Dorn's pupils abruptly contracted. A chill ran up his spine and down the back of his neck.
Some nearly instinctive intuition told him that the governor's body was still alive, but his soul was long dead!
The moment he leaned down to examine him, Sapphire's peripheral vision caught a sinister silhouette in the shadows of the palace.
The blurred shadow seemed to writhe like a living thing, yet vanished in the blink of an eye.
"An assassin, look out!" Sapphire's warning had barely left her lips when a wisp of eerie, aberrant light suddenly shot from the governor's eye socket, striking directly at Dorn's forehead like a viper.
That light seemed to contain some kind of terrible will, forcibly invading his mind!
"Kill them! Trade his life for the governor's!"
With a sharp cry, dozens of assassins swarmed from hidden chambers, instantly surrounding the soldiers who had stormed the palace.
These assassins were variously equipped. Some held intricate firearms, while others were unarmed, yet their hands emanated a strange glow.
One of them casually waved a hand. Before two fully armed power-armored soldiers could even pull their triggers, they crumbled like grains of sand. Their sturdy armor remained intact, yet their flesh dissolved into a heap of mud on the floor.
Sapphire's pupils contracted. She hadn't seen that wisp of light invading Dorn's mind, but one by one, the soldiers were being slaughtered by the assassins' psychic powers.
If the situation worsened, she and Dorn would be left isolated and helpless!
"Hang on!"
Gritting her teeth, Sapphire unleashed her own psychic power, forming invisible shields that enveloped the soldiers suffering under the psychic assault, protecting them from the erosion.
"Die, dogs of Inwit!"
The other psykers immediately noticed this anomaly and turned their full wrath upon her, abandoning the slaughter of the other soldiers.
"Ugh!"
Dorn felt a stabbing pain inside his skull, but it was exceptionally brief.
Because immediately afterward, a piercing scream echoed within his mind. Something had touched his soul, only to be utterly annihilated in an instant.
The aggressive intruder was now completely obliterated, leaving not a trace behind.
Dorn shook his head. Time seemed to nearly stand still in this moment.
He could clearly see the lingering mist of blood in the air and hear his own heart hammering in his chest.
Within a nanosecond, the Primarch had fully grasped the battlefield situation.
Dorn's thoughts raced like lightning. His body reacted before his mind, lunging for the assassin who had just physically dismembered the two power-armored soldiers.
A flicker of surprise crossed the assassin's face, clearly not expecting Dorn to break free from his restraint.
"Then you cannot be allowed to live!" A fierce glint flashed in the assassin's eyes. He hastily raised his hand, and invisible power surged wildly towards the Primarch.
His ability could decompose anyone like grains of sand. Relying on this technique, he had almost never known defeat!
However, he was facing a genePrimarch.
Bang!
Dorn's body paused for half a second but did not disintegrate under the psychic influence.
His fist broke through the energy field's restraint in an instant and further shattered the assassin's psychic barrier.
In the assassin's terrified gaze, his head exploded under the heavy blow like an overripe watermelon.
Smack!
Red and white matter splattered everywhere, but Dorn did not pause for a moment. His combat instincts had already locked onto the next target.
"Seven more!"
Within a nanosecond, the Primarch calculated the optimal path. His towering frame displayed ghostly, chilling agility, weaving through the hailstorm of bullets as he pounced on the second assassin!
There were many assassins, but only seven bore the telltale glow of psykers on their hands.
"Don't hold back! Kill him, or we all die!"
Chosen by the Primarch, the assassin screamed and fled in panic towards the others, trying to regroup.
To maximize casualties and avoid being wiped out in one fell swoop, they had scattered across the hall. Teaming up was wise, but unfortunately, it was too late.
Dorn's every strike hit a vital point. Psychic power couldn't stop him. The crack of snapping bones rang out one after another, accompanied by short, sharp screams.
These psykers were indeed powerful, but they unfortunately encountered a Primarch.
Crushing the last psyker's neck, Dorn's chest finally began to rise and fall slightly as he breathed.
Crossing the pool of blood with an unpleasant sticky sound, as he looked around, the gun-wielding assassins had long since been terrified out of their wits, frantically discarding their weapons and begging for mercy.
But the Inwitn soldiers' eyes were already bloodshot. They had witnessed their comrades torn to shreds by these assassins' psychic powers.
With the fire of vengeance burning in their hearts, they could not accept this belated surrender.
The lasguns' searing beams pierced the assassins' heads like swords. The intense heat instantly vaporized their brains, carbonizing their flesh, leaving only wisps of smoke curling from the blackened, red-edged holes in their skulls.
Dorn did not stop the execution of the captives. You cannot surrender only when you are losing.
His soldiers had not massacred civilians without cause; these assassins were enemies.
Dorn believed that even his kindest brother would show no mercy to assassins.
Dorn turned to look at his pale-faced sister-by-adoption, a flicker of concern in his eyes, "Sister, are you alright?"
Sapphire gripped the cold armrest of the throne; strands of hair plastered to her forehead were wet with cold sweat. "I'm fine. Just exhausted. Let me rest a moment."
