Into a Great Maw
"You win."
His voice was very soft, like the sound of wind coming from a far away place, "But this is not the end."
He raised his head, and a strange light appeared in his eyes.
That light is not the golden light of Psionic Energy or Smart Atoms, but something deeper, something that belongs to an individual himself, something that is completely awakened.
"You have no idea what you are going to face. You also don't know what kind of space death will really bring."
He lowered his head and looked at the wound on his chest, looking at the dark green blood that was slowly seeping out.
"Every soul has their place. Every soul has their purpose.
Your soul is used to be loyal to your Emperor, and the same is true for my soul."
The corners of his mouth were slightly raised, and it was a smile that smelled of wind and sand on the grassland.
"Whether you admit it or not, at this moment, my soul is nobler than yours."
When those three words fell, the eyes of the insect swarm Primarch slowly closed.
His body began to float slowly in the void, like dust in the wind.
It turned into countless tiny, shimmering particles, floating towards the dark green curtain of insects.
Those particles did not return to the insect nest, but passed through the insect swarm curtain and disappeared further into the void.
Holding the sword Grand Master looked at the scattered particles and was silent for a long time.
"His soul is more noble than ours?"
"How dare a person of the opposite sex say such words?"
He repeated that sentence in a low voice, as if chewing on an unfamiliar vocabulary.
The gun-wielding Grand Master took back the spear. He looked down at the dark green blood stains remaining on the tip of the gun, "It's not important anymore."
Holding the heavy sword Grand Master put away the scimitar, "He is dead, that's enough."
The three of them turned around and flew towards the still burning battlefield.
The particles that were drifting away were getting farther and farther behind them, becoming lighter and lighter, like the last gust of wind on the grassland.
That insect swarm Primarch, that warrior who is so similar to Jaghatai Khan?
Looking into the depths of the void before dissipating, when those eyes finally closed, it was like an eagle on the grassland returning to the clouds.
No longer looking for the direction of the wind, no longer attached to all the ridges it flies over.
On the other side of the battlefield, a Tyranids Primarch was suspended in the void.
There are three pairs of pure white bone wings on its back, with fine golden lines on the edges.
In its hand it held a long sword made of biomass crystals, with golden light flowing on the blade.
It is fighting a warrior of Blood Angels.
The warrior's movements were astonishingly fast, and every time he swung his sword, he left a fine scratch on the Tyranids Primarch's carapace.
Then Tyranids Primarch has no anger or impatience.
Its movements are still elegant, like a conductor conducting a symphony orchestra.
Its sword drew an arc in the air, and the end of the arc stopped precisely in front of the Blood Angels warrior's throat.
Blood Angels's sword also stopped in front of its chest. The tip of the sword had penetrated into the gap in the carapace, leaving only a trace of the flesh and blood inside.
The two looked at each other, and both saw the admiration in each other's eyes.
Then Tyranids Primarch suddenly smiled. The smile was very shallow, so shallow that it seemed like a habitual reaction. Even it didn't know why it was smiling.
"Blood Angels. Your Gene-Father is a very beautiful person."
Its voice was very soft, "I have seen him, in the memory of the insect nest.
That face, that kind of temperament, that kind of calmness that remains calm even when standing on the edge of hell, it's beautiful."
Blood Angels's sword moved forward another inch.
Dark green blood oozed from the wound, "You are also beautiful. But your beauty is fake."
Tyranids Primarch did not refute, but just took back the sword, "The imitation is also beautiful. At least at this moment, I understand why your Gene-Father is called the 'Archangel'. His descendant is indeed worthy of this name."
As it spoke, its body began to disintegrate at that moment.
Starting from the chest, the carapace peeled off piece by piece, and the flesh and blood dissipated layer by layer.
Its body is like ashes blown away by the wind, scattering into countless golden particles in the void.
Those particles still maintained that elegant posture while floating away, like a dance that was ending.
Blood Angels's sword tip was still hanging in the dissipating golden particles. His hands were empty, but he seemed to still be able to feel the touch of those particles when they touched his skin for the last moment before dissipating.
He retracted his sword, remained silent for a moment, then turned around and flew to the next battlefield.
Further away, a dark green Tyranids Primarch was fighting with a Dark Angels soldier.
Its body is as burly as a lion, and its shoulder armor is covered with thick dark green chitin, like a mane.
It held a double-edged giant sword in its hand, and the blade was covered with fine barbs.
Its movements are wild and fast, and every swing of its sword carries a majestic momentum that will split the opponent apart into the void.
Dark Angels's sword collided with its sword countless times in the void, making a harsh metal friction sound.
Then Dark Angels suddenly sheathed his sword and took a step back.
He raised his head and looked into Tyranids Primarch's eyes, those golden eyes burning with primitive bloodthirsty desire like the pupils of a beast.
"You remind me of my Gene-Father. Lion Al Jonson. He fought like this too."
Dark Angels's voice was calm, "But he is more powerful and stronger than you!"
Tyranids Primarch's giant sword struck down again, and the blade drew a rough arc in the air, like a lion waving its claws.
"Because I don't need weight. I just need speed. I just need you to have no time to react."
Dark Angels didn't hide, his sword thrust out from below, passed through Tyranids Primarch's breastplate, and got stuck in the gap between its spine.
The Tyranids Primarch's body froze suddenly, and the giant sword slipped from its hand and hit the void, making a dull sound like a heavy object falling to the ground.
Its body began to lean back, and its golden eyes were still burning with light at the last moment, just like Lion's last look at its prey before dying.
"Your Gene-Father is indeed very strong."
Its voice was hoarse, "But I'm faster than him."
Dark Angels didn't answer, just pulled the sword out of its body.
Tyranids Primarch's body turned into countless tiny golden particles in the void, floating over the burning battlefields like stars dissipating before dawn.
On the battlefield, there are more and more golden particles.
Each dissipating figure represents the end of a Tyranids Primarch. Those particles are floating like the curtain call of countless scenes being staged at the same time.
Dark Angels's soldiers saw those particles, but they did not stop.
Their swords continued to slash, their war cries continued to echo.
They are rushing towards the shrinking insect swarm curtain and towards the Tyranids warriors who are still pouring out.
The wind blew across the battlefield, carrying the smell of blood and golden embers.
Those Dark Angels figures disappeared into the distance of the battlefield, like a group of knights crossing the grassland, riding towards the end of the horizon.
And countless souls flew into a big mouth in the Warp.