Squad Fury
"I've never personally seen an Ork decide to staple ork stuff to other creatures, but they are very much Orky see, Orky do. I remember back on Promethea one saw me spray a Nob with the Intoxicator, and decided to make a beer cannon. Best loot I ever took, if I could only get the rat bastard to work. Could have found any number of nasty gribblies out in the void, Tzeentch's minions are pretty much nightmares of mutation that could have caught their eye, and there's always the old myths of Fabius Bile. And I've heard some rumors in the bars of a cult that's mixing themselves with a variety of XNA, but I haven't beat any to death yet..."
And a staggering crash interrupted Corvus's diatribe, which would have probably turned shockingly racist shortly. He looked down the tunnel and did some quick drunken math in his head. The odds of his plan being safe, or even sane were low, but hell, you only live once, or as many times as the Chaos Gods feel like bringing you back.
"Alright, when everything flashes and time seems to stand still, run to combat. This may have longer reaching consequences..."
And with that Corvus warptimed himself, using his increased speed to throw alcohol in the form of an ancient sigil before putting his pistol into the booze sigil and firing, lighting everything ablaze as he channeled his power into it. Rituals are meant to be done with time and reverence, so the approach of doing it at 10x speed so he can make everyone run fast probably was a bad idea, but hell, Corvus was very rarely known for his restraint in most things. He also hated being called a sorcerer, he preferred, free lance practitioner of reality breaking.
You are sooo fucked. Maybe if I was there..
Last time I took you on a mission, you possessed Johnson and I had to put him down. You are in time out until you learn to behave. How are the walls of my cargo container looking? Still barren and steel?
Fuck you.
After his brief lambasting of Skull, the sigil activated, making a bubble of warptime around Corvus everyone in it moving as if they were a superhuman monster.
"Keep up or you'll be crawling while we sprint."
Corvus started jogging, cognizant of his slower allies not being able to keep up with his superior mahreen legs. Fury firing out of the warptime bubble might be bad, or he might be firing rail gun shots, physics with reality breaking madness is a fickle thing, up to an arbiter beyond even the mighty Corvus Dallaus, perhaps even beyond the mighty gods of Chaos.