Normally when Siobhan was flying, using her mastery of telekinesis to propel herself to great heights high up into the air, so that beneath her all beings still on the ground looked small, she felt glorious, powerful, freed from all constraints. Now that was obviously fantasy, but it was the sensation she normally experienced. Up there in the air she was in control, to her it seemed like nothing could touch her.
Today...things were different. Up there looking down upon the jagged, rumbled battlefield, in the face of the eldritch abominations that seemed to have arisen from the depths of the abyss itself, malicious beings so twisted a human mind could not hope to comprehend them ever, she could not help feeling small.
It was not the first time she had faced a giant monstrosity, an eldritch horror whose mere presence shook the earth and sparked insanity in the minds of mortals. Many years ago, a decade now, she and Adril had faced one. The tentacled monstrosity had arisen from the deep, laying waste to everything in its path.
Adril had stayed behind to face it...the titanic struggle had ended up claiming her life as she was incinerated by a firestorm of her own creation, taking the beast with her as both were sunk. Siobhan had...run away, as Adril had ordered her to do. Running was all she had been good at being. In a way part of her had died back then, as annoyingly melodramatic as that line sounds even to this writer, a different Siobhan had arisen. Harder perhaps, even more fuelled by a strong sense of self-loathing, with the ruthlessnes needed to become the woman she was now. Still...it had taken her right up to almost dying in her duel with Abaddon, Prophet of the Bando Gora, then crushing him to let go of her survivor's guilt.
Now she was no longer afraid. Or perhaps she had acquired a level of overconfidence that bored on criminal insanity and figured she could not die. Either way it did not really matter, for she was in the air, overlooking the great machines, the mystical preparations performed by Rave. She saw as Fabula, true to form, leapt into the fray and punch a cosmic horror. Despite the situation she could not help but smile at that.
The monstrosities advanced, so very fast despite their size and she shot upward into the sky as tentacles seemed to be coming for her, the ground being shaken by powerful, deafening tremors with every step the beasts took. She had her bolters, but these deadly death dealers seemed so ridiculously puny now, like little toy guns. Hell, the same would apply to a missile launcher...she would not mind a couple assault walkers. But she had something else, the Force, and a severe lack of sanity. Someone sane would not be flying up towards eldritch abominations, but then a sane person would not have been declared a Chaos Goddess by the Bando Gora.
The Force flowed through her, amplifying and invigorating her. The memory of that dreadful day that had been Adril's last, the pain she had felt then, suddenly so raw again, fuelled her. Anger and rage might not be the Jedi way, but then she had long discarded their Code a decade ago, never really believed in it in the first place, and never looked back once. So she felt it beckon to her and answered its siren call, welcoming it like an old friend.
The massive mouth of one of the horrors opened and it let out a roar that was such that the ground so far beneath her shook, that it felt like her ears were going to be blown apart, blood dripping out of them. The air was twisted in strange shapes as the shockwave was released and she was caught in it, being thrust through the air with great speed as she surged straight towards the wall before managing to catch herself, panting. Her mind struggled against the all-embracing mental onslaught, images of madness filling her, agonising pain striking at her, her sanity slipping. Siobhan had never been good against mentalism, and in any case this was an elder horror, a being that had crushed the sanity of mortals for aeons so that it probably did not even have to exert a conscious effort on its part. It probably no longer even notice their existence anymore. She felt something break as she was thrown, probably more than one, but then she reckoned if she got out of this with only one maiming she would be lucky.
Fear gets you killed anger keeps you alive, Siobhan's response was unrefined, predictable, brutal. Lashing out with all she could. Her body twisted in the air as she spun and surged back, narrowly avoiding being crushed against a jagged piece of rock that would have sent her onto a fall after which her body would probably have been barely recognisable if her telekinesis had not caught her.
To say that she struck with the force of a battering ram against the writhing horror would be inaccurate since it implied that it was just one as she exploded, much like the eruption of a volcano. In her grasp the Force became a bludgeon, forged into a weapon as she thrust her hands out towards the beast and exerted her telekinetic will, a tidal wave of power slamming towards it with destructive intent much like a tank being thrown. The air was twisted as the eruption of power was felt, the ground trembled and quaked, large rocks were torn out of the ground and thrust across the battlefield as the power surged through and slammed into the monstrosity.
Truth be told she was not expecting much, certainly not for it to actually be tossed across the field, as satisfying as that would be. She wanted to hit the beast thing, destroy it, utterly crush it, so her slam collided with it in an explosion of power, the telekinetic psycho-soldier breathing heavily as she poured her energy into it, the Sigil of Hope that she wore serving as a force battery of sorts where anger did not suffice, send it flying through the air, smash the giant mutated rat creature into the ground.
