Initial binding protocol activated. Scanning for high-value targets available for interaction... Scan complete! Three nearby high-quality (?) interaction targets have been selected for you: [Option A: Pure Chaos Cultist] [Target]: Guard captain corrupted by Khorne's whispers (male) [Tags]: #[Hot-blooded idiot]#, #[Muscle worship]#, #[Irritable]# [Initial affection]: -30 (regards you as a weakling who needs testing) [Conquest hint]: Fight him in glorious combat and survive! Blood and skulls make the best gifts! [Danger rating]: ★★★★☆ [Option B: Tsundere sister of the Adeptus Mechanicus] [Target]: Tech-Priest apprentice stranded here by an experimental accident (female, 60% mechanized) [Tags]: #[Says one thing, means another]#, #[Machine fanatic]#, #[Lonely]# [Initial affection]: -10 (regards you as an inefficient organism) [Conquest hint]: Offer rare mechanical parts or ancient technological data! Praise the Omnissiah! [Danger rating]: ★★★☆☆ [Option C: Taciturn Tyranid unit] [Target]: Tyranid Warrior hatched prematurely due to a spore mutation, carrying anomalous data (sex?) [Tags]: #[Emotionless, speechless, expressionless]#, #[Hunting instinct]#, #[???]# [Initial affection]: -50 (regards you as edible biomass) [Conquest hint]: Survive and demonstrate your "special value." Tyranid logic takes patience to decipher~ [Danger rating]: ★★★★★
The options hovered before his eyes like the selection screen of a cheap porn game, complete with flashing heart effects.
Lynn's brain froze for half a second.
Then the soul of the former Warhammer enthusiast and galgame player erupted into a furious rant:
"Tzeentch! This is absolutely that scruffy bird Tzeentch's sick idea of fun!
What the hell is 'Even in the 41st Millennium, I Want to Fall in Love!'? And a trial version, at that!
And every Warhammer enthusiast knows that if you transmigrate into Warhammer World,
finding out you have a system is absolutely not a good thing. It might well be Tzeentch's doing!"
The Genestealer mutants had closed to within three meters, their foul stench hitting him in the face.
Lynn had no choice but to trust the system.
But the three options were a Khorne lunatic, a Tech-priest girl, and an outright Tyranid!
What kind of hell-difficulty galgame was this?!
Reason frantically battered Lynn's brain.
Choose the Khorne lunatic? Certain death. That guy will hack you up as a sacrifice.
Choose the Adeptus Mechanicus girl? She might report you, an "inefficient organism," straight to the Inquisition.
Tyranids? Tyranids!
His gaming experience from his previous life surfaced in his mind. Before Tyranid units fully synchronized with the Hive Mind, there was an extremely brief "window of opportunity."
Examples included psychic interference, genetic contamination, or, as the panel described it, "hatched prematurely due to a spore mutation, carrying anomalous data."
In theory, that was the only moment when communication was possible.
Besides, of the distances displayed on the panel, the Tyranid unit was closest to him.
It was right in the shadows at the end of this dead end. If he chose either of the other two, they would only arrive in time to collect his corpse.
More importantly, the Warhammer enthusiast's morbid curiosity whispered like a daemon:
"Romance a Tyranid? That's such a fucking unorthodox route.
But I really want to see what happens!
I'm dead either way, so I might as well have some fun with it!"
There was no time left. The mutant had already raised its claws.
"I choose C! Bind the Tyranid unit!" Lynn practically roared.
The system's electronic voice was infuriatingly cheerful. "Contract established~ Enjoy your time with your 'sweet burden'~ Mwah!"
The next second, purple light erupted from Lynn's eyes.
No, it surged from the depths of his soul, forming several translucent psychic chains covered in bizarre runes that shot deep into the shadows at the end of the dead end.
A piercing screech, filled with pain and fury, came from the shadows.
That sound belonged to no human or known animal.
It was a mixture of multiple noises: carapace scraping, bones twisting, and biomass being forcibly torn apart.
Mixed into it was an even higher-frequency scream, almost on a psychic level.
Rusted pipes and heaps of scrap were knocked aside by tremendous force.
A vicious-looking figure roughly three meters tall was forcibly "dragged" out of hiding.
Psychic chains wound around her limbs and torso, biting into the seams of her carapace with a teeth-grating scrape.
Lynn finally got a clear look at his "bound partner."
A Tyranid Warrior!
The chitinous carapace covering her entire body was dark purple, with a biometallic sheen.
Four thick, reverse-jointed lower limbs supported her streamlined torso.
