This is a team of Soul Drinkers, moving slowly, taking their time, and carrying out a mission with a certain confidence.
The team was scattered throughout the cabin, overturning debris and examining the walls for marks, their internal voices ticking as they talked among themselves.
They even frequently communicate in sign language.
This piqued the interest of the Hunter observing them, as he was also adept at mastering the Astartes' fighting gestures.
He watched with curiosity how easily his enemy betrayed him.
The hunter watched silently as the shining spear of light cut away from this direction and that direction, revealing the wreckage deep in the ruins.
They are looking for something.
Obviously, the goal is consistent with myself.
They had doubts about the ship.
This is also very natural. Anyone would be suspicious of a hulk that suddenly appears, but this is not even a riddle to the hunter.
A trap deployed by a loser who wants to control his destiny.
Not worth mentioning.
Thinking of this, the hunter smiled and whispered something to the machine soul on the armor. This sentence informed the soul of the armor that the hunting was really about to begin.
"Preying Vision."
The next second, his field of vision was filled with a deep blue like the sea, rendered by the thermal light emitted by the moving life forms.
The hunter watched the team advance and divided into two teams, each with five people.
This is going to be interesting.
A low laugh came from under the bat-winged bone-faced helmet. He hadn't hunted like this for a long time.
perhaps--
Ten thousand years ago.
He chose to follow a group of men, following them through the corridors, knowing that the piercing roar of his power armor and the noise of its servo joints would not be heard by the dazed newbies.
Of course, the word "rookie" may be used incorrectly, as it lacks respect for the enemy.
After all, they are Astartes, and they are hunters - the weaker kind.
The former Night Lord's pale lips curved into another sly smile.
Oh, how unfortunate.
Savitar monitored the readings on his retinal monitor, resisting the urge to click on the runes to confirm that the hunt would be so easy that he wouldn't even need to use his psychic gifts.
After all, purity consists in refraining from certain things until they become necessary.
His visor flashed with the location runes of Thor and Soshyan, and the Hunter sprang into action after noting their positions on the ship. It had been a long time since he had spilled the blood of an Astartes in the dark.
Maybe he is a powerful warrior, but he is even more of a terrifying killer.
Sevatar prefers to hunt in the dark.
A true hunter does not avoid being seen by his prey, and only revealing his stalking when the prey is killed is the act of a coward and a ghoul.
Where is the excitement in this?
A Night Lord is raised by other, truer laws.
Sevatar walked through the shadows like a ghost, judging the strength of the opponent's auditory receptors.
What on earth could they hear...
He followed them down a corridor, then lightly rubbed his gauntleted knuckles against the metal wall.
The Soul Drinkers immediately turned around and shined the beams on their helmets into his face.
This seemed to work, and the hunters had to admire them.
With half a heartbeat in the world, light would illuminate his vision and blind him.
Sevatar completely ignored the beam, disappearing into the shadows of a side corridor as they opened fire.
Five minutes later he came to the door again.
This time he set a gorgeous trap and waited for the opportunity to move.
He stuck his halberd in their path.
It was like an invitation to go straight into the cabin to get it. It was obviously a trap.
But how can they resist?
The Soul Drinkers were all alert. They raised their bolters and scanned around, mentally alert.
They recognized the halberd, the weapon that had killed many of their brothers before. Although they did not understand why this thing appeared here, they couldn't help but go forward to check it.
Then, Sevatar left the ceiling.
He landed with a thud on the deck behind the Soul Drinker, his armor swooping forward to grab the last member of the team.
The other instinctively turned and fired.
"Don't--"
After firing three blasters into his brother's body, Sevatar couldn't help but laugh at the guy's stupidity.
The Night Lord clutched the quivering human shield that fought against him, watching the thermometer on his retinas flicker as the blood of the dying man splattered his armor.
The trembling Soul Drinker was nothing more than a bag of frozen flesh in his hands. The bolt detonated, nearly killing the man, and the power armor was ripped apart.
"Well played."
Sevatar spoke into the crackling audio in his helmet, throwing the bleeding human shield aside and leaping to the other, fingers spread like giant claws.
The battle was brutal and short.
The Night Lord was as fast as a gust of wind. He grabbed the bolter directly from the opponent's hand, smashed the muzzle of the gun directly into the man's eyepiece, and then pulled the trigger.
The helmet was smashed to pieces after the gunshot, and Savita let go of his hand and let the man fall.
There were two gunshots, and the bullets streaked through his cloak, leaving two big holes.
Then he turned around and pulled out his halberd, waving his arms amidst the roar and cutting off the two soul drinkers.
Blood rolled out.
The fifth man tried to slash with his sword, but Sevatar struck the man in the chest with the end of his halberd, knocking the man to the ground. Then he stepped up and broke the man's arm with a kick.
"This looks so brittle."
Sevatar bent down and saw the eyepiece, hatred burning in the soldier's eyes.
The man was yelling something, probably scolding him.
Sevatar wasted a few seconds just to appreciate these words, this feeling of despair, and the joy of the prey's struggle.
Then he smashed the mask with his fist and cracked the helmet with one blow.
One punch, two punches, three punches——
Until the opponent stops moving.
"Sevita."
At this time, the voice channel hissed.
"Say it, Thor."
"We encountered the Horror."
"It's not a surprise, it's not like you couldn't guess it."
"Are you done over there?"
"Brother, look at this hulk. It's as empty as Soshyan's head. It doesn't have anything of value. I didn't even see a servitor. How can I find that thing? The devil knows that subspace hides it.
Where is it?"
Savita cut off the voice server as he walked through the black corridor. He could no longer stand Thor's chatter.
Now he must be alone and finish the work seriously.
This was not done voluntarily, and everything he had done so far was not done voluntarily, but there was no way, after all, the root of all this was——