The temperature at the 112th Regiment's encampment was plummeting. Every soldier felt frost forming on their exoskeleton armor, brittle shards of ice breaking with each movement. They recalled the psychic identification manual issued by the Cadia High Command before the war, which warned that a psychic presence could chill the air. The swiftness of the temperature drop signified a particularly potent psychic nearby.
But Eli was dead—transported by a drone. According to the Talon Allies Handbook from Cadia Command, anyone transported without a protective device would emerge as a soulless husk. Quite literally, a shell without a soul.
Despite the perplexing situation, the commanding officer drew on his experience, issuing the most prudent order he could: "Report the situation. Prepare for combat!" The entire 112th Regiment sprang into action. Communicators reported to higher command, armored vehicles roared to life, and infantry encircled Eli's corpse, weapons raised.
In the next instant, however, it wasn't Eli's body that changed, but rather the empty ground behind the soldiers. A slowly whirling blue vortex materialized there, catching the eye of a soldier who turned to stare into its depths.
Through the vortex lay a prison world, populated by shaven-headed prisoners who gazed back in startled confusion. "Cadia's forces!" they shouted, panic spreading among them. Two prisoners seized weapons from guards and opened fire at the Cadian soldiers, who responded instantly, twin-linked bolter fire reducing the attackers to fragments.
The prisoners within the vortex began to flee, outmatched by the Cadian assault forces. Their spirit and strength were like children's compared to these battle-hardened soldiers.
"What in the hell is this?" the officer muttered, gripping his laspistol as he approached the swirling gate. Summoning his courage, he took a step forward.
"Careful!" warned a nearby soldier. "Don't go in there!"
"Someone has to see what this is all about." The officer entered the vortex, scanning his surroundings. He found himself in a prison courtyard, an area for the inmates to exercise. Outside, a wasteland stretched into desolation, making escape unthinkable.
The prison was clearly under the inmates' control, a corpse of an armed Enforcer sprawled in the yard. The officer swallowed, crouching beside the body and quickly locating its ID.
"Lawn, employee of the Saint Jossman Judiciary." Reading aloud, he glanced back through the vortex. "This is the prison world of Saint Jossman. Relay this information to command immediately!"
The communications officer promptly transmitted the news, while the commander exited the vortex and began arranging a defensive perimeter.
* * *
"So…"
"A dead psychic opened a portal on our ground, leading to the prison world of Saint Jossman?"
In his office, Creed stared at Kehl in disbelief. Sergeant Kehl himself struggled to process the report from the 112th Regiment, finally displaying the footage captured by the officer. In the recording, Creed could clearly see the swirling vortex, and on its other side, a prison.
"It appears my drone arrived moments too late," Qin Mo added, less surprised by the development. Psychics were notoriously volatile and perilous. Each soul cast a shadow within the warp, but for psychics, that shadow was a beacon, revealing their location to all malign entities lurking within. This was why only trained psychics were permitted to live within the Empire of Mankind.
Qin Mo reasoned that Eli's soul, corrupted before its final shred tore apart in the warp, had unleashed the psychic energy that opened this rift. His drone's arrival, though delayed, had nonetheless prevented a worse catastrophe.
Had Eli survived a mere two seconds longer, warp-born horrors could have invaded through his body as a bridge.
"Saint Jossman Prison World," Creed murmured, pulling up a star chart and pointing to the ninth planet on the orbital line. "This is Saint Jossman, and the portal at the 112th leads directly there."
"Obviously, Saint Jossman has fallen," Qin Mo said. "But as long as there's no trouble on Cadia, that's all that matters."
Creed disagreed. To maintain control over the prison world, two regiments had previously been stationed there. The loss of communication signified their probable defeat. It was likely that psychics now rampaged through the prison, or something far worse had severed the communications array. Since the prison world fell, only thirty minutes had passed; the stationed forces had last reported that Saint Jossman was under control just half an hour earlier.
"Destroy it," Qin Mo suggested. Eli's death had left the warp keenly focused on a breach between Saint Jossman and Cadia, potentially to exploit the psychic energies of the prison.
"There's a Cyclone Torpedo on Cadia," Creed agreed. "With Talon's ships deploying the missile, it could devastate the entire prison world, purging all inmates."
"There's an easier way." Qin Mo commanded the stone-faced Titan on the stellar engine to destroy Saint Jossman. Then, he issued a second order, deploying Commander Yoon and Talon's 13th Regiment through the portal to the camp.
The 13th Regiment, newly assembled, took its number from the ill-fated 13th Company of planetary defense forces who had perished in the underhive. Numbering 101 soldiers, these were former outcasts traded to Talon from across Krain. For matters involving warp sorcery, the 13th Regiment's members, each a psychic null, were the Empire's ideal solution.