A.N.: ORKS ORKS ORKS ORKS. I love my little green psychopaths, although would be horrified to find myself in front of one. Chapter 20, that's a big number, wow. Thank you all so much for the support, it means the world to me that people enjoy this fic as much as they do! With all that said, onto the chapter!


"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" The bellowed scream echoed through the ork ship as a massive tentacle pierced its ramshackle walls, the crushing hundreds of gretchins and dozens of orks in a single instant. Hundreds more rushed at the massive protrusion of flesh, wielding a variety of choppas as they quickly began cutting at the tentacle, eager screams intensifying as tyranid creatures began pouring down the tentacle like ants on a vine. Ork boyz found themselves engaged in brutal melee as thousands of hormagaunts and termagaunts surged into the vessel, claws clashing against choppas as slugs whizzed past borer beetles. Before long warriors joined the melee, directing the smaller gaunts into devastating assaults; Upon realizing the bugs were much harder to put down than normal on accounts of their ridiculous regenerative capacities, burna boyz were brought to the front of the melee by the ship's captain, who soon lost patience of piloting the ship and threw himself into the fight with a cheer; Leaving a group of incompetent grots to try and steer the massive wheel which directed the ship one way or the other.

One small issue soon became apparent. The wheel had been reinforced to survive the strength of the ork captain.

No amount of grots would make it move.

Not two minutes later, the ork ship rammed into a tyranid cruiser too slow to avoid it, and the fight escalated several degrees of insanity.

At the same time, an ork kruiser unleashed its entire payload into a massive tyranid battleship only to find itself swallowed whole by the monstrous biovessel. A new battle found itself taking place in its gargantuan stomachs, between the orks aboard and the ship's digestive acids combined with its immune response composed of millions of rippers. Surprisingly enough, the orks put up a good fight, having the time of their life as they tore apart swarms of rippers with the same eagerness the snake-like worms devoured their flesh.

A thousand ork ships fought against thousands of tyranid vessels; the space above the planet was a mass of debris, ships ramming into each other and fighting in the melee that only these two species could truly master in the void of space, bombarding each other with the most esoteric of projectiles as billions of creatures formed millions of boarding crews fizzing through the dark space towards the opponent's ships. It was a chaotic nightmare as tyranid and ork tore into each other with the ferocity of wild animals rendered berserk by each other's presence.

On *Da Bestest Of Dem All*, the massive kruiser serving as a flagship for one of the numerous warbands gathered under the leadership of the warboss leading the Waagh, the fighting had reached a peak of violence as it had gotten entangled with one of the larger tyranid ships. Swarms of carnifexes trampled through its halls, lead by hive-tyrants directing them with an expertise that rendered them into a deadly hammer crashing through the ork forces. Tyranoffexes fired into killer kans as deff dred's battled the crushing hordes; Cutting through chitin and burning at the regenerating flesh with improvised burnas.

A pack of a dozen carnifexes found themselves stampeded to death in turn as the ork handlers unleashed a massive squiggoth into their own corridors, bellowing in laughter from the top of it as it rampaged onwards, killing orks and tyranids indiscriminately. It was only the combined firepower of tens of exocrines bombarding it continuously as it trampled a hive tyrant to death that finally brought it down. Those very exocrines were soon slaughtered by the flood of boyz that descended from the downed beast, screaming as they beat the much larger creatures to death through sheer numbers and ferocity.

Needless to say, for someone who had only recently been assimilated into the tyranid Hive and had yet to experience a fight of this level of intensity, it was all a bit overwhelming.

"WHAT KIND OF FUCKING MANIACS RAM A TYRANID HIVE SHIP?!" She screamed angrily as yet another killa-kruiser slammed into one of her beloved tyranid carriers. The strategy that had worked so well against the Imperial fleet and doctrine found itself utterly helpless when faced with the sheer unrelenting, suicidal even, ferocity of the ork attacks, it had found a strange counter. For any other foe, this strategy would never be employed at the risk of crippling your fleet permanently and leaving you immensely exposed in the long term.

No one must have informed the orks then. She'd fought orks before, but never had she faced herself with an actual full scale Waagh. She'd heard horror stories of such events; planets ruined, sectors devastated, tens if not hundreds of billions dead. She'd never thought she'd find herself at the front line of such an event.

And yet, below the anger, below the frustration, there was also a gnawing feeling. A deep, unrelenting hunger that saw this new arrival not as some inconvenience in her calculations, but an opportunity. To learn, to feed. To devour. To consume. Her lips pulled into a snarl as the carrier vessel blew up in a spectacular shower of explosions.

