PS----
I put this in the wrong volume qwq, so I can only write a side story to replace this part.
This goddamn volume system.
Ever since the Tyranids' forward foothold, the Ancient Ship, had been smashed to pulp, the Tyranids throughout the galaxy had lost their signal.
But the Tyranids were an adaptive warrior race. Losing contact with the Hive Mind did not throw them into chaos.
And so, specially adapted Tyranids were hatched. These Tyranids possessed minds of their own, rather than being weapons of war bound by all sorts of restrictions.
Among these special Tyranids was one such being, "Little Tower."
Azte II was facing an assault by the Black Legion, and the Astra Militarum stationed there were fighting desperately to hold them off.
Little Tower silently smoked a cigarette held in his claws, gazing grimly at the distant Chaos army. Even from that far away, he could hear their blasphemous howls.
"Looks like I'm actually going to die alongside a Cadian today," Little Tower said.
Beside him came the metallic voice of a Necron.
"I never thought I'd die alongside someone from Catachan either," Little Card said.
Little Card straightened his skin. It had gotten a little wrinkled, which made him uncomfortable.
The bug and the tin skull quietly readied their lasguns. Just then, the roar of Astra Militarum artillery came from behind them.
In the distance, the Chaos Cultists were blown apart by Basilisks, but these beings blessed by the Chaos Gods forced their way through the barrage and charged.
"Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!"
Bloodmark, a cultist with Khorne's eight-pointed mark carved into his head, charged forward with a frenzied howl and leaped straight into the trench.
Only to find himself engulfed by an enormous shadow.
What stood