94th Dark Crusade (21): Hive Mind
Karyl slowly came to a stop.
He looked up and gazed at the sky. The sky over Sotha must have been beautiful, though Karyl had never seen it, but he was willing to imagine it. He thought the sky over Sotha was most likely a very tranquil, very beautiful pale blue.
This planet and its star system are located on the very edge of the Imperium's territory. They are occasionally ravaged by war, but have never been destroyed. The Emperor's Scythes has taken good care of this place and even has the capacity to patrol other nearby planets.
They were role models, just like all the other Sons of Guilliman Roboute Guilliman. Now, less than one-tenth of them remain.
The same is true of Sotha; however beautiful the sky of this planet may have been, whether it possessed the texture of an oil painting and intoxicating clouds, it is now a burning red.
There are no clouds or blue skies, and peace is gone. The aftermath of the war between the combined fleets has spread here, and the wreckage of warships captured by Sotha's gravity is entering the atmosphere.
The vast majority of them were destroyed by the weapon arrays of the orbiting space station, with only a small number escaping and launching an attack on the surface of Sotha. Among them were fragments of metal warships and huge chunks of Tyranids.
But there are more spores.
This means the first phase of the Hive Fleet's attack has begun—several vanguard ships, having broken through the blockade by sheer numbers and luck, are instinctively releasing spores into Sotha's atmosphere.
Given their size, the insects carried by these spores are not particularly large; some may even resemble the actual "insects" found in Sotha. However, they are still Tyranids, and size cannot be a significant factor in assessing their level of danger.
These tiny parasites, protected by spores, burst into the atmosphere and quickly land on the surface of Sotha, transforming its fertile soil into something entirely different.
Once this process is complete, they will eagerly attack the plants. Within hours, all the native plants on the surface of Sotha will complete their final genetic mutation, becoming a deadly species capable of converting oxygen into toxins.
They are about to become the driving force behind the infamous dark red sky during the Tyranids invasion.
After that, their main force will make its appearance.
Belisarius Cawl gripped his massive axe tightly, activating the ferocious weapon. His voice, amidst its hum, was indistinguishable from the roar of a chariot engine.
"Are you sure you don't need me to activate my laser protection network? I've prepared for this day; it can intercept any spores that might land near the city before the energy runs out."
"Dear Cawl, I still don't think it's necessary."
Karyl looked up at the sky and spoke softly. After saying this, he lowered his head and looked at the Archmagos, who was much taller than him.
"Moreover, I'm more curious about why you insist on staying by my side. This place is going to become the most dangerous battlefield. Can't your clever mind foresee that?"
Do you want a more insincere answer, or a more truthful one?
Karyl smiled and shook his head, "From the moment we met until now, you've always acted very genuinely—so I guess the answer is something like experimental data?"
"Indeed," Cawl said, raising his giant axe through his right arm.
The axe's sharp edge gleamed, and it didn't look like the work of the Mechanicum. In fact, Karyl was certain he saw a personal emblem on the side of the axe belonging only to the Tenth Legion Primarch Ferrus Manus.
"How interesting," he thought. "I'm starting to wonder if I've been dead for ten thousand years, or a hundred thousand years."
"You're very frank, so I'll be frank too. To this day, I've collected most of the Primarch's combat data through various means. Some are written descriptions, some are video recordings."
"I have many missions to carry out, at least a dozen of which were directly assigned by the Golden Throne and its Sigillites. I cannot reveal the specifics to you, but I can assure you that this information will be of great help to my missions."
"For example, Lion Alderson's cruelty and swiftness, and Angron's bravery and fortitude."
He mysteriously extended an appendage, then gripped it tightly and shook it, as if he were holding a flask in a laboratory. He didn't pursue the topic further, and Karyl slowly shook his head.
"You should be glad I'm an enlightened person, Cawl."
"And I'm a conservative," the Archmagos chuckled strangely. "When I first learned of your existence, I was even somewhat reluctant to accept it."
"So, what prompted you to accept it?"
Cawl didn't answer the question; he simply lowered his giant axe. His visual sensors—and any implants encompassed within the realm of perception—were screaming at his nerves.
The strain caused by so many components roaring together was staggering, but Cawl was still able to handle it, and even seemed somewhat relaxed.