...
"Dorn!"
Perturabo's voice came from afar, his urgent footsteps echoing in the hall.
His tall figure pushed through the wall of guards, taking the stairs two at a time as he rushed to Dorn.
His usually calm, sharp ice-blue eyes held a rare hint of panic. He stared intently at Dorn, as if trying to ensure every inch of his skin was intact.
Caelan followed close behind. His usually composed eyes were now also full of worry. "Are you hurt?"
The concerned gazes of his father and brother warmed Dorn's heart. He slowly shook his head. "Don't worry. I'm fine."
Caelan asked, "What exactly happened?"
Dorn explained gravely, "They were a group of psykers. They used some method to control the governor's body, perhaps 'possession' is a more precise term."
"They possessed the governor, orchestrated this rebellion, and then tried to possess me."
"Unfortunately, they chose the wrong target. The psyker who tried to invade me was utterly annihilated. I killed the rest of his accomplices."
Perturabo looked at his father, the most knowledgeable among them about psykers.
Caelan explained, "The five fundamental disciplines of psychic powers, Biomancy, Divination, Pyromonacy, Telekinesis, and Telepathy. Manipulating others is a characteristic of Telepathy. Dissolving bodies likely indicates a Biomancer."
"The Imperium classifies psyker power on a scale of twenty-four, from 0 to 23 and above."
"Rho/Pi level are mortals with no psychic talent."
"Omicron/Xi/Nu/Mu/Lambda levels only show psychic talent under high-pressure situations."
"Iota/Theta/Eta levels are mid-level psykers, considered true psykers in the conventional sense."
"Zeta/Epsilon levels are powerful psykers who can use their abilities effortlessly."
"Above that, at level 13, Delta-level psykers appear once per billion people. Gamma/Beta/Alpha levels are even rarer, but represent the highest level generally controllable by humanity."
"At level 17, Alpha-plus, and level 18, Beta-plus, are the strongest psykers that can be born from humanity. However, such psykers are so deeply connected to the Warp that they struggle to maintain sanity."
Perturabo asked, "That's only up to level 18. What about higher?"
"Above that exists only in theory. Even if such beings exist, they certainly aren't human."
"Gamma-plus is the highest level of psychic power achievable by a biological entity. Delta-plus and Epsilon-plus exist only in theory."
"Zeta-plus is another purely theoretical grade, assumed to be the highest level of power living tissue can sustain."
"Beyond that, Eta-plus (23) to Omega-plus (40), are beyond the scope of beings from the material universe. Such psykers could rewrite reality on a galactic scale."
Perturabo turned to Caelan, a thoughtful tone in his voice, "Father, are those so-called 'gods' essentially just immensely powerful psykers above level 23?"
"In terms of energy level, yes. But conceptually, they are fundamentally different from 'psykers'."
"When power reaches a certain critical point, quantitative change leads to qualitative change."
"Not only are their power levels far beyond human comprehension, but their very form of existence and conceptual essence differ fundamentally from psykers."
Dorn analyzed calmly, "Judging by the power level shown by the psykers who attacked me, they managed to suppress Sister Sapphire's psychic abilities. They had at least one Delta-level psyker."
"But if they were already that powerful, why did they have no effect on me?"
"Warp culture is vast and profound. Humanity knows very little about psychic powers."
"The twenty-four-point scale and the psychic disciplines can only explain humanity's understanding of psykers; they do not fully explain psychic power itself."
"From my understanding, since there are positive and negative psychic grades, psychic resistance can also be considered a form of psychic power."
"Individuals with psychic resistance can withstand high levels of psychic damage, but this is fundamentally different from Blanks."
"Blanks possess a psychic-proof field; that's 'warp nullification'."
"Psychic resistance merely increases tolerance to psychic energy, making it harder to be harmed by it. It's more like magic defense."
"Primarchs possess innate, powerful psychic resistance. Unless facing a psyker above Alpha-level, it's very difficult to harm you directly with psychic powers."
As the Primarchs' descendants, Astartes also have innate psychic resistance.
However, this resistance varies significantly between individuals. An Astartes with low resistance could be crushed by a Zeta-level psyker. Meanwhile, an Astartes with high resistance could withstand a Warp energy surge that would easily kill tens of thousands of other Astartes, feeling it as comfortable as taking a bath.
But even these exceptional Astartes cannot compare to a Blank's null-field.
The principles are completely different.
In terms of pure psychic resistance, barring a few exceptions, the order is generally Primarchs > Custodes > Thunder Warriors > Astartes.
Though Guilliman is often mocked for his low psychic resistance, his opponents are all monsters. Ka'Bandha is one of the most powerful Greater Daemons, and Magnus is a top-tier Daemon Prince. Even hampered by the laws of reality, they are at least Alpha-plus level minimum. Facing that level of 'psyker,' any other Primarch would likely go down just as easily.
Dorn asked, "Father, what is your level?"
Caelan assumed, "Probably above Alpha-level. It was a gift from Neoth, so it wouldn't be too low."
