Bzzzz~
Flickers of faint purple lightning arced across the synaptic web of the Tyranid Norn-Queen, signaling a surge in the Hive Mind's psychic will.
It hesitated—torn between abandoning this region and ending the war here, or seeking a new feeding ground.
It was a difficult decision.
The Hive Mind of Leviathan had crossed the vast void to reach this barren scar of red soil, driven by vengeance.
Yet with the Savior's intervention, everything had changed.
It had invested too much into this front—too many resources, too much hatred. Retreating now would leave a bitter taste.
What's more...
The Hive Mind wasn't even sure its ravenous bio-fleet had enough biomass to make it to the next feeding ground.
Without new biomass, the fleet would be forced to cannibalize its own creatures just to sustain the voyage.
The losses would be imnse.
This ancient intelligence of the Hive was caught in a dilemma.
Continuing the assault or withdrawing—neither was a good choice.
Suddenly, several new strands of synaptic impulses surged into its consciousness.
Before they perished, several scout units had relayed critical intel: the location of the Savior and his command center.
More importantly, they had identified a vulnerability—an exploitable weakness in the defenses that small groups of Tyranids could use to infiltrate the central core zone.
"Perhaps the swarm still has a chance to harvest biomass here..."
These fragnts of intelligence gave the Hive Mind a new option. It had found a breakthrough.
Over the past days, it had co to understand why the Savior's armies were so much stronger than other human forces. The key lay in his precise and efficient command systems.
The Savior's control systems had forged his forces into a cohesive, well-orchestrated whole.
They didn't scatter and fight blindly under the pressure of Tyranid terror like most Imperial armies.
Without those systems of command, even the mightiest firepower would crumble against the swarm.
Any breach—no matter how small—could turn the tide, potentially collapsing the entire defense line.
In the eyes of the Hive Mind, if it could eliminate the Savior or destroy his command structure, it could sever the enemy's head, dramatically weakening their capabilities.
This wouldn't just shorten the war—it might tip the balance entirely in the swarm's favor.
The Hive Mind thought further:
"That Savior must not be allowed to continue developing within the galaxy, or he will hinder the Great Devourer's consumption of the stars…"
This ancient Tyranid intelligence firmly believed that once the Great Devourer descended upon the galaxy, all life would be consud.
Even if all the galaxy's species, including those foul beings of the Warp, stood together—they still couldn't stop the maw of the Great Devourer.
In truth...
These tendrils of Leviathan were rely probes—temporary, expendable scouts sent ahead of the main feast.
Like the cloaked bio-scouts it had sent to the core of the Baal battlefield, these entities were here only to assess the nutritional strength of this region.
If the native lifeforms proved too weak, then the Great Devourer wouldn't even bother showing up.
The Leviathan tendrils would devour everything here themselves and bring the biomass back as tribute.
But as it stood now, these vanguard tendrils had labored for nearly ten thousand years and still couldn't fully devour the biomass of this sector alone.
So, they had summoned the Great Devourer—and changed tactics. Now they road the galaxy, devouring what they could and weakening the evolutionary montum of the local species.
The goal: to make the Great Devourer's eventual feast smoother and more satisfying.
But the distances between stars were vast. It could take tens of thousands of years—or longer—for the Great Devourer to arrive.
Too many unpredictable variables could unfold in that ti.
They had learned this the hard way.
Hundreds of thousands of years ago, in another galactic sector, a lack of early interference allowed a native species to flourish. It developed astonishingly quickly and managed to resist the Great Devourer. The resulting conflict destroyed swathes of the region—and the al had been deeply unpleasant.
That mistake would not be repeated.
Now, as the Great Devourer made its way to the galaxy after finishing its last feast, Leviathan's role was clear: devour, disrupt, weaken.
Ensure that when the ti ca, the feast would be glorious.
But now, the Savior had erged—Leviathan was growing wary, even fearful.
He had already started eating Tyranid flesh and turning the swarm into processed food.
Who could guess what horrors he'd attempt next?
To the Hive Mind, this "Savior" was the gravest threat in the galaxy, an abomination who would ruin the Great Devourer's banquet.
Compared to him, the rest of humanity were weak, foolish, and irrelevant.
Granted, the Savior was not the strongest being in the galaxy, nor was his army the most massive.
But they were growing. Evolving. Fast.
That rate of "evolution" unnerved Leviathan.
If the chance presented itself, the Savior had to be destroyed—devoured—utterly erased.
It wasn't just for the sake of the Great Devourer's appetite.
It was for the safety of every vanguard tendril.
If left unchecked, the Savior might destroy all of them before the main body of the swarm even arrived.
The Hive Mind processed these truths quickly. Risk levels were rising.
And so, it made its choice: to gamble everything on one final effort.
A decapitation strike—targeting the Savior directly, and the command structure of Baal.
Hssss~
With a hiss, the elder organism that housed the Hive Mind issued a new command. The space around it shimred, and three special Hive Tyrant assassins erged in the chamber.
