The ancient Tyranid's eyes burned red, and the folds of its brain squird in agitation.
It was engulfed in an indescribable rage and humiliation.
Unlike the more beast-like lower Tyranids, this Hive Mind-controlled Tyranid possessed profound intelligence and emotion.
This was one of the key reasons why the Tyranid swarm was so powerful.
Their massive numbers, relentless evolution, and the singular, calculating mind binding the entire swarm into a cohesive whole made them a force of pure annihilation.
Since the Tyranid Hive Fleets arrived in the galaxy ten millennia ago, they had swept aside resistance with ease. Few races could withstand their devouring advance.
Countless worlds and living beings had been consud as nourishnt for the swarm.
The best others could hope for was to delay their assault or temporarily drive them away.
To be more accurate, the Tyranids would often retreat on their own once a region was deed nutritionally depleted, moving on to richer feeding grounds.
To the Tyranids, this was nothing more than a buffet. There was no need to fight to the death.
In fact, under certain conditions—such as when the food quality was abysmal—the Tyranids would outright refuse to consu a planet.
For instance, so planets polluted by Nurgle's plague-ridden viruses would cause the bugs to vomit and suffer diarrhea after just a few bites, forcing them to abandon their feast.
Even Tyranids wouldn't stomach such foul, disease-ridden flesh.
Feeding on such filth was like gorging on excrent in a cesspool.
Of course, so specialized Hive Fleets evolved to handle Chaos-corrupted biomass cleanly.
One such fleet, known as Kronos, road near the Great Rift, gorging itself on Chaos cultists, corrupted lifeforms, and even Chaos Space Marines.
Truly a peculiar appetite.
But regardless, the Leviathan Hive Fleet remained the most elite of them all—one of the largest swarms in the Tyranid race.
It had inflicted imnse damage upon the Imperium of Man.
Its advance seed almost unstoppable.
Holy Terra feared Leviathan deeply.
To prevent the swarm from reaching the Imperial heartworlds, even the Adeptus Custodes were deployed in violation of longstanding edicts.
The High Lords prepared to issue an Exterminatus order on an unprecedented scale, crafting a dead zone to force Leviathan to divert.
All of this demonstrated how terrifying Leviathan truly was.
But now, it had suffered multiple setbacks. Its aggressive assault on the Imperium had stalled and incurred severe losses.
Progress had beco exceedingly difficult.
The Hive Mind had already discerned the root of these failures—the mastermind behind the resistance: the Hope Primarch, the Savior of Humanity.
From the Stygies Campaign to the defense of Ba'al, this enigmatic figure had orchestrated every maneuver, commanding the human forces from the shadows.
His presence had brought devastating losses to the swarm.
The Great Devourer's vanguard had suffered its greatest defeat in history.
"The Swarm will consu him entirely!"
Burning with the flas of vengeance, the Hive Mind swore to dissolve the Savior and all his allies into a puddle of bio-slurry.
This, in fact, was the real reason the Hive Fleet chose Ba'al as its battlefield—not just because of the Blood Angels, but because the Savior himself was here.
The Hive Fleet sought to hunt him down.
But barely had the swarm arrived when they were ambushed by rampaging daemon beasts and Orks, severely blunting their offensive.
Ordinarily, daemons, Orks, and humans were mortal enemies.
They were the last forces one would expect to cooperate.
And yet… it happened.
The Hive Mind's vast intellect was montarily baffled. Its analysis of the intelligence uncovered an even more troubling truth:
Both the daemon beasts and the Orks were closely allied with the Savior.
Especially that foolish daemon beast.
He appeared to be the Savior's most loyal ally, even willing to sacrifice his own power to join the Savior in ambushing the Tyranids.
It was the most absurd occurrence in the galaxy.
When the Hive Mind reached this conclusion, it began doubting its own cognitive functions—and hurriedly bred several more Neurothropes to reinforce its thought matrices.
The galaxy had changed too quickly—so fast that even ancient Tyranid wisdom couldn't keep up.
Fortunately, the foolish daemon beast had now departed, and the Orks were bogged down on Baal Secundus. The Tyranids had shaken off those threats and gained precious ti for an assault.
But just as it mustered its full might to unleash the fiercest swarm upon Ba'al—
It slamd directly into a wall of steel.
Wave after wave of flesh-tide was intercepted by entrenched fortresses, firepower, and massive vehicle battalions.
The Savior's firepower seed endless, never pausing for a mont.
Countless swarms were buried under chemical bombardnts.
Even if so broke through the barrage, they were bogged down in fortified kill-zones and annihilated by coordinated human forces.
The Hive Mind suddenly realized—Ba'al was like a bottomless abyss, a maw that could never be filled no matter how many Tyranids were thrown in.
It was… unnatural.
This human force was stronger than any army it had encountered before.
"When did humanity beco this powerful?!"
Even more troubling—
No matter how much it evolved, altered tactics, or deployed new bioforms, the enemy always found ways to counter them swiftly.