He silently recorded the scene before him through his prosthetic eye; in his vision, Karyl Lohars' eyes had become two doors connecting to the Sea of Destruction.
They are flesh and blood, soft and unharmed eyeballs residing in their sockets, yet they are also a direct medium for a psionic tide that sweeps across an area of unknown distance.
A gale began to rise, and within seconds it escalated from a strong wind to an indeterminate level, visibly shooting into the sky and completely engulfing the burning curtain, like gray paint spilled onto an oil painting due to a painter's trembling hand.
Cawl's alarm system activated, but instead of backing down, he extended his limbs and firmly anchored himself to the wheat field not far from the city.
They were right in the eye of the storm, but the wheat around them merely slumped down, without actually leaving the soil.
A second later, the whirlwind that shot straight up into the sky began to move, blowing little by little from one end of the wheat field to the other, without causing any damage; not even a single ear of wheat left the bent stalk.
Karyl walked calmly, his whole body radiating an unusual sense of "activity".
It told him that this was just the beginning of the warm-up and immediately urged him: Give it your all!
He naturally did not do so.
That's enough.
The sky began to spin, scattering the smoke-filled clouds. The burning spores that streaked across the sky were swept up in the whirlwind and quickly destroyed by the razor-sharp winds, instantly releasing the billions of parasites they carried.
Pitch black, twisted, restless, and only visible under a microscope. Fortunately, there were so many of them that even with the naked eye, one could clearly see the black tapestry gradually disintegrating in the storm.
They died in the whirlwind without making a sound, without feeling regret or fear, and Karyl immediately sensed an indifferent yet rational gaze upon them.
It does not originate from a single individual, but rather from a swarm, lurking silently within the undecomposed corpses of parasites, so numerous as to drive one mad, yet all sharing the same will: cold, ruthless, and greedy.
Karyl looked back calmly.
He was struck by an indescribable shock.
He smiled knowingly, turned to the massive chariot following closely behind him, shrugged, and said, "The first step of the plan seems to have succeeded, Cawl —what was our first step again?"
"I don't remember," the Archmagos replied honestly and earnestly. "I only want to know what will happen next."
He didn't get an answer, but Roboute Guilliman did, and he didn't want that answer.
He stood on his command platform, gazing at the Hive Fleet. Then he noticed that the scattered mass of flesh was coalescing.
They were once independent individuals, each with its own species and subtle external differences. But now things are different; the distinctions between these disparate lumps of flesh are disappearing.
Boats and insects are slowly, in the vacuum, using their predatory tentacles to penetrate each other's bodies, growing ever closer. The biomass and passengers they carry are merging together in the accumulation of flesh against flesh.
The remains of Purestrain Genestealer were shattered together with the lowest-ranking Termagant; the Gargoyle's head and the carapace of the Lictor were being stitched together by the Ripper.
Roboute Guilliman, of course, couldn't see such details, but he had a holistic view, so he could clearly conclude that the Hive Ship was merging all its ships.
Theoretically speaking, this is entirely possible, because the internal organs and blood of insects are made up of even smaller insects, and their ships are also made of insects.
This means that they can combine under the influence of the Hive Mind, just like any ordinary Hormagaunt, to form a chitinous exoskeleton, muscles, blood vessels, and internal organs.
Roboute Guilliman struggled to convince himself with this newly conceived theory.
Okay, here are the questions and options.
Q: Why would it do that?
Option 1: Karyl Lohars.
Option 2: Karyl Lohars did something he didn't tell him.
Option 3: Karyl Lohars, at the instigation of the damned, audacious, foolish Belisarius Cawl, carried out a crazy plan.
Roboute Guilliman filled in all three options on the test paper, then walked off the command platform with a livid face.
This time, he practically ran to the communications array to urge his crew, only to be told by his frustrated helpers that the Macragge's Honour still couldn't contact the surface of Sotha.
If Belisarius Cawl knew about this, he would most likely express great regret and then begin to promote his various upgrade options for Macragge's Honour. He had wanted to do this for a long time, but Roboute Guilliman disagreed.
Unfortunately, Cawl was unaware of this; he was currently busy calculating data and didn't have time to do anything else.
