As Jace downed the cultist in the middle room, Knoffer approached the crates. With only a slight creak from the wooden planks, he grabbed the remaining heretic's head, covering his mouth and swiftly strangling him. As he slid the corpse behind the crates, he heard some kind of heathen lingo from the nearby corridor.
The sound had alerted the last guard securing the room: as he came out to check the source, Tincan had already lined up a shot with his bolt pistol, taking him out before he could reach for his comm; at the same time, Spectre and Wraith opened fire, assuring the target would stay down for good.
Nobody else came; the area was secure, at least for the moment. Tincan checked the last corridor: no surprises there as well. He double-checked for booby-traps or hiding enemies and found nothing. However, he was feeling somewhat uneasy. He had fought his fair share of Chaos filth in his life, both as a simple trooper and as a scout. Hell, he had a maimed face to prove that. And in all of his encounters with the forces of the Archenemy, he had witnessed how its forces spread its taint wherever they went, desacrating everything they touched. But these cultists... they were different. No marks on their clothes or flesh to show their loyalty to the Dark Gods. None of them seemed to carry unholy simulacra of Chaos in any form.
Tincan was a creature of habit, forged by the harshness of the seemingly eternal conflict waging on Cadia. This change was subtle, yet unnerving. Something felt wrong to him. He couldn't tell what. "Maybe I'm just paranoid. - he thought - They're Chaos filth. Nothing has changed. And they will fall, for the Emperor."
Snapping out from his thoughts, he voxed the Commissar. "Area secured, Commissar. We can move on. Sorry if it took so much. I didn't want to rush things, so I preferred asking San to go in first after assessing the situation, as he's the best of us with CQC and silent takedowns. Next time I'll act accordingly, sir. Knoffer out."