Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 371 Dimensional Annihilation (Fourth update, requesting monthly votes)
"Hold on!" Ahriman's roar rang out in the communication, his voice carrying an undeniable authority.

The eyes of this powerful Thousand Sons Supreme Wizard blazed with a blinding silver light, and flames of psychic energy danced within his pupils.

The psionic scepter in his hand trembled violently, and the crystal ball at its tip surged with violent warp energy, its surface covered with tiny arcs of electricity.

As an ancient incantation was uttered from his mouth, the runes on the scepter lit up one after another, and the forbidden dimensional annihilation spell was finally completed.

The air was filled with the smell of ionized ozone, and the psionic fluctuations made the hairs on everyone's heads stand on end.

In an instant, the top of the scepter burst forth with an azure light that was too dazzling to look at directly.

The light was as dazzling as a supernova explosion, yet it carried an unnatural, icy quality, like a judgmental light from the deepest part of the universe.

Anyone who looked directly at the light had a burning afterimage left on their retinas, causing them to instinctively cover their eyes and shed painful tears.

Wherever this light touched, the structure of reality crumbled like fragile glass.

Space began to take on unnatural geometric forms, with straight lines twisted into impossible angles and planes folded into bizarre curved surfaces.

Countless spiderweb-like cracks appeared in the air, and behind each crack, a strange purple void flickered, in which countless twisted subspace creatures could be vaguely seen swimming.

Those creatures had forms that defied common sense—multi-segmented, amorphous, geometric—all greedily peering into the real world.

But then, even the purple void shattered, and the twisted warp creatures screamed and fled, their contorted limbs stretched and torn apart in the dimensional collapse.

Some tried to grasp the edge of the crack with their tentacles, but watched helplessly as their bodies were crushed and annihilated by an invisible force, turning into nothingness.

Their shrieks echoed in the gap between reality and illusion, creating a chilling chord.

Space fragments spun and danced like sharp mirrors, refracting countless distorted images of Zanazt.

These mirror images are like shattered kaleidoscopes, each displaying a different terrifying form of the demon prince—some with extra horns, some covered in eyes, and some completely devoid of human form.

Where the mirror shards passed, even the light was cut into fragments, forming rainbow-colored bands of light, only to be swallowed by darkness in an instant.

The demon prince roared in anger, his triple voice echoing in the distorted space, but it could not stop the shattering of space and dimensions.

The tattered membrane wings behind it flapped rapidly, stirring up a foul-smelling hurricane, but this force seemed so powerless in the shattered space.

He tried to escape this broken space, but every step felt like struggling in sticky asphalt.

Those spatial rifts chased after him like hungry beasts, making a sound like glass shattering inch by inch.

It wasn't the glass that shattered, but space and dimensions themselves; each "crack" represented yet another collapse of the laws of reality.

Finally, a massive spatial rift, like a blade of judgment, slashed across his left side.

The rift is a perfectly straight geometric line, its edges shimmering with an unnatural blue light, as if the universe itself had been precisely cut apart by some supreme will at this moment.

In that instant, time seemed to stand still.

All the clamor on the battlefield fell into an eerie silence, even the roar of the slingshots seemed to freeze in the air.

Everyone held their breath, witnessing this supernatural scene.

The battle nuns' weapons, raised high, froze in mid-air; their chants caught in their throats; even the still-burning flames ceased to flicker.

Even the dust floating in the air seemed to freeze in place, forming a hazy halo.

Only the spatial rift continued to extend slowly, like a greedy venomous snake, gracefully and deadly devouring the demon prince's body.

Where the rift passed, the structure of reality was completely rewritten. The left arm, left wing, and part of the torso vanished into nothingness in an instant, like a pencil drawing erased by an eraser.

The disappearance was silent and without any light or shadow effects, as if someone had suddenly turned off the switch that part of it existed.

The flesh, bones, and scales that once belonged to the demon prince vanished silently from reality.

There was no explosion, no flash, only a suffocating sense of non-existence.

There was no blood, no pieces of flesh; it was as if it had never existed.

The cut surface of the wound was perfectly flat, so smooth that it reflected the horrified faces of those around it.

This eerie "erasure" is more chilling than any bloody scene.

It defied all the laws of nature and challenged the most basic understanding of every witness—as if the creator of the universe himself had taken up the brush and completely erased some erroneous existence from the canvas.

Zanazt's mutilated body stood frozen in place, an expression of disbelief on his狰狞 (zhengning - ferocious/hideous) face.

For the first time, his distorted face revealed genuine fear, his eyes widening as he stared intently at the disappearing left half of his body.

No blood flowed from the cut surface of the wound; instead, there was writhing chaotic energy.

These dark purple energies writhed and twisted like living things, forming a translucent film at the edge of the wound.

Countless tiny granulation tissues, like maggots, writhe wildly at the wound, attempting to rebuild the lost body.

Each movement of these granulation tissues produced an unsettling "gurgling" sound, like some kind of viscous liquid being stirred.

But whenever a new organization is about to take shape, the residual spatial annihilation energy will shatter it once again.

The granulation tissue would suddenly burst open when it touched the edge of the wound, turning into clumps of foul-smelling black mist.

This process repeated itself endlessly, causing the demon prince to let out painful roars.

His voice no longer held its former authority, only pure pain and anger, like a wild beast trapped in a snare.

"You will all die!" The severely wounded Zanazt roared in fury, his three voices echoing through the cavern, each syllable carrying chaotic energy from the warp.

His tattered demonic body trembled violently, his dark red scales vibrating at a high frequency, emitting a piercing metallic scraping sound.

Black blood seeped from the gaps in the scales, writhing like a living thing as it dripped onto the ground.

The smell of sulfur grew stronger, and the remaining right claw suddenly pierced the ground, the bone claw sinking deep into the rock, bursting out scarlet sparks.

The ground cracked with spiderweb-like patterns centered on the claw tip, and dark red energy swam through the cracks like a hungry venomous snake.

The mutants and gang members hit by the energy convulsed collectively, their eyes rolled back, and choking gurgling sounds escaped their throats.

Their bodies swelled and twisted, their joints broke, and their skin was stretched until it became transparent. Then—

A series of explosions rang out, and dozens of bodies exploded into a bloody mist at the same time, with broken bones and internal organs pouring out like a torrential rain.

The severed limb continued to twitch after hitting the ground, and blood pooled into vortexes, forming dozens of scarlet portals.

More vampires and fleshhounds poured out, pouncing on the living creatures before their forms had stabilized.

A brass greatsword was brandished, its fangs dripping corrosive saliva, and a bloodthirsty battle cry echoed throughout the cavern.

(End of this chapter)