His squad once responded to a distress call from a hive city. Together with a platoon of Astra Militarum soldiers, he purged the heretics infesting its depths.
In the twisted, looping metallic belly of the underhive, he witnessed the grotesque artwork of the devotees of the Prince of Pleasure.
Sculptures made of human skin and bone—victims' heads still alive, still screaming.
Liquor brewed with human blood and souls—those cultists drank before charging at him with maddened zeal.
They painted on tanned human hides using pulped flesh, sketching out the blasphemous sigils of the Dark Prince.
The heretics wore robes sewn from the skin of innocents, their autoguns and blades adorned with the bones of their victims. Their eyes, stripped of eyelids, stared unblinking at Ignis, and from their mouths protruded warped, elongated tongues.
The nightmarish sight filled him with terror. For an ordinary Space Marine, his enhanced mind and spirit would have been strong enough to disregard such madness and keep fighting.
But Ignis—his soul came from a peaceful world. Even after several battles, he still could not adapt to such insanity.
The Great Devourer was terrifying, yes, but its purpose was to harvest biomass. It did not create art like this.
The Lord of Decay and his wicked spawn spread plagues, infecting entire worlds—but those horrors at least looked like the monsters in a zombie movie.
Even the living machines of the Necrons—Ignis could treat them as mere T-800s, things to be destroyed by physical means.
But this time, his will faltered for the first time. The vile creations of Slaanesh's followers made his very soul tremble.
At the start of the cleansing operation, Ignis could still rely on his discipline to ignore the obscene displays.
But as they pushed deeper toward the enemy's core, those increasingly deranged "artworks" nearly broke his will.
If not for the neural conditioning that allowed a Space Marine to forcibly maintain calm, he would have been corrupted—just like the mortal soldiers who had come with him.
Yes—he had to purify them himself. They could not resist the Prince of Pleasure's invitation.
That act filled him with even greater dread, as though that dark presence from the Warp were watching him… following him.
By accident, he stumbled into the heretic leader's chamber. One strike from his power fist reduced the man to pulp.
But the creature was no longer human. The mass of flesh quivered, and multiple tentacles burst out, wrapping around the nearby grotesque "art installations."
A flash of violet-red light erupted—and when it faded, standing before the Salamander was a being nearly as tall as him, its body writhing with tentacles and gnashing maws. A Chaos Spawn.
Ignis fought it almost mechanically. Through sheer strength and the decomposition field of his power fist, he finally slew the creature.
As he burned the Chaos spawn's remains with flame, he felt it—the gaze of the Dark Prince of the Warp falling upon him.
His soul plunged into an icy abyss; his breath stopped. When Sergeant Volkanic found him standing there, trembling, Ignis seemed almost frozen.
Later, the Apothecary sedated him, and aboard the Battle Barge, the Chapter Chaplain performed an exorcism ritual.
Even so, it took thirteen Terran hours before his condition stabilized.
Because of this incident, he was not reassigned to a battle company, remaining in the 6th Company for further training.
Now, the man before him—being devoured by ether crystals—rekindled that same ancient fear.
Ignis's three lungs heaved rapidly, like a fish gasping out of water. Both hearts pounded violently in his chest.
The audio amplifiers of his power armor magnified the sound of his ragged breathing. For the first time, Anby and Billy realized this giant could feel fear.
When the explosion's shockwave faded, a tall, slender humanoid emerged before them.
It stood over two meters tall, its entire body black with thin streaks of glowing green running along its form, as if carved into it.
Its left hand was a massive fan-shaped shield of black crystal, as tall as Billy himself.
Its right arm, from the elbow down, was a single long blade—unlike the crude, jagged design of the Tyrfing.
The forearm was slender and elegant, the black crystal forming a solid spine while the green portions gleamed with sharp grace.
"Big guy! Snap out of it!" Billy rapped on Ignis's backplate. "This thing's not gonna be easy!"
"Anby!" He turned to his teammate. "Watch that Dullahan! The big guy's spacing out!"
Anby nodded, readying her blade—but Ignis had already regained his focus.
The thing before him resembled an Aeldari—tall and graceful. But Aeldari didn't have black holes where their heads should be. They had elongated helms and flamboyant crests.
"It's fine. I'll handle it. You two—deal with the other Ethereals."