As the data streams overlapped, Cawl gradually came to a conclusion: this illogical plan was very likely already in effect, and success was only a matter of time.
Unlike others, Cawl did not view the Hive Mind as a living being; he did not believe that a being with flesh and blood could do what it had done to the Imperium.
Moreover, the Hive Mind Will strictly adheres to one principle: it will use any means to try any possibility in order to shorten the course of the war.
Looking at it this way, doesn't it seem more like a pre-programmed sequence of events?
Looking at the center of the sky, which was gradually darkening, Cawl knew that this principle had once again taken effect on the Hive Mind.
"The plan succeeded, Cawl."
Karyl calmly declared in the eye of the storm, turning to look at Cawl. He meant no harm, Cawl believed, but he would still pay the price for bearing that gaze.
High-temperature steam erupted from his back and was quickly torn apart by the storm. A fragment that the Archmagos had placed in his chest began to emit even stronger energy to power the thirteen engines that were placed all over his body, without any regard for whether he needed them at the moment.
However, this was not what he cared about most right now. Through the satellite, Cawl's field of vision was divided into sixteen unevenly sized sections. He observed the rough, massive warship from various angles, still feeling pain in his heart.
The Macragge's Honour about twenty kilometers long, while this Tyranids behemoth was roughly fourteen times its size. And that's just its length; its width is even more considerable. The Hive Mind simplified the process, transforming all the living ships in the fleet into parts for a single behemoth.
Cawl couldn't even imagine the density of the ship, and that it wouldn't even need to fire weapons; its sheer weight alone would be enough to cause a massive catastrophe upon impacting the surface of Sotha.
No matter how many times he studies the Tyranids, this race can always bring him something new.
For a pure researcher, this is a good thing, as it means their thirst for knowledge can be satisfied time and time again.
But Cawl is not a pure researcher. Whether others believe it or not, he embarked on this path to save humanity. From this perspective, he utterly despises the Tyranids's seemingly endless evolution.
He forcefully took control of the weapon array that was firing at the giant ship according to the automatic program via satellite command of the orbital space station, and then dispatched forty airships from the ground launch silos.
His specially designed Combat Servitor occupied every corner of these airship compartments; they would support the space station that had already been boarded. Having done this, Cawl focused intently on taking aim.
He wanted to test the giant ship's defensive capabilities at maximum power.
Three minutes later, the space station's weapon array fired a scorching torrent that illuminated the night sky, at the cost of temporary overheating. Cawl looked up and began to observe from the perspectives of the sixteen satellites and his own eyes, and the result was not beyond his expectations.
Even at maximum power, the orbital space station's weapon array failed to inflict any damage on the giant ship.
The salvo did indeed penetrate its incredibly thick chitinous armor, creating a huge crater beneath it. But that was nothing to the ship; it had even begun to heal itself.
Cawl carefully chose his words and slowly began to speak in the darkness that was almost completely falling.
"I must admit, you have an incomprehensible foresight. My satellites tell me that the Hive Fleet has gone mad; it has thrown all its ships into an extremely brutal bio-fusion."
"I have reason to believe this is nothing more than a ploy to gather biomass and create a killer that it sees as a match for you. Everything is as planned, but the problem is, what are we going to do with that massive ship once it's fully fused?"
"That ship won't be around for much longer," Karyl said.
Twenty minutes later, his words came true once again. Through satellite imagery, Cawl saw with crystal clarity the latest state of the giant ship: it was disintegrating.
The carapace, hundreds of meters thick, was the first part to show this sign; its unusual cold white color turned completely black within minutes, then shrank and turned into mucus.
The exposed flesh and blood followed closely behind, and huge bluish-gray meridians of unknown purpose pulsated rapidly on its surface, causing the flesh and blood to wither quickly and eventually turn into ashes.
From bow to stern, every part of it began to disintegrate. The combined fleet didn't even need to continue firing; this unprecedented behemoth slowly met its demise.
Its skeletal remains drifted in the vacuum, rapidly freezing and long since losing their vitality. The once-occupied starry sky was now empty, but Cawl still spotted a small white object.
He manipulated the satellite, mobilized computing power, and magnified the image.
He saw an embryo.