Each of them stood around five ters tall, clad in near-silver chitinous carapace. Their blades glead with crystalline veins that shimred with unknown energy fields.
These were not ordinary bio-weapons.
Their talons were peerless—deadly and unbreakable.
And more crucially…
They could turn invisible.
More deadly than even the Lictors, these were the Hive Mind's final trump cards.
Now, it would send all three to slay the Savior.
And to win the war.
But it didn't stop there.
More elite mutated units were mobilized to support the strike team.
The Hive was emptying its vault.
This was all-in.
Zzzzzzt—
Energy rippled from the Hive Mind's chamber, as the elder Norn-Queen's spore sac opened. Bio-electricity surged outward.
Then…
A special mutated Hive Tyrant emitted a field of crackling energy. Its gaze sharpened, radiating intelligence—and endless hunger.
The Hive Mind had fully rged with it.
They were now one.
The ancient will had decided to personally strike down the Savior.
From the heart of the Leviathan bioship, a small, silver-white bio-vessel slipped silently from the tunnels.
Once in the void, it shifted color to blend into space—utterly undetectable.
It streaked through the swarm descending upon Baal.
Toward the planet's surface.
…
Surface of Baal – Central Combat Zone
A mid-sized tower rose among the ruins. It was the Savior's temporary sanctuary.
Eden had just finished a eting with several rchant representatives.
In the lead-up to the Battle of Baal, the Savior's comrcial departnts had already released notices inviting cooperation on Tyranid resource developnt.
They offered partnership opportunities in processing Tyranid biomass into food and chemical products.
Once the notice went out, rchants flooded in—racing to arrive before the war even started.
They ca knowing the planet would soon beco a warzone.
Their ships were loaded with warti supplies, which they offered to the Savior freely.
Over twenty years ago, after the Savior's domain began to flourish, its economy hit a bottleneck.
In response, the King's Court conducted deep research and launched a new comrcial division—delegating economic authority to promote growth.
That reform rapidly boosted trade and re-energized the market.
This also matched Eden's vision of comrce.
He believed the Imperium's economy was far too barren.
Without prosperous trade networks, humanity would never drive its productivity forward.
Today, the domain's economic operations were handled by two departnts: the rchant Departnt and the Comrcial Departnt.
The rchant Departnt represented the royal sector, responsible for arms sales, high-tech goods, and pioneering routes.
The Comrcial Departnt focused on civilian trade, conducting business once new routes were opened.
Years of developnt had made so rchants extrely wealthy—massively contributing to the domain's prosperity and resource stockpiles.
Those rchants knew…
This was a once-in-a-lifeti opportunity. If they waited until after the war, others would have taken every seat at the table.
In fact, the overwhelming majority of rchant representatives who arrived on Baal before the war ca from the Savior's domain. Only a few were itinerant traders from nearby regions.
They believed that the great Savior could protect them, that he would win this war, and that their contributions would be rewarded accordingly.
But for Imperial rchants, risking near-certain death to arrive at an apocalypse-tier battlefield just to develop the Tyranids' comrcial potential—it was nothing short of madness, and extrely dangerous.
Not everyone could make such a choice.
Most traveling rchants who received the call backed away out of fear, choosing to wait until after the war before even considering a visit.
Only a few who had prior dealings with the Savior's domain—or who had taken the ti to thoroughly study the Savior—made the bold decision to co in person or send their heirs.
Aside from business motives...
They mainly wanted a connection with the Primarch of Hope, the Savior himself.
Even a single glimpse of the Savior, even just making their family's na known to him, would be worth it.
Even if that ant potentially sacrificing their own lives or those of their children.
To put it simply, it was a gamble. A bet that the Savior would triumph over the Tyranids. A bet that he would not forget any who offered him their loyalty.
Fortunately, these rchants' gambles paid off.
Their safety was secured. They were granted an audience with the Savior and even obtained comrcial projects.
They profited imnsely.
Whether from the Savior's own domain or from the broader Imperium, every rchant left the Savior's office beaming with joy.
It was clear—
Their families would prosper for many years to co.
Perhaps even for centuries, or millennia. Their friendship with the Savior might ensure their lineage's survival across the galaxy.
"These fellows have guts... and vision," Eden remarked as he reviewed the list of rchant representatives.
After all, not just anyone would dare risk being devoured by Tyranids just to invest in a yet-to-be-ford Tyranid product market.
Especially those Imperial free traders.
Their ventures involved working with Tyranid-related materials—sothing highly dangerous under Imperial jurisdiction.
Even with more freedom than most, the risk of harsh Inquisitorial judgnt lood large.
No matter how you looked at it, this was a difficult decision.
But the fact that they ca now showed they believed in the Savior's protection—and had confidence in the project's future.
That's why Eden appreciated these rchants and was willing to give them more opportunities.
In his eyes, comrcializing Tyranids held real promise.
Especially in the food industry.
Looking at it from a developntal standpoint, these Tyranids—creatures that devoured everything and grew muscle no matter what they ate—were the perfect at-producing organisms.
Capable of generating massive quantities of consumable at.