Without hesitation, Ignis charged.
He had barely shaken off those terrible memories—he even forgot to power his gauntlet—but even so, the strike from an Aggressor's fist sent the alien staggering backward.
Its shield was sturdy; without the decomposition field, the blow didn't break through. The creature immediately countered—its razor arm darting forward as it steadied itself.
Though the Salamanders were known for being less reflexive than other Chapters, compared to ordinary beings, they were still lightning fast.
Ignis stepped forward with his right leg, slamming his right elbow against the Dullahan's shield, forcing it to twist aside. His left hand shot out, seizing the creature's right arm at the exposed bicep, then lifted upward sharply.
In an instant, the attack was neutralized—but Ignis wasn't done.
With a twist of his arm, a snap rang out alongside the Ethereal's howl of pain—its right arm torn apart.
Ignis spun the alien's blade in his grip, then drove it downward, pinning the Dullahan to the ground through its chest, just as Miguel Silver had done to another Ethereal before.
"You're kidding me," Billy muttered, blasting another Ethereal apart. "He took down a high-tier Dullahan with one strike?"
"Don't just stand there!" Anby shouted, catching a Tyrfing's blow on her blade, then kicking it away.
Pinned to the ground, the Dullahan writhed, trying to rise—but Ignis gave it no chance. He powered up his gauntlet, the decomposition field flaring to life.
One punch. Two punches. Three.
The creature's resilience was extraordinary, and something seemed to be blocking the field's disintegration effect—but the raw force still shattered its body. The crystal at its chest cracked; the black hole where its head should be flickered wildly.
Blow after blow, spasm after spasm—the massive warrior pressed down, the Son of Vulkan's fury hammering the Ethereal into submission.
At last, the black hole on its head vanished. The green glow along its body dimmed to nothing.
Ignis rose, glancing over just in time to see Billy striking a pose atop the last defeated Tyrfing.
"I checked my ammo this time," Billy declared, pulling the trigger. "This is justice!"
The Salamander looked at the ridiculous robot and couldn't help but give him a thumbs-up.
"You doing better now?" Billy asked while reloading. "Thought you were gonna lose it back there."
"I thought you were drowning in your armor," Anby quipped, sheathing her blade. "Saw a movie like that once."
"That's movie nonsense," Billy shot back. "Who could drown inside their own armor?"
In truth, even if one could, a Space Marine would survive—it wasn't like they'd ever run out of air, not with a third lung capable of filtering toxins.
"It's nothing," Ignis said, waving them off. "Just… some memories resurfaced."
"You've seen one of these things before?" Billy asked, curious.
"The first of its kind I've encountered," Ignis replied after a short pause. "But something about it… reminded me of the past."
"Doesn't sound like a good memory," Anby said, looking up at him.
"No. It wasn't." Ignis turned away slightly, his tone dropping. He didn't want to continue.
He feared that even thinking the name of that dreadful being might draw its gaze once more.
As the three talked, the Dullahan on the ground stirred again.
The black hole at its neck reignited, strange motes of light swirling within.
The Ethereal let out a roar, dissolving its pinned limbs into its body, then regenerating them anew.
"This thing can revive?!" Billy shouted, stunned.
"No idea…" Anby sighed, drawing her blade once more.
The Dullahan rose again, the black hole on its neck glowing with prismatic light—truly a "multicolored black."
The green lines on its body shimmered, then shifted into a purplish hue.
That color made Ignis's breath catch.
"Damn it, it's reactivating!" Billy's sensors scanned frantically for anything useful.
Ignis didn't hesitate. His body moved before his mind. He charged. This time, the foe's strength matched his own—his straight punch slammed against the shield and failed to break through.
The Dullahan's right arm flared, colors blazing as it charged a deadly strike.
Billy spotted several dry-chemical fire extinguishers along the platform. His sensors confirmed the pressure inside was intact.
He fired several rounds, rupturing the tanks. Compressed gas and powder blasted out, engulfing the platform in a choking haze.
"Anby! Big guy! Time to move!"
Ignis slammed another punch into the shield, forcing the Dullahan back, then turned and plunged into the smoke.
The three disappeared into the blinding fog—unaware that the Dullahan did not pursue. It merely turned its gaze toward the safe on the ground… and stood still once more.