Fiery Heatless Bolts

There was a sound like bolter fire. Concentrated, heavy. But the shells that streamed from multiple weapons seemed to be born of the fog itself. They came in streaks of flame that killed without burning, and that lingered in the air like a ghost’s wound. They pounded into Plionos and Krakos, shattering pauldron and helmet, engulfing them in heatless, corrosive fire. The two had no chance to react. Their blood and bone erupted before them. They fell, and their annihilation was totalled. There would be nothing to salvage. They were gone as if they had never existed, their legacies reduced to the memories of their brothers.



The Dark Hollows of Memory