The Hive Mind reached a grim conclusion.
While the Tyranids adapted to the battlefield…
The humans were evolving even faster.
Within re weeks, the humans had pinpointed Tyranid weaknesses and rolled out over a dozen types of specialized chanical, chemical, and biological weapons.
It was a staggering rate of advancent.
But in truth—
The rapid output of new Tyranid-targeting technology was not because of recent speed. It was the culmination of decades of accumulated research, finally unleashed in the fires of war.
Ba'al's war labs were overflowing with Tech-priests ("machine-oil guys"), making daily breakthroughs.
Moreover, it wasn't just Ba'al conducting this research.
The Savior had mobilized the entire chanicus through the chanical Forum.
He had created a dedicated section on the forum, uploading every bit of Tyranid data and updating it in real-ti, calling upon all interested tech-priests to collaborate.
All participants would receive a highly coveted, limited-edition honor badge of the Machine Goddess, along with a mountain of gear coins.
But honestly—
Most senior Tech-priests joined just to get the badge.
They even sacrificed their own resources to contribute, all for that sacred collectible.
The participant count beca so overwhelming that the forum eventually closed new entries.
Many latecors were left devastated, desperately trying to get into projects run by those with approved access—just to earn a chance at the badge.
After all, gaining a Machine Goddess relic was a once-in-a-lifeti opportunity.
It was a symbol of faith, and also of prestige.
Aside from its collectible value and flashy effects, each badge granted rare privileges.
This particular limited-edition badge ca with two uses of maximum computational power—a direct assist from the Machine Goddess for your research.
Such access was priceless.
Because the badge distribution requirents were so strict, it had beco a true status symbol.
In the fully digitized forum age, badges mattered far more than vague honorary titles.
Those who earned badges like "chanical Leader" by achieving excellence in specific fields beca part of new elite cliques.
If you didn't have one, you simply couldn't break into their circle.
Thus, every ti the forum launched a badge campaign, enthusiasm exploded—it beca a major way to raise contributions and activity.
This latest Tyranid-focused campaign was no exception.
Thousands of senior Tech-priests, even Forge World overseers, halted their existing projects to pour in resources.
Beyond Ba'al's lab, countless labs across the Imperium were collaborating, each handling different phases of the experints—massively accelerating progress.
The result?
A terrifying arsenal of Tyranid-targeted technology.
On the battlefield, it was nothing short of overwhelming.
Eden had always believed the Imperium of Man was a top-tier galactic power—not nearly as weak as many presud.
The only problem was that the Imperium was fractured.
Its vast territory, severed warp routes, and broken communication left humanity's strength divided into countless isolated pieces—unable to resist its enemies.
But—
If united, humanity's power would rise to unimaginable heights.
This was, after all, the entire purpose behind the Tithes.
The Imperium existed to centralize its scattered strength, though inefficiently and painfully, often at the cost of great suffering.
Now, Eden had found a better way.
Through the Webway and restored communication, he had unified mankind's strength—and even recruited other races.
He sought to reduce humanity's pain and despair, and bring forth a sliver of hope.
The Savior's decades of effort were now fully reflected in the Battle of Ba'al—a pri example of his vision.
Many Imperial Guardsn and Space Marines finally understood:
"So this… is how humanity can fight.
Victory is possible—without endless sacrifice."
And judging by the current results—
Humanity's gains were phenonal.
Under normal circumstances…
No regional human faction could possibly resist the Leviathan Hive Fleet. Even if they fought to the bitter end, sacrificing 12,000 just to kill 800, the best outco would be a temporary Tyranid withdrawal.
But under the Savior's organization, Leviathan faced the combined strength and wisdom of multiple races and the entirety of the Imperium.
In truth, that ancient Tyranid intellect was now getting brutally gang-beaten by a coalition of powerful forces.
Compared to the soaring morale of humanity, things weren't looking so good for the Tyranids. The Leviathan Hive Mind was now in a state of prolonged rage.
"Damn it… CURSE IT ALL! This is an insult to the Great Devourer!"
Its furious psychic roar echoed across the void, channeling through the synaptic web, reverberating through every living ship and command creature, flooding the nerves of every single Tyranid.
Hunger and helplessness on the battlefield were driving this ancient intelligence into despair.
And then—
It discovered sothing even more unbearable.
The Savior was experinting on Tyranid biomass—conducting not just weapon tests, but biological studies, farming programs… even food product developnt.
According to the most recent human mory data—
That damned being was attempting to create canned Tyranid at in various flavors, build production lines, and sell it throughout the Imperium, so all of humanity could enjoy the delicacy of bug at.
Outrageous!
This was nothing short of blatant humiliation and mockery of the Great Devourer! Tyranids were the hunters, and all life should be their food.
Yet now, those weak humans were trying to eat the swarm.
How arrogant was that!?
To avoid waste of biomass, every Tyranid organism was filled with deadly acids and unprocessable toxins.