Her forelimbs were a pair of enormous scythe-shaped bone blades, their serrated edges dripping acidic slime.
Her head was relatively small but covered in compound eyes. Every eye spot was now fixed on Lynn, their scarlet glow almost tangible.
Her mouthparts opened and closed in three sections, revealing layer upon layer of sharp teeth.
But she was not in perfect condition.
There was a shocking wound at the joint of her third left limb.
It was neither a tear nor a puncture wound, but crystallization.
Purple, translucent crystals grew from cracks in her carapace, eating into the surrounding tissue like malignant tumors.
Faint light flowed within the crystals, seemingly in some kind of conflict with her biomass.
The tissue around the wound showed a mixture of necrosis and abnormal growth.
Was this the source of the "anomalous data"? Some kind of genetic contamination?
Bound by the psychic chains, the Tyranid Warrior struggled frantically.
Her bone blades struck the chains, spraying psychic sparks, but the chains did not budge.
She let out a furious screech at Lynn, its meaning unmistakable.
I will tear you apart, devour you, and erase your genetic data completely.
At that moment, the two Genestealer mutants froze as well.
They could recognize that this was a higher-tier Tyranid unit.
Tyranid Warriors were basic nodes of the Tyranids' ground forces, their combat power far beyond that of hybrid mutants like them.
But the Tyranid Warrior's condition was clearly abnormal. Not only was there no signal of synchronization with the Hive Mind,
something strange also seemed to have occupied her mental system.
More importantly, she carried "contamination." She was a heretic who had to be purged!
The mutants' simple minds reached a conclusion: prioritize dealing with the anomalous unit and reclaim its biomass.
They abandoned Lynn and lunged at the Tyranid Warrior instead.
The system displayed a notification: [The first forced "interaction" begins! Please provide your bound partner with her first "assistance"! QTE (quick-time event) triggered!]
Three options popped up before his eyes:
[① Throw a stun grenade (if available)] [② Shout directions] [③ Attempt psychic encouragement (high risk)]
Where would Lynn get a grenade? Option ① grayed out.
Option ③? He knew nothing about psychic powers. Forcing an attempt would most likely cause a backlash or attract something worse.
Only ② remained.
"The one on the left! The seam in its carapace! Three inches below its neck!"
Lynn shouted with all his strength, drawing on his Warhammer knowledge to point out the mutant's weakness.
The Tyranid Warrior paid no attention to his shouting.
The instant the mutants pounced, she unleashed terrifying strength and forcibly snapped two psychic chains.
The system warned: [Warning! Bound partner is resisting violently!].
Her bone blades swept out. The battle was a complete slaughter.
The first mutant tried to block with its bone claws, but the Tyranid Warrior's bone blade severed its arm like a hot knife through butter, then continued on to split its skull.
Green blood and brain matter splattered. The second mutant pounced from the side and bit at her flank, but her carapace stopped its sharp teeth.
The Tyranid Warrior thrust her other bone blade backward, piercing the mutant's chest and pinning it to the wall.
Then she gave it a savage twist, and the mutant's innards burst out through its back.
The entire process took less than two seconds. The two mutants became shattered chunks of meat.
But Lynn noticed one detail: when the Tyranid Warrior attacked, her body would stiffen unnaturally for an extremely brief moment.
About 0.2 seconds, as though an invisible force had forcibly stopped her.
The system was forcing her to "listen" to commands, even if she refused to carry them out.
Although several psychic chains had snapped, their afterimages still wound around her, restraining this vicious beast like reins.
The battle ended.
The water purification pool fell deathly silent, with only the sounds of dripping slime and slowly writhing biomass.
Standing amid the pool of blood and severed limbs, the Tyranid Warrior slowly turned around.
Her four reverse-jointed lower limbs moved in alternation, her carapace scraping with faint clicks.
Its compound eyes locked onto Lynn again.
There was not the slightest gratitude in that gaze, only cold, affronted killing intent.
And a trace of confusion?
She could feel some kind of "protocol" forcibly linking her to this weak creature, violating every one of her instincts.
The Hive Mind had taught her that all non-Tyranid life was biomass, and all anomalies had to be purged.
But now she herself had become an "anomaly," while this creature that should have been food had become the "protocol-bound party."
She took a step forward.
Lynn backed away until his back pressed against the iron door rusted shut. There was nowhere left to retreat.
She screeched, her three-part mouth opening, digestive acid dripping between her fangs and corroding small pits in the floor.
Her bone blade rose and pointed at Lynn's throat.