If That Was My End

A complex emotion flickered in its eyes.

It wasn't sadness, but a kind of emptiness it had never experienced before, as if someone was pulling something out of its body.

It stood still, watching Titus and the twenty Ultramarines.

Its body was covered in wounds—the wounds were slowly healing under the influence of Smart Atoms, but at a much slower pace than it had anticipated.

Its carapace was covered with fine cracks, the marks left by the twenty Ultramarines working together under Titus's command.

There was no weariness in its eyes, only a strange, earnest seriousness, as if it were savoring something new, carefully experiencing it.

"I've become stronger." Its voice was deep. "Because of that magical power within you—that power beyond our time—it has made me, already standing at the pinnacle of our era, even stronger. You should be able to feel it, right? My speed is faster than before. My strength is greater than before. My reflexes—I can even predict your trajectories before you launch a combined attack. Smart Atoms, truly terrifying things."

Titus looked at him, his blue-gold eyes showing no anger, no fear, only a calm as if he were looking at roadside trash.

His voice was very soft, almost as if he were talking to himself. "You're nothing but a thief who steals other people's power. You'll never truly possess this power, because it originates from our Gene-Father. You're just a vessel, a replica that doesn't even deserve to have power of its own."

The Swarm Prince tilted his head slightly, a hint of amusement flashing in his amber eyes.

"It doesn't matter. At least I am powerful now. At least—you could barely fight me before, but now you are no longer worthy. Even the twenty men behind you will perish here."

It took a step forward, and with that step, dark green Psionic Energy exploded from its body, simultaneously knocking back Titus and the twenty Ultramarines.

The warriors tumbled a few times in the void before regaining their footing and reforming their ranks.

Their formation remained intact; the twenty men still stood as one, like a giant slowly adjusting his posture.

"Because I am invincible," the Swarm Prince's voice was calm. "Because I am stronger than all of you. All twenty-one of you, plus the warriors still fighting in the distance, plus the reinforcements on their way—none of you are a match for me."

Titus looked at him, his blue-gold eyes still devoid of any emotion.

The corners of his mouth even curled up slightly, a composed smile that said, "You've already been sentenced to death."

"You can fight all twenty-one of us. Can you fight all of us here?" His voice was calm. "Our stamina is inexhaustible, at least compared to you insects. We also have the blessing of the Gene-Father. Your Shadow in the Warp are useless against us."

He took a step forward, and as he did, the Power Sword was held horizontally in front of him.

"Final victory will only belong to us. Because all of you—will die."

The Swarm Prince's pupils contracted slightly.

It sensed the power surging from Titus —not Psionic Energy, not Smart Atoms, but something deeper, more essential, something slowly being released like a source.

That was Guilliman's blessing, which traversed the entire shadow-shrouded Warp, passed through all the attempts to conceal it from the interference of the insect hives, and landed precisely on Titus.

The light shone within Titus, a warm and bright blue-gold color.

The light enveloped his entire body, completely repairing the slowly healing wound on his front and calming his slightly rapid breathing back to a steady state.

The Swarm Prince remained silent for a moment.

Then it laughed.

There was no sarcasm in that smile, only a complex, satisfied surprise, like seeing an old friend finally show their true skills.

"Yes, you will win in the end. I can feel it. I foresee it. This is my strongest state. It will be hard for me to surpass this. I have obtained everything I can. Even if it means death, I will be here—even if it means death, it must be this time."

It used such a beautiful performance, such endless war, to bring about its own demise.

How delightful that was!

It has devoured too many humans, which gradually gave it some human emotions during its long evolution, allowing it to understand the thoughts of those warriors who could single-handedly defeat ten thousand men.

At that moment, it felt that it was more suited to be a warrior than a king.

Or rather, it now aspires to be a warrior.

The Swarm Prince stopped and raised the Seven-Colored Sword.

"Come, Titus. Let me see just how far your future truly lies."

Titus remained silent.

He raised his sword and leaned forward slightly.

Behind him, the twenty Ultramarines simultaneously raised their weapons. Their gazes pierced through the burning battlefield, through the scattered Primarch of the Primarch swarm, and through their comrades fighting in the distance, finally settling on the dark green figure approaching them.

The figure, though repaired by the Smart Atoms, still bore fresh wounds, and its gait revealed a certainty that only came after abandoning all other options.

They had foreseen the end, yet they still stood, still held their swords, still guarded the line, because they knew that behind them lay the future the Imperium was building.

Titus's sword cleaved through the void.

The Power Sword drew a blue-gold arc in the air, colliding with the Swarm Prince's Seven-Colored Sword.

The moment the two swords clashed, dark green Psionic Energy and blue-gold light exploded simultaneously, causing fine cracks to appear in the surrounding void.

The Swarm Prince's body was jolted back several meters in that instant, but its arm did not tremble, and its sword did not deviate.

It steadied itself, and the corners of its mouth turned up again.

Okay. Let's do it again.

Titus did not speak, but simply raised his sword again.

The twenty Ultramarines behind him advanced simultaneously, forming a single entity, like a slowly tightening net, surrounding the Swarm Prince in the center.

The Swarm Prince did not retreat.

It stood there, the Seven-Colored Sword spinning in its hand, like a dancer preparing for the next solo performance.

"Even if I die, the Hive will not disappear. It will find a new form, a new path. Smart Atoms have been integrated into our genes; they will become a part of us, nourishment for our future."

Titus swung his sword down.

"Then let your future die here too."

The Swarm Prince blocked the sword strike.

"Okay," it said.

Its sound was very soft, like the sound of wind coming from a very far place.

Blue-gold light and dark green halo collided, intertwined, and separated continuously in that burning void.

The figure of the Swarm Prince faded and became more blurred in that light, like a cloud being blown away by the wind.