Their flesh was specifically evolved to be inedible by other races. Even buried underground, they still polluted the soil.
In other words, Tyranids had worked hard to make themselves non-edible.
And yet, that accursed Savior still managed to target them.
Unforgivable!
The Hive Mind's massive body trembled with rage—and a hint of fear.
But the ancient intelligence cald itself. Logic reminded it:
"Given all conditions, the Savior's foolish plans will fail…"
From a genetic and evolutionary standpoint, the swarm could never beco a food source. The Savior's ridiculous idea was dood!
At least, that's what the Hive Mind believed.
No species had ever succeeded in turning Tyranids into food.
Especially not humans.
With this thought, it steadied itself. It deed humanity—occupants of the galaxy's lower food chain—incapable of making Tyranids their sustenance.
That creeping fear? Nonsense.
Then—new bio-electric signals arrived.
The Hive Mind received fresh mories from its recon organisms on the surface of Baal.
And in that instant, it emitted a violent psychic backlash and nearly blacked out:
"NO! Humans… are already EATING IT!"
The ancient Hive Mind completely broke down.
The scouting unit had sent back multiple horrifying visuals:
First, a food lab. Inside massive reinforced glass tanks, living Tyranid organisms floated in chemical solutions.
Nurous white-coated Tech-Priests and Adeptus Astartes of the Sons of Man moved among the tanks. So were injecting chemicals, others were slaughtering and dissecting the bugs with surgical precision.
"Praise the Savior! This bug tastes decent. at yield is okay. Could serve as a primary at source…"
An Astartes chewed live Tyranid flesh, turning pale as he identified the toxin profiles, allowing the Tech-Priests to adjust the chemical pools.
Then, the at was mass-processed in those tanks to dissolve acids and neutralize poisons.
The Hive Mind's emotions surged, and it felt a chilling fear crawl up its spine:
"These cursed humans… this is a Tyranid slaughterhouse!"
No being would remain unmoved watching a slaughterhouse made for its own kind.
Then the vision shifted—
A field canteen. Military cooks were frying up dishes over blazing stoves.
Frying.
In the cooking pans were unmistakable chunks of Tyranid at. The dishes included things like:
Poro Pepper Stir-fried Tyranid at
Tyranid Burgers
Grilled Hive Steaks
Cooks served the dishes to armored combat squads for tasting and scoring.
The Hive Mind's psychic presence beca labored, staggered by not just defeat on the battlefield, but now the sight of Tyranids being stir-fried and enjoyed as cuisine.
It was a feeling of helplessness.
For ten millennia, humans had lived in fear of being hunted by the swarm.
Now, the Savior was letting the Hive Mind taste the sa helplessness—the fear of becoming prey.
Even if just a sliver…
"Too dangerous. This phenonon must be eliminated!"
The Hive Mind imdiately sent out new pheromone commands, instructing its bio-ships to re-engineer Tyranid genes, adding stronger toxins to ensure they could never be consud again.
Tyranids must never beco food.
HISSSSS—
The Hive Mind forced itself to remain composed.
But the next image caused it to screech in psychic agony:
"Damn that Savior—he should've been turned to slurry!"
The vision showed a conference room.
On the long table sat ten different canned Tyranid at products, each labeled with the Tyranid sigil and phrases like:
"Interstellar Nutrition – The Food of the Future"
On both sides of the table sat neatly dressed, serious-looking humans.
And at the head of the table—
The Savior himself.
Behind him hung a red banner reading:
"Initial Tasting & Industrial Developnt Symposium for Tyranid at Canned Foods"
Under the eager gazes of the attendees, the Savior took a golden spoon, scooped up a bit of Tyranid at, tasted it, and gave a thumbs up:
"Delicious at quality. Rich in nutrients. Suitable for large-scale promotion."
He praised the brave food industrialists who dared co to the Baal warzone and participate in the program, promising them preferential decrees.
He encouraged full-scale developnt of the canned Tyranid at industry—to usher in a new chapter of human cuisine.
Thunderous applause filled the room.
And then…
The Savior's eyes slowly shifted—to the stealthed micro-recon bug.
For a mont, his gaze seed to see everything, causing the Hive Mind's aged, chitinous body to flinch.
Then ca screams and boltgun fire.
The image cut to black.
Clearly, its carefully bred scout organism had perished…
The Hive Mind's consciousness surged erratically as it processed the grave implications.
It longed to send the swarm to annihilate every location seen in that feed—but it couldn't.
Those locations were all deep within the central war zone, protected by fortified bastions.
The swarm was locked out of those defenses.
Even infiltration efforts were rapidly eliminated.
The latest intel confird it—
The situation had beco even more critical.
"Perhaps… the swarm should withdraw. Leave this dangerous region…"
Such thoughts crept into the Hive Mind's consciousness.
The galaxy was vast. So many rich feeding grounds remained.
If it simply retreated elsewhere and devoured other prey, not even the Savior could follow it.
(End of Chapter)
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