Their species were diverse, filled with unique chemical fluids and internal structures. Many boasted long lifespans, invisibility, bioelectricity, acid secretion, regeneration, and frenzied combat states.
Tyranid bio-ships and flesh-based buildings could also transform nearly any material into nutritional slurry and energy to rapidly breed more organisms.
It was biotech's future. Full of potential!
Even in energy, dicine, and health supplent industries, Tyranid developnt had bright prospects.
You could even breed specialized Tyranids to help terraform planets, process garbage, clean up industrial waste, or remove pollutants.
Eden had even more ideas.
According to intelligence, one Tyranid fleet in the galaxy had already evolved the ability to consu Chaos-tainted material.
If he could cultivate a strain that could devour Chaos Daemons or Chaos Space Marines, it would beco a valuable weapon in future Chaos incursions and purging operations.
Wouldn't it be fitting for the great Devourer of Daemons, the Four-Ard Savior, to raise a swarm that consud Chaos?
The biological sage Moss had long ago crafted a special Tyranid clone-body for Eden—it had remained unused. Now, with Leviathan's genetic data, he could turn that clone into a true Hive intelligence.
With that, he could fully control the cultivation and dostication of the Tyranids.
The only remaining problem... was winning this war and capturing Leviathan alive.
Of course, even if he couldn't capture it, just obtaining Leviathan's core genetic sequence would be enough.
Eden's thoughts darkened slightly:
"Behind these Tyranid fleets, there are even more terrifying beings... Who knows what we'll face then..."
From his past life's mories, the Great Devourer was already en route to the galaxy.
And based on the lore, the Great Devourer was virtually invincible. No race could truly resist it. It could very well be the one to devour and erase the Milky Way.
"Well... whatever. One step at a ti."
There was no point worrying now.
The Great Devourer's threat was too distant, far less urgent than Chaos and the current xenos threat.
Besides...
As long as he developed quickly enough, who would devour whom was still an open question.
Fifty years ago, he had been sleepless and sick with fear just thinking about a tendril fleet of Tyranids arriving.
Now?
He was eating Tyranid at like it was a delicacy—and plotting to capture Leviathan alive.
Who could've predicted that?
So yes—threats deserved vigilance, but not paralysis.
The only true solution to all problems was steady developnt and focused internal growth.
Eden turned his attention to a report on Tyranid research, archiving it alongside the rchant list and forwarding both to the Comrce Departnt's system.
Then he shifted his focus to the Baal warfront's defenses.
Just yesterday, Leviathan's scouts had infiltrated the central zone. That defense sector now required heightened alertness—he couldn't afford a disaster in the backlines.
…
Outside the Savior's Office
"By the Emperor, this trip was worth it..."
Yor, a pudgy, slightly sweaty itinerant trader from the Hawk System, wiped his brow. His face wrinkled into a wide grin.
He'd done business once with the Savior's domain. After learning of the Savior's achievents and ideals, he held the man in reverent admiration.
When the Savior's Comrce Departnt sent out its call, Yor had ignored his family's protests and dumped nearly his entire fortune into the venture.
He loaded his only two rickety ships with supplies and rushed to Baal at top speed.
He had only one thought:
"Following the great Savior can't be wrong!"
Upon arrival, that belief only solidified.
The Savior had constructed fortresses at astonishing speed. Even during warti, the central rear zone remained orderly and stable.
Yor knew the importance of a well-maintained rear line.
Even in the dead of night, people moved diligently through their roles.
Supply warehouses, repair bases, logistics teams, hospitals—even temporary Ecclesiarchy chapels—remained in constant operation.
Were it not for the black sky full of Tyranid swarms, the thunder of distant artillery, and the gunfire echoing in the streets, Yor might've doubted he was even in a war zone.
This place was safer and more prosperous than many planets he'd seen.
"Lord Yor, what exactly is the 'Galactic Trade Hub' that the Savior ntioned?" asked another Imperial trader nearby, clearly puzzled.
Monts ago, these rchants had all been granted an audience with the great and rciful Savior—and had even been praised by him.
In high spirits, the Savior had promised them a storefront space in sothing called the Galactic Trade Hub.
None of them truly understood what that ant—but none dared ask either.
Yor thought about it and shook his head. "Not too sure myself... maybe a new trade port? But anything the Savior promises must be priceless…"
Whatever it was, it sounded lucrative.
The na alone spoke volus.
And in truth—
These rchants didn't yet grasp just how astronomical that promise was.
The Galactic Trade Hub that the Savior had casually granted them access to?
It would be located within the Webway.
It would beco the core nexus of interstellar comrce across the galaxy. Its value would be beyond estimation.
Even the high nobility of Holy Terra would salivate at the thought of owning such a storefront.
If they could, they'd trade their most prosperous planets just for a permanent stake in it.
Yor was just about to say more when—
BOOM—
A massive explosion rocked the area, accompanied by violent tremors. rchants were thrown off balance, tumbling to the floor.
In the next mont, piercing alarms wailed.
It ant a critical defense sector had just been breached by the swarm…
(End of Chapter)
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