She was still thinking like a human. Like a strategy would work against multiple opponents, so long as she mastered it well enough. She could remake the ships! She could recraft to adapt, remake to exploit vulnerabilities. She grit her teeth, closing her eyes as she plunged deeper into the Hive Mind.

She would not fail her Amica.

"*Smith.*" She called after some reflection. "*I'm going to need your troops. You're on boarding duty.*" She did not need to explain the plan to him. Nor did he need to explain to the troops under his command. They knew. They all knew. The moment she had finished forming the idea and decided on it it had been transmitted throughout the entire fleet.

As one, Hive Fleet Tarrasque moved.


For Gitzok, his day had started good, and had quickly escalated into being great. First, they'd gotten into a bit of a warm-up scrap with some of them weird bird-boyz in da warp; It had been fun, but there hadn't been enough of them to go around so only a few boyz had gotten to have a good fight. Then, they'd arrived at the planet they'd been heading to, and the sky was literally swarming with tyranids. What an amazing sight it had been. A right propa enemy, the bugz were! Sometimes a bit too sneaky and cunning for his taste, but most of the time you could get a scrap against some truly amazing fighters. Plus monsters. Lots and lots of big, nasty monsters.

The bigger scrap it seemed was happening in space for now, from what he'd heard. It sucked, seeing as how he was on the ground, but there were still plenty of bugs to go around. He laughed as he grabbed the arm of a hormagaunt and ripped it off, watching in fascination as the wound was already closing.

"Dem' gits are tough!" He grunted, slashing down with his choppa and cleaving the head of the gaunt off. The creature fell limply to the ground right as three more jumped his buddy and tore into him with vicious intent. All around him was a massive melee of gaunts and boyz, each taking a toll on the other as they fought. A flash of light blinded him for a second before a loud clonking of metal made him cheer as a large mekboy appeared in the middle of the fight, a massive power claw crushing two gaunts in its pincers effortlessly as alien blood poured on the ground. The rest of the mob, encouraged by the sight of the large ork, cheered and hooted, screaming as they descended on the tyranids with increased frenzy. Soon enough the last of the tyranids was dead, the mob cheering triumphantly as it held up the beheaded trophies they'd gathered.

The mek boi was already ignoring the remains of the battle, angrily muttering about the lack of mechanical parts in the tyranid species, grabbing a few corpses no doubt intending on trying to find applications for them.

"Oi! Is dere humies on dis planet?" One of the other boyz asked. The mek grunted.

"Yea you git, why'd you think dem bugz are here?" The boi nodded.

"Explainz da small humie running towards us. Not sure about da running towardz uz tho." Gitzok growled, slapping the other boi above the head.

"Shut it ya git! Small humies are like grotz, dey always run away!" The other boi did not smack him back. He was the bigger of the two after all.

"But...look! Dey right there!" The mek turned, facing where the boi was pointing.

There was, in fact, a small humie running towards them. It had white hair and was wearing what seemed to be some kind of armour made of the same metallic chitin the bugz were wearing.

"Wot..." Another boi asked, confused. Gitzok shrugged, before pulling his slugga out and shooting.

The slug bounced off the armour.

Not fake. Huh.

"Oi, what'z dis one doin?" There was general confusion in the orks as the small human got closer and closer to them, running full sprint.

"Ey...isn't dat one a bit fast for a humie?" Another boi nodded.

"Humies aren't tha..." His words were interrupted as the humie leaped in the air, somersaulting before landing in the middle of the ork mob, to their utter confusion.

"HI!" It shouted, a wild smile on its face. It seemed to be almost vibrating with excitement. "MY NAME IS..." The mekboi slammed his powerclaw down onto the suicidal humie.

It shattered against an invisible shield. Gitzok's eyes widened.

"WEIRDBOI!" The humie scoffed angrily.

"I'M A GIRL!" With that, it slammed its fist upwards, smashing the mekboi's metallic jaw. The ork, more than twice the size of the girl and easily ten times her weight, was sent flying upwards a solid twelve metres before smashing into the ground. The other orks stared, stunned. Then, in raucous cheer, they ran towards her with their choppas out.

"WAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

"THAT'S MORE LIKE IT!" She screamed back, opening her arms wide as in the distance, millions of tyranid organisms flooded the open plains of the world. "BRING IT ON!"


"BOSS!" The cry made him growl in annoyance as he squeezed his massive power claw, crushing the tyranid warrior in it into pulp.

"WADYA WANT NOW YA GIT?!" He screamed into the face of his subordinate. Despite the terrible noise around them, he still managed to be heard.

"DEY'Z A SMALL HUMIE FOIGHTING WITH DEM BUGS! DEY AINT EVEN TOUCHIN' EM!"