No, it's not an embryo, but a small spaceship that only looks like one. Its streamlined shape and smooth, white surface are Deceit. It's not large, not even as big as a Cobra-class destroyer, but it's extremely fast.
The jet vents, designed later and placed on both sides of the spacecraft, are helping it, in its original way, to quickly penetrate into the Sotha orbit.
At this moment, no force can stop it.
The sky blazed once more, and a streak of light, like a shooting star, slowly streaked across the horizon, hurtling straight toward the wheat field where they stood.
Cawl felt a sharp pain; he didn't know where this feeling came from, but he hid it well and didn't show it.
The only person who could perceive this emotion at that moment wasn't paying attention to him at all; he was staring intently at the sky, the Radiance in his eyes fading as the gale dissipated. At that moment, however, Cawl heard a hissing sound that sent chills down his spine.
It wasn't language, but a sound originating from within his body. He immediately performed a self-check and discovered that at least hundreds of data processing interfaces were crashing, their shared damage sending a message to Cawl.
The next second, an electric spark suddenly erupted from inside Cawl's body, the gears stopped turning, and the inevitable overload and high temperature spread from his feet, instantly igniting the wheat field.
Amidst the acrid smoke rising from the burning wheat, Cawl roared in humiliation.
He was hacked.
He— the Archmagos Belisarius Cawl —was possessed by the Hive Mind through psionic attacks!
A shadow swept across his eyes. Cawl, furious yet unable to move, watched as the spaceship slowly descended through the sky, landing smoothly in front of them without making a sound. The wheat field continued to burn, quickly turning the surrounding world into a hellish scene.
Amidst the swirling smoke, the ship's pristine white hull suddenly cracked open, then faded like a withered flower, crashing into the mud on either side and quickly turning to ashes.
A tall, humanoid creature rose from the center of the ship.
It also has a pure white carapace, and four strong arms hang down at its sides. Bone blades, much sharper than knife blades, swiftly spring out from the sides of its arms, severing some of the flesh and blood vessels connecting to its body.
It was tall, yet its posture appeared hunched, its back bent, its curved legs deeply embedded in the ground, and its muscles slowly expanding beneath its smooth carapace. Its smooth, oval head quietly turned toward Cawl.
In that instant, Cawl lost his sight.
A burning pain shot through his optic nerve, and the implant's error messages were incessant. The data stream swept through his processor like a collapsing mountain, bringing a nightmarish experience.
His backup vision sensor unit was quickly activated instinctively, then failed again, activated again, and failed again.
Cawl had to manually reprogram the system, temporarily rebuilding the photosensitive units and other sensory processors within the vision sensor into a new "vision" system, with even more data continuing to flow through.
He had intended to continue observing the battle in this way, but he failed. At this moment, in the world of 0s and 1s made up of data, a large area of pitch-black gibberish that did not belong to any number suddenly appeared.
As soon as they appeared, they swarmed in, like millions of bloodthirsty flying insects, rushing into Cawl's data processor and forcing his already overloaded processor and brain to become even more overloaded.
He collapsed to the ground, convulsing amidst the constant sparks of electricity.
Karyl noticed this.
"You should be focusing your attention on me," he said, slightly surprised. "He shouldn't be a threat to you."
The thing turned its head to look at him; its head was still smooth, but Karyl could see a pair of eyes. These eyes hung high above the creature's head, from an ancient being beyond the Milky Way, carrying an endless, eternal hunger.
His eyes met hers.
"Then let's begin." Karyl nodded to it and walked towards it amidst the blazing fire.
The creature stood still, waiting for him, without launching an attack. Their actions made the start of the battle extremely strange; there were no earth-shattering gales or forces powerful enough to shatter mountain peaks, only one side advancing and the other waiting.
It wasn't until Karyl approached that the creature finally changed its posture—in the microseconds that cannot be called time, its previously relaxed four arms suddenly clenched and swung upwards.
The bone blades, imbued with powerful psionic energy, grazed Karyl's face by a hair's breadth. He watched the four blades slice through the sky, genuinely surprised by this unexpected attack.
He could dodge it, yes, but the speed and power this creature displayed...
Could Roboute Guilliman, without a mental forge, dodge this blow?
