The Tyranids, one of the Imperium's enemies.
No one knows which galaxy they came from. All anyone knows is that they are cosmic locusts.
They devour world after world rich with life, until entire star systems become dead zones.
And just because the word "bug" is used in their name does not mean they are stupid—that is a dangerously wrong assumption.
On the contrary, this species is cunning and highly intelligent.
They can tear enemies apart with their claws, and they can also use bio-weapons for ranged fire.
Their invasions often begin with a vanguard: countless warrior-organisms and void-darkening bio-ships, a tide that drowns and consumes everything.
They do one thing, endlessly.
They consume all organic matter, reproduce—reproduce again—reproduce without stop—and continuously refine themselves to counter whatever resistance they encounter.
And among the Tyranids, Genestealers are a special breed.
They are the kind of enemy whose cunning makes your skin crawl. Their mission is infiltration—slipping into human society and quietly growing their own numbers.
Their method of reproduction is to implant their genetic material into other living beings, using the host body as a vehicle for propagation.
After infection, victims are wholly dominated by the newborn Genestealer's telepathic signal, reduced to puppets—traitors to their own kind.
Those Genestealer traits are then inherited through the victim's descendants, creating hybrid offspring that remain completely under the founding Genestealer's control.
These malformed descendants, after five generations, will also produce a new generation of purestrain offspring.
P1, the "Patriarch," is treated as the initial infected source. After that come five generations: F1, F2, F3, F4, and finally the pureblood F5. Among them, P1 is still a controlled human, and both P1 and F4 can possess fully human appearances.
From F1 to F4, they gradually become more humanlike, while F5 shows a kind of atavism.
So once they reach the F4 generation, because their appearance is almost indistinguishable from baseline humans, it becomes easy for them to deceive others and blend into human society.
Within the Imperium, they will take on countless jobs—miners, demolition-clearing crews, dock loaders, slaughterhouse staff, PDF volunteers (Planetary Defence Force), and more—gradually replacing normal humans with cult members.
They are patient.
They are extremely cunning.
They will do everything possible to worm their way into every department of local institutions, spreading the poison of corruption into every critical organ, waiting for the right moment to ignite an uprising.
They will even build religions to lure locals into joining.
And the object of that "faith" is the Imperium's supreme ruler—the Emperor—using His name as a banner to recruit and expand.
That is why they are truly insidious.
The individual that attacked Kain just now was clearly either P1 or P2.
And with its appearance—paired with the elevator overhead, as if drenched by an enormous amount of blood—just how much slaughter did that imply?
It gave Kain a headache.
If this was the work of the "chicken thieves" (a pun-chain from "genestelares to "gene-thieves" to "hen-thieves"), then it meant they no longer needed to hide.
And that was a very big problem.
It meant an extremely bad possibility had appeared: a Hive Fleet was already on its way to this planet—perhaps close to arrival.
So the Genestealers were no longer concealing themselves. They were coming out into the open to trigger rebellion, throwing the entire planet into chaos, so the Hive Fleet could invade easily and consume the biomass of this world—perhaps even this entire star system—as food.
Kain could only hope things were not that bad.
Hm?
Very close now—the top of this elevator shaft was almost within reach.
But Kain's heart only grew heavier.
Like a slab of meat—if you want it to taste better, you pour sauce over it.
And the higher you go, the more sauce you get: wider coverage, thicker layers.
Whatever drips down below is only the leftovers.
And now, every wall of the elevator shaft—on all four sides—was coated in sticky liquid.
There was no way to tell what it was. Blood? Some other fluid?
It even felt as if he were entering the inside of a gigantic living creature—surrounded by the slick secretions coating internal organs.
He fired a grappling claw, anchoring himself to the underside of the elevator car.
Then, like planting C4, he fixed a melta warhead in place.
Swinging to one side, with a small sound—
A blinding flash vaporized the viscous surface and the metal itself, punching a hole straight through to the space above.
With one final swing, Kain hauled himself through the burned-through opening and into the elevator car.
And what filled his vision was even more nauseating, even more horrifying.
If a moment ago it had felt like a hallucination—like he was crawling inside some enormous organism—
Then what he saw now was almost not a hallucination at all.
…
Ruri Gokou felt like she was about to develop another lasting psychological shadow.
Even before he reached the top, the sticky, viscous coating on the surrounding surfaces had already screamed one truth: whatever was above would be even worse.
She was terrified.
She should have stopped watching.
But she couldn't.
A cat's curiosity dragged her onward.
The moment he swung himself through the blasted opening and entered the upper space—
In that instant, raw terror, shock, and nausea flooded Kuroneko's mind. She looked like the heroine in a horror film who had been scared stupid.
No—worse.
She had gone pale to the bone.
When she recovered a little, she knew she would probably be eating vegetarian for a while.
There were human limbs everywhere.
Chunks of flesh everywhere.
But unlike the situation below, these countless remains looked as if they were being digested.
Yes.
Digested.
Everything in sight looked like the inside of some monster's stomach. The "walls" seemed alive, as if they were writhing.
No—calling it a nest was more accurate.
Because there were eggs everywhere.
No, "eggs" was far too cute a word.
Call them larvae sacs—brood eggs.
Some were translucent, on the verge of hatching. You could see twisted, grotesque shapes inside, with partially insect-like structures.
Brood eggs of every size were scattered everywhere, absorbing the nutrient slurry produced from the liquefied human bodies, pulsing as they swelled and grew.
Kuroneko wanted to pass out—so she could wake from the nightmare and forget it all.
Ah—wait, straight ahead.
A colossal mining cart?
Just how big?
The rear bed alone looked twenty meters long and ten meters wide.
As the bed tipped and dumped its contents into the nest, Kuroneko's scalp went numb. She was going to throw up.
They were human corpses.
All of them.
Ah—some were still alive.
Still writhing.
And they were being poured in like feedstock—becoming nourishment for this place.
What kind of hell was his world?
It felt like even actual hell would weep in sympathy.
No.
She couldn't take it anymore.
Her stomach was rolling, her mouth couldn't hold it back—she had to go vomit.
And she needed to change her underwear.
(End of Chapter)
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