In Chozo lore, the deceased are considered dangerous entities. While regarded as loved ones, they are appreciated at arms reach, almost like untrained pets. This is because spirits are unrestrained by social norms and practices, free to exist as authentically as they wish. They are emotional, unpredictable beings. And their terrible gluttony must be appeased with rituals and sacrifices.
Samus had witnessed these rituals in her childhood on Zebes. The Chozo, masters of science and technology, donned elegant vestments adorned with massive feathers and armor and paints. They danced and sang, offered up burnt sacrifices, engaged in ceremonial tests of strength. From looking at them, no one would have guessed elders like Old Bird or Grey Voice could move the way they did. It was extraordinary.
Several times, Samus joined in; despite her mutant physique, the teenager lacked the stamina and coordination to keep up with the Chozo's complex dances. The exhausting festivities went on throughout the night, filling Chozodia with noise to satisfy the dead. Samus still missed those nights. She was always happy to help appease the passed.
On the flip side, Samus had been on the receiving end of this posthumous fury once before. The Chozo spirits on Tallon IV, driven mad by "the Great Poison", pursued her relentlessly. She fought them off over and over as they viciously protected their sacred sites. Even the Pirates respectfully avoided such areas, ignorant of the cultural significance but clearly getting the message to back off.
In the end, it was Samus' collection of their Tallon artifacts that won the trust of the spirits. She was spared. But their rage persisted, striking down Ridley for desecrating their temple and sending him careening into an abyss.
With the Chozo's numbers dwindling so severely (even rumored to be extinct), Samus wondered what was now happening to their passionate dead. Who continued the rituals? Were they offended by the lack of offerings? Or was the whole religion a farce, and none of it mattered?
Often, she felt guilty for not carrying on the traditions herself. She could barely remember the words to their prayers, and she didn't own any particular religious heirlooms. Her fight with the Pirates on Zebes had annihilated the planet and all its artifacts; she was unworthy to glean any souvenirs from Tallon or other colonies.
Her existence actively twisted the legacy of the Chozo. Everyone knew about "the human in Chozo armor", but those who remembered the race themselves were fading fast. Part of Samus always prayed that other Chozo factions still lingered in the darkest corners of the galaxy, continuing those ceremonies. Maybe they could pick up her slack. Maybe they could love those ghosts how she couldn't...
Now, Samus drove her claw into the eye of the helmet, bursting it into silver shrapnel. Energy coursed through her veins like magma, boiling up to her giant eyes. A rush.
Raven Beak kicked, he pushed, he fired his cannon - his hand even lingered at her throat, squeezing back - but Samus would not be deterred. He let out an agonized wail, flailing desperately to dissuade his own prize, but Samus clung on. As if possessed, she pulled him down, kicked at his chest, dancing around him like the horrible parasite she had become.
Yes, dancing. Unconsciously, she was remembering the steps, recalling the ritual she'd failed so many times before. She may have lacked their feathers, their beaks, their talons, but she knew their steps. And although Raven Beak was an uncooperative partner, she forced him to move. He was integral to the ceremony.
Finally, she pushed down. Raven Beak fell to the floor, Samus mounted atop his chest.
Samus realized she had been screaming the whole time; she tasted blood. The Itorash was hurtling toward the surface of ZDR; her stomach lurched. Her armor had evolved into a green chitin; her bones surged. She resembled the Chozo "Ultimate Warrior" more than ever.
And while the dance was over, the penance wasn't. Her claws lingered over Raven Beak's eye, sapping his life force as long as possible. She would not let go of this burnt offering. Never.
And Samus felt it. She felt the rage of hundreds of Chozo voices, crying out together with her own. She felt their pleas for justice, their righteous indignation, their fearsome battlecries - the betrayed on Zebes, the corrupted on Tallon, the slaughtered Thoha, even the manipulated Mawkin. They burned at her fingertips. They pushed her forwards, downwards, crushing the skull of this vile dictator, Ashkar Behek.
He would know their wrath, unfettered and raw.