Caelan had never truly revealed his psychic power because reality had never given him a chance to do so. Even if he possessed power that could change the course of battle, he only used it cautiously when necessary, never venting emotions through it. The more emotional a psyker, the more prone to losing control.
Perturabo asked, "Father, what is the level of our biological father?"
Caelan paused before answering, "At least Gamma-plus."
The standard for Alpha-plus is the ability to destroy an entire world single-handedly.
Magnus is Alpha-plus. The smaller one is stronger than Magnus, perhaps Beta-plus.
The Emperor can remotely power the Astronomican on a galactic scale, its light illuminating the entire galaxy. Simultaneously, He has the spare capacity to display psychic power exceeding the smaller one's, using His power to compress a star into a gift for His sons. Calling Him Gamma-plus is an understatement.
This is beyond Caelan's comprehension. Humanity has no way to measure such psychic levels. Anything above exists only in theory. As for the Emperor's exact level, perhaps even He himself isn't fully aware.
His power is in a league of its own in the material universe; calling Him a living, breathing minor god is not an exaggeration. The Emperor's death would only be the casting off of His mortal shell, directly transforming Him into the unique Dark God of the Warp.
Perturabo said, "Father, please give Dorn a thorough examination."
His voice was low, his eyes urgent. "Psykers' methods are insidious and unpredictable. It's hard to be sure there aren't any hidden problems."
He spoke of psykers, but both Caelan and Dorn understood who he really meant.
"Relax." Caelan's hand glowed with a soft blue light. Dorn calmly knelt on one knee, allowing his father to touch his hair.
A child kneeling to his father is only natural. No Primarch would be ashamed of it, nor would they guard against him.
Psychic energy seeped into Dorn's consciousness like a gentle stream. Dorn felt the nerve fibers tensed by the battle being gently soothed.
He could even sense a unique...scent within his father's psychic power, difficult to describe in words.
Possessing a Primarch is nearly impossible, even for a Greater Daemon. The only successful case of a Greater Daemon possessing a Primarch is Fulgrim, and that was when his mind was weakened. In that instance, Fulgrim, wracked with guilt over Ferrus's death, had ceded control to a daemon. Yet, when he resolved to resist, he reclaimed his body with ease.
However, if one of the four Chaos Gods personally intervened, they could still plant seeds of corruption on a Primarch's soul.
"No anomalies detected. Dorn's soul is as pure as freshly fallen snow."
The glow in Caelan's hand faded. He lowered his hand slowly, a trace of weariness appearing between his brows. "But maybe the corruption is hidden too deep, beyond my ability. When Neoth descends, have him give Dorn a full examination. In the material universe, no one is more skilled at this than him."
"Thank you, Father." Dorn and Perturabo simultaneously moved to support Caelan.
"My Lord!" Rahn walked quickly towards the Primarch and knelt on one knee.
Dorn rose slowly, "Have their identities been determined?"
Rahn bowed his head, "Confirmed. They are the psykers who were supposed to be handed over a year ago."
Dorn's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. "Take me to their prison cells."
The Imperium is built upon psykers.
The Imperium of Man is so, and the Inwit Empire is no exception.
The Emperor is the sole cornerstone of the Imperium; Primarchs and sacrifices take a back seat.
Navigators are special psykers, treated with favor throughout the Imperium.
Ordinary Imperium psykers typically have only three choices, become Astropaths, become sanctioned psykers or Librarians, or become fuel.
Gellar fields must be active during Warp travel, and maintaining them consumes psykers. Besides those who die during the Astropath trials, Gellar fields are one of the primary ways psykers are 'consumed.'
The Inwit Empire also relies on short-range Warp travel to maintain its territory and has a significant demand for psykers. One of Corobus's duties was to provide a steady stream of expendable psykers for the Empire.
Corobus has a population of one hundred billion. Theoretically, it would have about one hundred powerful psykers of Delta-level and above. Lower-level psykers are even more numerous, enough for the daily consumption of a small empire.
The Corobus government would normally hunt psykers in the hives, restrain their powers with phase-iron, and hand them over when Inwitn ships came to collect taxes.
But a year ago, Corobus rebelled. These psykers didn't become expendable fuel; they became masters of Corobus.
Dorn stared at the empty cells. Caelan spoke slowly, "Same as in the hall. Residual psychic reaction, but no Warp energy, no marks of blasphemy."
Psychic power and Warp energy share the same source, but their feel is different. Psychic power merely feels cold. Warp energy carries a stark, malevolent chill, easily distinguishable.
The probability of Warp incursion on Corobus is very small. Otherwise, they should have seen surreal, hellish scenes, not normal hives.
Dorn murmured, "So, those psykers weren't corrupted by the Warp. They just revolted."
Perturabo called softly, "Dorn."
"Don't worry, brother. I'm not that sentimental."
Rebellion is rebellion. Regardless of the motive, the nature of suppression does not change.
Dorn ordered, "Rahn, investigate all involved personnel, the guards, transport crews, auditors, enforcers, and those close to the governor. I want to know how these psykers broke free of the phase-iron and how they managed to possess the governor under layers of supervision."
"As you command, my Lord."