You Will Begin to Evolve, My Son
The moment the Hive Prince was stuffed into the nutrition tank, his consciousness was about to dissipate.
Before closing the still-lit blue-white eye, the last thing he saw was the silver-gray arc of Perturabo and Forgebreaker under the setting sun.
Then, it can't see anything.
The dark green liquid filled the entire petri dish, and the temperature of the liquid was a full twenty degrees lower than the body temperature of the hive prince.
At the moment of contact, the wounds that were still oozing blood shrank at the same time, and the biomass gel in the cracks in the carapace began to solidify, scab, and heal.
Its body was suspended in the liquid, its limbs hanging limply, and the Seven-Colored Sword was still stuck on the sand dozens of meters away, shining dimly in the sunset.
It could do nothing but float in the warm and dark liquid, feeling that its body was being repaired bit by bit.
The wound is healing, but slowly.
Perturabo's few slaps not only shattered its carapace and bones, but also shattered its central nervous system.
Every repair is accompanied by severe pain.
That kind of pain is not the feeling of nerve endings being touched, but a deeper burning that comes from the soul level.
It felt like it was being lit from the inside, every cell was screaming, every nerve was groaning.
In that pain, Great Devourer's will came.
Not through Psionic Energy, not through communication, but through the biomass veins in the hive prince's body that are connected to Hive Ship.
It was a dark green light pouring down from above. It had no temperature or sound, but its existence itself caused the liquid in the nutrient tank to start boiling.
Those bubbles rose from the bottom of the tank and rolled around the body of the Hive Prince, as if being stirred by some invisible hand.
"You will recover, my son."
The sound had no specific meaning, no clear syllables, only a low pulse like a heartbeat.
That pulse echoed in the Hive Prince's consciousness, and every beat exploded a new layer of images in his mind.
It saw its missing arms regrowing in the nutrient solution, saw its broken spine being reconnected in the biomass gel, and saw its shattered face slowly and unstoppably returning to its original shape.
"You will evolve. Be stronger than before. Be more perfect than before."
Those images began to change.
It saw twenty new figures taking shape in the incubation pool.
The shapes of those figures are different from the creations killed by Roge·Dorn before. They are taller and thicker, with fine golden lines flowing on their carapace - that is the remnant of Smart Atoms, which is the genetic imprint left by Imperium of Man's most powerful warrior.
"Twenty new warriors will be reborn under your will.
They will no longer be just your shadow, but your arms, your claws, your blades.
Their power will be connected to yours, their will will be in sync with yours.
You are no longer Swarm Prince."
The dark green light condensed in the consciousness of the Hive Prince, and finally turned into an indelible declaration like a brand.
"You are the king of the swarm."
The last four words echoed in its mind, like war drums, like thunder, like the sound of some ancient code engraved on the bottom layer of Hive Mind being activated.
The body of the Hive Prince trembled slightly in that light - not because of fear, but because of a sense of satisfaction that it had never experienced before, as if it was recognized by some more powerful existence.
It lost consciousness.
During the time when the Hive Prince was sleeping, Imperium was not idle.
Roge·Dorn sent an emergency communication to Terra as soon as the insect swarm retreated.
Not through Astropaths, because the shadow of the insect swarm is still lingering over that star field, and the ordinary Psionic Energy signal cannot penetrate at all.
He sent the news back to the Imperial Palace through Webway, the ancient path that had just been repaired and connected to Milky Way.
The message traveled through Webway at a speed far faster than any Warp voyage, and it only took one day to arrive at Terra.
Guilliman raised his head from the pile of parchment, and his bloodshot blue-gold eyes scanned the contents of the emergency communication.
His fingers tapped on the table twice, the rhythm was slow and steady.
Then he stood up, picked up the dark blue coat hanging on the back of the chair, and draped it over his shoulders.
"Pass the order."
His voice was calm, "All mobilizable fleets will assemble in the direction of the retreat of the swarm fleet.
The command Ultramarines Second Company will start immediately, the command Blood Angels Chapter will respond immediately, and the command Dark Angels Chapter will support immediately.
Tell them - this is a war of annihilation."
The command spread throughout Imperium in the shortest possible time through the dual communication channels of Webway and Warp.
The blue fleet of Ultramarines departs from Macragge, the red fleet of Blood Angels departs from Baal, and the green fleet of Dark Angels departs from the Rock.
There are more warships gathered from more places - Iron Warriors's silver fleet, Imperial Fists's golden fleet, as well as countless auxiliary fleets, transport ships, and supply ships.
Titus stood on the bridge of Macragge's Honour, looking out the porthole at the sea of stars that was rapidly passing by.
His broken arm has been reattached, and Smart Atoms completed the repair work during that time, and new muscles and bones are growing at a rate visible to the naked eye.
But the shame of being pinned to the ground by Swarm Prince still flows in his blood.
His gaze passed through the porthole and landed on the dark green curtain in the distance.
"Let the sea of stars boil."
His voice was not loud, but every word was like iron filings squeezed out from between his teeth, "Making the stars fall."
We once owned the entire Milky Way, and we own it now.
But a bunch of damn bastards came to our territory, eating our people and destroying our homes.
In that case - let them perish."
He raised his newly connected arm, spread his fingers, and faced the dark green curtain that was surrounded by Imperial Fleet.
"Let them remember the despair of this moment forever!"
In the communication channel, all the voices of Ultramarines sounded at the same time. The voice was like the roar of thousands of thunders, echoing in the void.