i wrote a story

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Screaming masses of flesh and teeth threw themselves at the man, attempting to end his life for their dark gods. They were once brave soldiers, working under the man. Now they were something twisted, something beyond saving. Servants of forces unknown.
They threw themselves at him, inhuman sounds flying like bullets at the man.
The one who appeared to be the leader of the pack exploded into a lifeless lump the moment he moved, the psychic energy of the man crushing it in an instant.
A second threw itself at him, an explosive shell taking what was once it's head off. It crumpled into another bloody pile, twitching as the man walked over it.
Two more of the creatures attacked him. They were sliced in twain, the four bloody chunks hitting the metal deck with a thud.

He continued walking, combat boots stamping down hard on the icy cold deck. A tall metal door, around 10 foot tall and 5 foot wide stood tall and defiant ahead of him.
From his coat he pulled a small device, cold steel with engravings in a long dead language carved into it. He thumbed a small plasteel switch on the top and looked as it lit up with an unnatural blue light, thrumming with similarly unnatural energies.
In his other hand, he held a blade. Around a third of his height, it was a standard chainsword. He had used this one for over a century. Runes and xeno words were seen up it's length, glowing with the same light as the device.
Once these went dark, his mission to the throne would be complete and he would be dead.
But that was the life of an Inquisitor.