I leaped over an emaciated flagellant, hitting the floor and putting three rounds from my autopistol into a screaming tribesman. Blood spurted and holes blossomed in his chest cavity and neck just before he collapsed. I was moving even before his face hit the floor, following in Emmaline's wake. I could feel her distress like ice shards plunging into the periphery of my mind. The electric wiring roiling out of the archway in the parody of a maw, I entered, stepping as carefully as I could. I needed to hurry, but in my state it would be almost impossible to pick myself up again without damaging myself internally, and as heroic as it would be, my agonizing death would help my team little. 

I managed to enter the room just as Emmaline was knocked off her heels. Fortunately I was already running, and so I merely needed to redirect my feet to catch her before she fell into the skeletal remains of the bodies, catching her within my sword arm and aiming my pistol at the next brute, my next bullet punching through the augmetic eye and crumpling the near-human mongrel. My next rounds tore into two psykers, ending their servitude and sending their souls to the emperor's side. Emmaline looked up at me with her wide blue eyes, and I gave a tight smile. 

"Hence the importance of firearm accuracy without tricks," I teased with a raised eyebrow, referring to our bet in my first attempt at teaching her the value of target practice. She gave a dazzling smile, and I could have kissed her if we did not have another acro-flagellant bearing down on us. I aimed and fired, but my autogun was empty. Cursing, I pushed Emmaline to the wall and ignited my powersword, the blade roaring to life as I brought it in line to skewer the murderous zealot. It tore through the former-man like ripping through wet paper, but its weight still hit me. I cried out more pitifully than I would have liked when I felt the pressure of his entire upper half hitting my torso. 

"Hadrian!" Emmaline cried as I grimaced, gripping my abdomen and stubbornly keeping to my feet. She ran to my aid, but I shrugged off her hands and gave her a look. One of trust and command in equal measure. I hastily reloaded by autogun, squaring my jaw.

"Kill the psykers and that bastard in the center." I told her, having surmised the plot swiftly enough, stumbling off to the left and using the energy weapon to scythe a path through the bodies, bones melting at every swing. The autogun's muzzle flashed and more rounds ripped into trapped psykers as the priest at the center began to yell, his voice rising in volume, the words spilling out of him as if drawn by some eldritch power.  

Lazarus had picked his way through the bodies with his extra limbs, spidering over tables and chairs and thick wiring as he approached the center of the room. He braced himself against a pillar and fired his weapon again, the trans-uranic arquebus detonating his immediate surroundings and punching through two caged psykers, rending steel and leaving a blue flame in its wake.