"The power of friendship," [i]The Black Templar muttered weakly, doing a stumble before leaning against a nearby wall, his breathing heavy, new wounds having found their place on him. He was bleeding quite a lot still. The Tyranid horde eventually stopped completely, every single bug being killed by now. The Templar was still leaning against the wall, his breathing still rather heavy. Wheezing now, too.[/i]