The Hive Mind's cold, vast network of thought spun at high speed.
It had launched countless probing attacks against that incomprehensible, impenetrable energy shield, and every result pointed to the same cold conclusion: with its current evolutionary forms and methods of attack, it could not shake it in the slightest. Conventional long-range firepower was like scratching an itch, while boarding tactics—the swarm's most adept and most relied-upon method of close-range destruction—had become outright suicide.
When dense clouds of Tyranid drop pods and assault spores crashed toward the Hilling Empire ships' shields, which rippled like water, they were not met by decks to board, but instant, utter Oblivion.
There were no explosions, no collisions—only disintegration and vaporization the moment they touched the shields, without even a trace of residue left behind.
No matter how many organisms were committed, no matter how heavy their carapaces or how bizarre their forms, the result never changed.
The Hilling Empire warships stood immovable amid the ocean of Tyranids, like divine fortresses protected by an absolute domain.
Some Imperium of Man warship commanders who witnessed this, driven by gratitude and instinct, attempted to maneuver their battered vessels bravely in front of the Hilling Fleet, hoping to use their own hulls to block the Tyranid boarding forces rushing toward the silver fleet.
Yet when their ships came within a certain distance of the Hilling Fleet, they too were gently pushed away by a soft but irresistible invisible force field. They could not truly approach at all.
This force was not an attack. It was more like the natural rejection of an absolute domain.
The Hive Mind's "logic" suffered another crushing blow.
Attacks were ineffective. Boarding was ineffective. Interference was ineffective.
This newly appeared force, bearing the Crystal Cross emblem, possessed technology far beyond its comprehension, forming an