He began to make comparisons in his mind and came to a negative conclusion. He slightly raised his head and looked at the four gleaming bone blades, which were wrapped in psionic energy from the Hive Mind. Karyl would not question their strength and sharpness.
He understood that no ordinary metal—whether it be Adamantium or Auramite —could withstand these four bone blades.
In other words, if it were the Lord of Macragge from ten thousand years ago, his armor would probably have been pierced by this creature in a single encounter.
Karyl paused his thoughts for a moment, throwing a punch with restrained speed, which collided head-on with the two blades. He threw a fist, but what he struck was a jet-black straight sword instead of the two bone blades.
The two streams of psionic energy began to collide. Karyl narrowed his eyes, ignoring the clash, and simply maintained his psionic energy output at a balanced point before using it as a pawn in his own power struggle.
The agent of the Hive Mind's will let out a silent roar, its carapace once again being pushed up by its muscles, and the flickering flames around it casting their Shadow on its pristine white shell.
With a flash of light, its other two hands slashed towards Karyl, but still failed to land a blow. Karyl blocked the attack with his left hand, but to his surprise—it had become faster.
Isn't this the limit?
He clenched his fists, increasing his strength. If a point of reference were to be given, his current strength would probably be the same as that of Angron before he lost his arm.
Despite the immense pressure, the creature did not retreat an inch; it even had the strength to retaliate. It slightly raised its bone blade, interrupting the struggle, and slashed at his seemingly undefended ribs with unimaginable speed.
Karyl stepped back to dodge the attack and engaged the creature in hand-to-hand combat with the speed at which Lion El-Jonson swung his sword.
Despite being outnumbered two to four, he never came out on the defensive. He dodged every attack from the Hive Mind by the slightest margin, or simply swatted it away before the bone blade could even touch him.
Despite appearing to be handling the situation with ease, Karyl grew increasingly serious as the fight progressed. He could sense that this creature was gradually becoming stronger.
Its power and speed are being enhanced in this battle, not by psionic energy, nor by the influence of the Hive Mind, but by some kind of "design" within its body.
In other words, it is gradually realizing its potential.
What are its limits? Is it stronger than Vulkan? Faster than Kolus Corax? It doesn't even need any skill; its sheer force and speed are enough to destroy most of the Imperium's warriors.
So, can it learn skills? Tactics? Needless to say, looking into those illusory eyes, Karyl knew it was perfectly capable of doing so.
The Tyranids are capable of continuous evolution; they are genetically modified organisms that can evolve traits that completely counter their enemies.
Thicker skin, greater strength, faster speed, extremely strong self-healing ability, bio-plasma capable of destroying armor, and force field waves capable of blocking communication.
You've been fighting this thing for almost ten thousand years, Roboute. It must have been tough for you.
Karyl let out a soft breath, releasing himself from the restriction on his power.
With a flash of cold light, four arms flew high into the air, and tissue fluid gushed out from the thick blood vessels buried deep in the flesh. It was then locked in place by the pulsating muscle fibers at the wounds, which seemed to be living organisms. Another kind of pale white muscle rapidly spread and grew from these granulation tissues.
In just a few seconds, it grew a new arm, and the bone blade shot out again, launching a new attack on Karyl. This time, the chitinous carapace on its arm was visibly thicker.
Moreover, their surfaces have also changed; a transparent film, the name of which Karyl did not know, shimmers inconspicuously on the surface of their shells.
Karyl tried to swing his sword again, but this time, the psionic energy failed to work on it and was completely absorbed by the thin membrane.
He stepped back to dodge the monster's follow-up counterattack, increased his psionic energy output, and swung his sword again. The membrane shattered, and both arms flew high into the air once more.
The monster retreated silently, its chest armor suddenly splitting open, and several tentacles resembling predatory whiskers shot out powerfully, pulling all six of its severed arms back into its body.
At this moment, it had completed its regeneration. The membrane transformed into another type of carapace, covering the original white carapace. Its newly grown arms now appeared extremely robust, but their shape had also changed.
It was no longer a structure resembling a human hand, but rather a mechanical-like structure, with bone blades replacing the original forearms and becoming increasingly thick. It looked extremely deformed, but Karyl had no doubt about its lethality.
