Stukov sighed, which was painful sounding due to the underlying gurgle of blood that came with it, as Golden Bitch decided to become cannon fodder for Maltheus and his newest, grandest method of trying to escape being taken as a prisoner by the Inquisition. Seems she was an unwilling participant as well, as she was taken by the force unwillingly and mutated, the guts and blood spewing everywhere made the Armsman holster his sidearm and take the Cogboy rifle in both hands, already drawing a bead as the thing roared, warp tendrils waving everywhere and creating all sorts of ruckus. If the headache and voices he heard before were bad, this was a whole other level of pain and suffering in his brainspace. He was not unshielded, having spent his entire career guarding himself from the warp while engaging it, even on its own territory, but with the sheer sensitivity and raw outbursts of power left him ragged to begin with. But he stood his ground, scowling as he lifted the rifle and trained it on the abomination, firing off a shot that seemed to take out one of its flailing limbs, but to no real avail as it also took the spear and other attacks the retinue added. Boss showing up and taunting it probably didn't help, and if he could speak, he would have probably been rather ticked about the man putting himself in harms way like that.

When the cruel aura of lethargy grew and begin lifting them off the ground, the Armsman growled as his eyes seemed to flicker between sapphire blue and their natural color, subconsciously fighting the influence of the warp abomination. His wounds bled faster, to be sure, and the blood loss was indeed there, but he struggled against the lack of gravity, lifting the Cogboy rifle to try and fire again, adding in another high powered round in addition to the massive waves of power coming from Smiles as she screamed and unleashed waves of powerful lightning against the warp abomination. Stukov faded in and out of consciousness during the ordeal, each fade in consciousness meeting with an increase in power from the sapphire glow, while struggling back seemed to bring him back to the natural order of his eyes. Soon enough they were dropped, and he hit the ground, collapsing under his own weight, barely catching himself with the Cogboy rifle. Groaning he forced himself up onto his feet, gaze pained but rapidly hardening as he turned to set his gaze on Maltheus. This one, the source of all this chaos and mayhem, he would not pay for his arrogance and heresy.

The Armsman slung the Cogboy rifle, drawing his Naval Pistol and reloading, the empty magazine clinking in the now eerie silence as the Armsman stood to tower over the heretical cult leader, and for all the damage he had sustained, exuded an aura of pure dread, although this was not so much a warp extension as it was that, no doubt in the eyes of Maltheus, this mortal Armsman, no augmatics or heritage of power beyond an apparent untrained, newly found, and raw connection to the warp had stormed through every defense he had, refused to die in the face of better trained, or armed, psykers, daemons, and thugs, and was now standing over him, armed with the means of executing the man. From what Sis had said, medical help was coming, and he levered the Naval Pistol towards the head of Maltheus, before lowering its aim and putting a round through his knee cap, blowing apart the man's knee and preventing any possible means for him to escape before slamming the hilt of the pistol onto his head, knocking him out cold, or intending to, and ripping the bayonet from his abdomen, binding the wounds in dead silence before standing and taking a step off the platform before collapsing, finally, under the weight of fatigue and injury. He was still conscious, and he gestured towards Boss, and then at Maltheus, attempting to indicate the man was of great importance and would have information, no doubt. Hard, considering his vocal cords were utterly destroyed.