Bukayo had gone ahead by more than two solar cycles. As a "Child of the Night," he fully rged with the darkness, instantly sensing an all-encompassing enhancent in his physical strength, ntal acuity, and spiritual sensitivity.
He keenly found a remote, narrow passage and, using his youthful fra, slipped into a space no normal person could enter.
Cautiously, Bukayo removed the grate to the power supply room and nimbly dropped onto an enemy's shoulders, firmly driving a sharp dagger into the man's eye.
The scream drew the attention of other enemies, and footsteps echoed.
Bukayo's eyes sparkled. He leapt up and pulled the power switch.
The deeper the night, the stronger he beca.
This was his hunting ground, his sacrificial ritual after receiving the blessing.
Nareth slled the scent of blood emanating from the building where the Arbiter was stationed, even though he was still several kiloters away.
One kiloter from the main gate, he began sprinting.
Thanks to his prior digestion of the "Lawyer" potion, he was already one-third of the way through absorbing the effects of the recently consud "Barbarian" potion.
To Nareth, the core concept of the "Barbarian" was not savagery but the unrelenting shattering of rules. This aligned perfectly with his plan to unify Vostroya through sheer force after awakening his genetic mories as a Primarch.
Of course, if he could break the rules and appear savage while doing it, the digestion process would be even more effective.
Thus, Nareth charged like a human tank, ramming straight into the temporary guard formation at the main gate.
One kiloter was too short, he didn't even reach top speed before he was plowing through the crowd.
Eight n barely raised their guns before they were sent flying. Their arms bent like noodles, their chests caved in, and they rolled several tis midair.
A deafening boom briefly cleared their dazed minds. In their final monts, they saw the entire wall of the Arbiter's office on the third floor collapse.
The gang mbers saw it more clearly, their master took a running leap and smashed through the wall, seizing the once-aloof Arbiter in his arms.
Dimitrov's head crashed through the roof, his vision swimming.
"You're…" The Arbiter's pupils shrank. From the deep-set eyes and vaguely familiar features, he recognized the towering figure. "Nareth… How did you… beco this?"
Nareth didn't answer, and Dimitrov's consciousness began to fade. He struggled to speak:
"Kill … and Lord Estupinian… will erase you."
"Thank you for the information."
Nareth responded, snapping Dimitrov's neck.
He picked up the Arbiter's broadcaster and activated the do-wide announcent channel, turning to his followers.
"People say a Lower Hive dweller stepping into the Upper Hive is like ascending to heaven. Even Lower Hive folk believe it, hopelessly to the end."
"But is it really impossible?"
"Today, we will shatter those chains, not by begging for the Upper Hive's rcy, but by taking."
The thunderous voice of the gene-primarch shook the do.
"I, Nareth, will lead you into the Upper Hive!"
Soaked in blood, Bukayo pulled his dagger from a guard's back, his eyes gleaming.
Just one work cycle ago, he thought he'd never have the chance to return to the Upper Hive.
Now he was returning with a new identity, not just as a"Sleepless" but also Nareth's "Child of the Night."
Workers across the Hantmann West Do grabbed weapons and tools, left their factories, and joined the swelling crowd.
The head of the freight elevator guards shouted, "Shut the gate!"
As the gate groaned shut, he sprinted toward the control room, the only place he could send a warning to the other side of the vertical lift about the uprising.
He only took two steps before gunfire rang out behind him.
Roslov shot the gate operator and charged in with a hundred elite troops. Nareth had entrusted him with capturing the elevator to the Upper Hive, he would not disappoint.
He didn't yet know whether Nareth was truly so divine being, but he'd stopped calling him "boss."
Since Nareth had denied being a god, he decided to call him "my lord" for now. In his ti following Nareth, he had seen that loyalty and the ability to complete missions mattered more than anything else.
Nareth boarded one of the cargo lifts alone. In each of the other seven elevators, ten elite soldiers were stationed.
Clutching their weapons, the people felt themselves rapidly ascending. Around them, other elevators rose and fell, pipes tangled like webs, and harsh lights flickered through the haze.
They couldn't help but murmur:
"So this is what the Hive really looks like. I never knew."
"From here, the dos look like an anthill."
Upper Hive, Cargo District E-1989
The station manager frowned when the lights in Sector F-17 flickered on. He muttered with displeasure:
"Hantmann's people are getting more undisciplined. This is the third ti in five cycles they've shown up without prior notice. Even with the increased output, they should at least inform us."
"Sir, I heard Dimitrov's about to be promoted to the Upper Hive for his performance; his production quotas keep rising.
The statistician lowered his voice, "Rumor has it he got in with a side branch of the royal family."
"Lucky bastard. It's nearly impossible that Hantmann West Do produced soone like Nareth. I heard he even defeated the Gold Rank Barister Golovin. Managing a Hive-wide industrial union is beneath him."
The station manager sighed in envy. He couldn't fathom the reason why Nareth had refused offers from the Fender and other great houses, and to return to that cesspool in the Underhive.
He shook his head and switched to the Fender family's communication channel.
"A delivery from Hantmann is here. Send soone to pick up the goods."
"Sorry for the trouble. I'll be right there."
The station manager hung up, pleased at the bribe he'd receive for the "trouble." He leaned back and glanced at the monitors.
Only for his smile to instantly vanish.
"What the hell is that?" he shouted, eyes wide.
The statistician leaned in. "An Ogryn?"
The station manager shook his head. They saw the giant grab a guard and swing him like a weapon, knocking down a crowd.
He fumbled for the vox communicator, desperately switching channels—
BOOM.
A deafening crash. Then the glass shattered.
The giant had thrown the guard straight at the observation booth.
Even more terrifying, the guard flew dozens of ters through the air and shattered bulletproof glass.
Before they could react, the guard smashed into them. Both fell unconscious.
Nareth had previously traveled between Hives via passenger trains as a special Barister for the Fender family. This was his first ti in a cargo terminal.
But the mont he charged out of the elevator, he had full control of the environnt and instantly pinpointed the control room.
He issued a command to Roslov: "Take the others up."
Then, he looked up toward the hive spires piercing the clouds, where the true ruling class of the Hive resided: the noble houses.
Nareth had once visited a spire, the Fender family's.
Now, he was looking for the spire of the Boleslaw family.
He locked eyes on two equally tall spires. The other clearly being a bastion of the Omnissiah's servants.
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