The Imperium's Border: Blasphemous Assembly

Vito had never liked wearing monk's robes. To be honest, he never understood why religious zealots enjoyed making themselves so uncomfortable, as if such asceticism would actually make their gods glance their way. Was this kind of self-torture supposed to be meaningful?

While Vito didn't care for the hedonistic orgies of Slaanesh cultists either—truth be told, that was fun but ultimately life-draining, as your body and soul would be devoured in the repeated revelry, literally trading your life for a thrill—he had no intention of handing his life over to any god.

Vito walked down a long, diamond-shaped corridor, surrounded by steel reinforcement structures. These massive mechanical constructs supported this forgotten corner of the deep underground, a place abandoned by The Imperium and human civilization.

Countless candles and prayer ribbons were scattered everywhere, with shrines to the Lord of Redemption dotting the path. As Vito walked through this entrance hall of the ancient subterranean metal cathedral, he was flanked by several monks in similar robes, holding hanging banners and swinging smoking censers.

Ding-dang, ding-dang. A rhythmic religious melody played incessantly in his ears. This pilgrimage procession moved through the corridor, and Vito kept a wary eye on them. There was no need for guesswork; these individuals, taller, stronger, and more robust than the average human, were Genestealer Cult infected.

There were even two purebloods among them. Even draped in robes, their physical structures, so clearly distinct from humanity, were impossible to hide.

Surrounded by the pilgrimage procession, Vito passed through the long corridor and exited at the far end, entering the main body of this massive underground structure.

Vito looked around with slight surprise. It was a grand, vast, and imposing subterranean temple. Above him, all around, and even below, were layers of galleries and platforms. Countless levels and colonnades were packed with believers.

There were humans, Genestealers, and even second-generation or near-atavistic purebloods. They stood together without distinction. Clearly, the Crimson Essence had altered the neural pathways of the human believers, rendering them as incapable as the Tyranid infected of recognizing the nightmares and horrors standing before them.

They lived with these terrifying monsters in a state of twisted affection. Humans and monsters cheered and praised their deity together; such irrational combinations were everywhere.

The pilgrimage procession walked along a main thoroughfare. On the lower ground on either side, countless believers and Tyranid monsters waved their arms in unison. Their voices coalesced into a violent, frenzied celebration. A cacophony of sounds blended together—some still recognizably human, others completely beyond identification.

Vito looked toward the far end. At the terminus of the road was a massive platform carved and fitted into the wall, suspended over the abyss. On the shrine atop that platform sat a magnificent statue: a golden, gleaming Tyranid Progenitor.

The prototype of that statue, the nightmarish creature itself, sat cross-legged beneath it. The four-meter-tall monster rested on a shimmering golden dais. Its massive, sturdy head was filled with dense fangs, and a curled, slender tongue coiled within its maw. Its four terrifying claws, capable of slicing through power armor, rested casually at its sides. Yet, Vito knew that if the creature wished, it could launch a lightning-fast harvest of life.

Surrounding the Tyranid Progenitor were its guards—pureblood Genestealers clad in armor, crawling on the ground with their sharp claws and powerful limbs, like a pack of wolves ready to strike.

Beside the Progenitor stood the Arch-Bishop of the Genestealer Cult. He raised his staff and slammed it against the floor. A sound like a cathedral's great bell echoed throughout the hall, instantly suppressing all the clamor.

All the believers turned their gaze toward the absolute center of the room.

Vito and the pilgrimage procession reached their destination. He arrived before the Progenitor and the Arch-Bishop. The pilgrims dispersed to the sides, unfurling their banners in an arc to face the crowd below.

"Brothers! Sisters! Today, we welcome a new redeemer!" the Arch-Bishop shouted, raising his psychic staff. Clearly, his voice was amplified by psychic power, allowing it to reach every corner without the need for external equipment.

"Our Archangel shall bring us a new redemption!" The Arch-Bishop gestured for everyone to look at the Progenitor. The massive Tyranid monster heaved its body, raising its two claws. The razor-sharp talons reflected a cold, chilling light.

