Chapter Seventy-Two: Anti-Psionics

The Warp, also known as the Empyrean or the Immaterial Universe, is a world composed purely of energy—a mirror to the material cosmos, where every aspect of reality finds its corresponding reflection. The Warp and the real universe exert mutual influence upon one another, most notably seen in the existence of psykers among sentient beings.

Psychic power, the most insidious force in the 40K universe, is a perilous and uncontrollable phenomenon. It is the wellspring of all mystical occurrences in this universe, and a principal cause of humanity's desperate state. Yet psychic power is also essential for humanity's voyages among the stars; without the Warp and its energies, rapid expansion across the galaxy would be impossible. Psykers are those rare individuals who, gifted with innate talent, draw upon the energies of the Warp to manifest extraordinary abilities in the material universe.

However, these psykers do not acquire such power without risk. All Warp-derived abilities are marked by an invisible price, one that psykers themselves cannot pay. Each use of Warp energy renders their soul a beacon in the darkness, attracting the denizens of the Warp, much like moths drawn to a flame. These entities are the daemons of the Warp, irresistibly lured by the soul-light of a psyker as they wield their powers.

Constantly, these creatures lurk in the turbulent tides of the Warp, ever searching for psykers whose resolve may falter. They await the opportunity to possess a mortal vessel, transforming that body into a gateway from the Empyrean into reality. Dangerous as psychic power and the Warp may be, humanity is compelled to harness them for survival and progress amid the endless stars.

Yet, among the traversers—those who cross worlds—no psyker has ever emerged. Even if some possess a Warp reflection, it is impossible for them to become psykers.

For reasons unknown, traversers do have reflections in the Warp, but unlike other humans, these projections are immune to the influence of the Warp. Their Warp reflections are like true shadows—present, but untouched by the energies of the Empyrean; likewise, they cannot affect the Warp. Now, for the first time, the army of traversers counts a psyker among their ranks, though he is not one of them.

Rosbane looked out over the battlefield at the advancing legions of Necrons. He raised his hands, fingers curling slowly in the air, and as his fists clenched, the metallic heads of several Necrons at the vanguard twisted and deformed under an invisible force. Instantly, the afflicted Necrons were recalled by repair protocols, teleported back to their tombs for restoration.

In theory, using psychic powers against Necrons is ineffective. Their anti-psyker technology blocks all phenomena related to the Warp—psyker powers cease to function, and the voices of Astropaths are silenced. After Rosbane used his abilities once, he found himself unable to summon psychic energy; something barred his connection to the Warp.

Moreover, all those fighting the Necrons—the traversers and their mortal auxiliaries—felt a strange sense of oppression, an uncomfortable weight as if their souls were being suppressed. Rosbane, as a psyker, felt this pressure most acutely.

Wang Ming, too, sensed the uncanny oppression, an almost familiar feeling reminiscent of the time upon Cadia, when the activation of the Blackstone obelisk created a similar sensation. Yet what he felt now was but a faint echo—far less suffocating than the overwhelming force unleashed on Cadia.

“Rosbane, they have responded to your abilities,” Wang Ming said, watching the pale-faced psyker.

“Yes, Primarch. I have never encountered such a phenomenon,” Rosbane replied, taking several deep breaths to steady himself. The activation of Necron anti-psyker technology left him uncomfortable, but he quickly regained composure. After all, he was an Astartes first, a psyker second.

The traversers had been battling the Necrons for more than a month, yet the enemy seemed inexhaustible, ceaselessly emerging from their tombs to assault the Imperial lines. To counter this relentless foe, Wang Ming had equipped his forces with new, more powerful weaponry, arming the mortal auxiliaries with heavy ordnance and expanding the artillery regiments.

The battlefield now thundered with explosions, as artillery fire rained ceaselessly upon the Necron advance, saturating the rocky wasteland. Under this unending barrage, the Imperials and Necrons reached a strange equilibrium—neither side could dislodge the other, as the Necrons could not clear the Imperial forces from the tomb's edge, and the Imperials could not stem the tide of endlessly resurrected Necrons.

After yet another month of conflict, Wang Ming and the traversers grew numb. Two months of war, and still the Necrons poured forth from their tombs—was there no end to their living metal?