"We can't keep fighting like this." He frowned.
There are many Hive Mind, and no one knows whether they can communicate with each other in some way. These fleets each have their own strengths and have evolved into different forms based on the defensive capabilities of the different regions they invade.
Although their underlying logic remains similar and they still make good use of swarm tactics, the differences between them are so great that it is difficult to classify them as the same species.
Karyl had originally intended to test the creature's combat capabilities to categorize it in the archives and advance research on the Tyranids, but now he had changed his mind.
If the testing continued, he felt that this creature was likely to bring him some unpleasant surprises.
However, one crucial question remains: is this organism merely an emergency measure, or is it a pre-prepared insectic "Primarch" that can be compared to the original Primarch?
He narrowed his eyes, and his figure suddenly vanished from the spot. When he reappeared, two sharp blades had already pierced through the monster controlled by the Hive Mind. He drew his sword with irresistible speed and began to swing his arm with extreme focus.
Precise and unstoppable slashes rained down on the monster, piercing and shattering it. Its living tissue fluid and muscle fibers tried to embrace each other and stick together under the blade's blows, but Karyl held back no longer.
Minced flesh and tissue fluid splattered out continuously, then were completely controlled by psionic energy. The wheat field burned, the sky darkened, and the rapidly approaching Macragge's Honour appeared and disappeared in the sky. There were no clouds in the sky, but it was raining in the wheat field—a man-made rain.
The raindrops are fragments of flesh and tissue fluid, the scattered pieces of a powerful creature being dismembered and ejected time and again. It tries to resist, but resistance only brings more horrific violence.
Its instincts could no longer comprehend how to deal with such a "battle." In a higher-dimensional world, it was pleading for help from the Hive Mind, but the Hive Mind also failed to understand, leaving it bewildered.
It couldn't understand why such an independent entity could exist within the material world. Only when its proxy was dismembered down to its twitching lower body did it realize that its judgment was wrong.
Moreover, this time there will be no opportunity to relocate to other planets to replenish biomass; in other words, it is about to face [a new challenge].
Die?
Karyl answered its question by shaking his head.
--There are still quite a few bugs on the space station, but there's another Xenos also staying there.
He took a step back, calmly lowering his hands, the blade that had been pressed against his wrists disappearing into his wide sleeves like a venomous snake returning to its nest.
Countless blue glowing lights floated around him, illuminating the entire wheat field and even casting huge shadows in the air. It looked beautiful and breathtaking, but upon closer inspection, one would find that they were actually all broken flesh and blood bound by psychic energy.
Karyl turned and walked toward Belisarius Cawl, who was being electrocuted repeatedly and hurling curses in binary language.
Karyl reached out and pulled him up, discovering that some of Cawl's appendages had actually returned to normal and were repairing themselves. Soon, he regained his sight.
At that moment, Cawl never imagined that he could even feel "shock".
He was momentarily speechless, staring at the surrounding blue dots of light. His processor, which had just recovered, seemed to be overheating again. Fortunately, he quickly regained his composure. However, the Archmagos's suffering today did not seem to be over yet.
He was about to speak when he saw another shooting star streak across the sky. A few minutes later, a gunboat landed slowly, and an enraged Roboute Guilliman pushed open the hatch and strode out, charging toward Cawl.
"Whose idea was this?!" Lord Macragge roared, his voice echoing across the wheat field.
Karyl silently stood to one side.
Cawl stared at him in disbelief.
"Uh--" he tried to utter a single syllable, but Roboute Guilliman had already rushed in front of him and grabbed his limb.
"What kind of engine did you install in yourself, Archmagos?" Roboute Guilliman asked in a low voice, his face contorted with rage.
"I modified and developed it myself."
"And what about the energy source?"
"."
"What kind of energy source did you install for yourself, Archmagos?"
Karyl turned his face away and shook his head at the Victrix Guard who wanted to surround him, and they understood and went back to the gunboat. He looked up at the sky again and sincerely wished that Sotha would never have to suffer such hardship again.
Roboute Guilliman's voice came from behind him. "Shouldn't you give me an explanation, Instructor?"
Karyl turned his head, blinked, and without hesitation raised his hands. "I can write many written reports for you."