It was met with a roar of fanatical cheering. Below, humans and non-humans screamed in a frenzy, an endless stream of chaotic praise rising and falling. The Arch-Bishop watched the crowd with satisfaction and signaled for silence. Surprisingly, the fanatical madmen actually quieted down.

It was evident that he was influencing these Tyranid node-creatures through psychic resonance. Just as the data Vito had obtained suggested, the effects of the Crimson Essence were indeed remarkable.

Vito glanced to the side. Henry was there, standing on the periphery with other high-ranking leaders. Yet, Henry seemed more rational than the others; he wasn't shouting or displaying signs of madness.

Instead, he looked at the Progenitor with a hint of conflict and hesitation in his eyes. How interesting.

Vito looked back at the Progenitor. The giant monster was watching him, its blood-filled maw opening and closing slightly before him, the gold ornaments hanging from its body swaying with the movement.

"The Great Progenitor has received the will of the gods! They, our redemption, are coming! The gods' heavenly host shall arrive from across the sea of stars! We are about to complete the Path of Redemption!" The Bishop shouted with passionate fervor, and the response was an even more intense, frantic cheer.

The believers shrieked hysterically. The most fanatical atmosphere enveloped everything. When the news that the gods were about to arrive reached their ears, it felt like the release of pheromones, driving these madmen like the primal instincts of beasts.

Vito was certain that this pheromone release was triggered by the highest-ranking Tyranid node-creature present. At this moment, that was clearly the Bishop; the only other possibility would be the Patriarch. Hmm. The Tyranid system is truly fascinating, isn't it? You don't need persuasion, understanding, or even orders. You only need emotional resonance to trigger the instincts of the subordinates present.

As before, the Bishop didn't need to shout or persuade; he simply raised a hand, and the frenzied audience fell silent with unbelievable speed, even for Vito.

"And today, we welcome a brother, Brother Vito Constantine." The Bishop pointed at Vito. The latter raised his arms like a victor of ancient Terra, greeting the cheers and applause from below.

"We shall welcome him as our brother, to embark upon the final redemption with us." The Bishop raised his staff toward the Progenitor, his gaze filled with what could only be called devotion. "Our god! Our guide! Grant him enlightenment!"

The Progenitor opened its mouth slightly. A long, curved tongue extended, its sharp injection organ at the tip dripping with viscous liquid. That was the method used for maximum-level genetic infection; the first Tyranid infected on this planet had been born exactly this way.

"Step forward, brother, and receive your blessing," the Bishop said joyfully. Vito looked at the Progenitor, then glanced sideways at the pureblood Genestealers. After a moment of thought, he took a few steps forward, arriving before the massive monster.

The Patriarch's maw drew closer to Vito's chest. Everyone watched, witnessing the Progenitor about to complete the injection and infection. It would only take one strike to inject the infectious agent into Vito's chest and assimilate him in a short time.

Vito watched the approaching injection organ. It drew closer and closer; he could almost feel its heat. Vito raised his eyes to look at the Patriarch, staring into those bright, piercing eyes.

An explosion erupted. A violent blast tore through a corner of the hall, drawing the attention of all the believers and the Bishop. From the thick smoke, countless laser beams and bullets sprayed out.

Countless believers were slaughtered and fell in the first instant. From the smoke, a group of people armed with various weapons charged in. The leader, wielding a Bolter, blew the head off the nearest believer with a single shot. "Kill these Devout Society bastards! All of them!"

Mal Hammer roared. His men and the Syndicate boys poured in, unleashing destructive firepower upon them. Among them was Marshall, who charged into the fray with a lasgun, glancing toward Vito and giving a slight nod.

The Bishop turned his head, wanting to say something, but all he saw was a flash of plasma lightning. It was the lightning from the plasma pistol in Vito's hand. He smiled at the Bishop.

"Right on time, isn't it?" Vito's smile widened as the plasma lightning danced toward its target.