"WHADA LOAD OF SQUID CRAP!" He bellowed, whirling around and firing his double big shoota into the charging carnifex. The entire magazine was enough to cripple the creature full of holes, leaving it exposed to the power claw uppercut piercing its head. He cast the body aside, his mega armour stomping it dead. "DEREZ HUMIES ERE ALROIGHT, BUT DA BUGZ KEEP GETTING THEM FIRST!" Not that that was a big problem to him. Some humies were amazing to fight; ol'bale eye was one such foe after all. But as a rule, the bugz were far more likely to give you one hell of a fight.

"IZ NOT A NORMAL SMOL HUMIE THO!" The boi screamed back. He would give the boi some credit, this one had some courage. "IZ A WEIRDBOI! AND IT PUNCHES DEAD'ARD!" The warboss' eyes narrowed, looking at the boi.

"ALROIGHT. TAKE ME TO DAT WEIRDBOY. IF THEY'RE A GOOD FIGHT, MAYBE YOU'LL GET SOME GOOD LOOT. IF NOT, I'M FEEDING YOU TO ONE OF THEM BIG SNAKEY THINGS." The boi for the first time gulped. Even orks were capable of feeling fear. It was just a lot harder to inflict on them.


The world of Concorsus had turned into a massive battlefield.

Billions of ork boyz charged across torn up landscapes, fields stomped under foot and burned by the acidic smokes of poorly assembled engines pushing truks to the front of the battles. Looted tanks and ramshackle vehicles charged forth into vast swathes of tyranid organisms, often finding themselves confronted by beasts just as large as them if not bigger as the larger war organisms of the Hive took to the field in an ever escalating conflict. What would have surprised even the most experienced of Imperial Guard tactician was the sheer speed with which the conflict escalated. What usually took days to happen, such as waves of gaunts being supplemented by heavy contingents of carnifexes, exocrines and tyrannofexes had happened in a matter of an hour as the Hive Fleet responded hyper aggressively to the immense assault from the greenskins. The later had no sense of restraint, no desire to keep their troops in reserve, instead sending almost every single one of themselves into battle as immense engines of war were being built by the various mekboys and grots that remained near the crashed roks and killa-kruisers smashed into the ground of the world. The skies were choke full of harpies, gargoyles, hive crones and massive swarms of spore mines fighting the vast fleets of ork bombas and fightas. On the various battlefields, dying to a fallen piece of debris of choked by a rain of flesh and bioacid was becoming a painfully common event. Waves of flesh and chitin slammed into the ork mobs as gaunts sought to overwhelm the orks with sheer numbers, finding themselves with an enemy that could almost meet their numbers one on one.

What was once the peaceful village of Homunis was crushed under the treads of a massive grot mega tank, the fortress sized vehicle firing a shell that tore an entire pack of exocrines and their accompanying biovores into bloody chunks. The tank was immediately beset by a group of warriors meticulously targeting its weak points, finding themselves overwhelmed in turn by a swarm of killa kans following the super-heavy tank. The appearance of such a vehicle would have been enough to raise the alarm in an Imperial command, showing the Waagh had escalated to a dangerous degree before even arriving on the world. To the tyranids, the appearance of multiple super heavy vehicles, the sheer power of the foe they faced and the sights caught by many organisms of immense, towering piles of scraps shaped into the vague form of a stumpy ork was enough to trigger the signals dedicated to escalation.

Pods of flesh descended upon the world, carrying some of the greatest entities the Hive was willing to dedicate to warfare as the massive metallic idols of war rumbled to life.

Across the world, titans awakened.


Anya was having the time of her life.

She wasn't sure why she kept her small human form as she fought the multitude of orks that converged to her, as if attracted magnetically to her. She swatted them aside with her powers, lifting vehicles and crushing them in a shower of burning debris, only for the orks to cheer louder and charge her all the more ferociously. It was insanity; Never before had she seen an enemy that not only enjoyed fighting her, but also saw the death of its fellow warrior as nothing but good news; Demonstrating her strength and power to them. She laughed with joy as she jumped in the air, slamming down with psychic power in a powerful shockwave of gore and dust, reaching out with her hand.

"TYRANIC BOMBARDMENT!" Hundreds of psychic arrows descended on the incoming horde, each detonating a small group of orks. Thousands laid dead by the end of the attack. A massive chunk in the mob assaulting her.

More kept coming.

A killa kan swung its buzzsaw near her, shattering against her psychic shield. She lifted a hand, sending it flying into the air.

"TYRANIC…"

"OIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" She froze as the bellow reached her. The sound had been enough to briefly stun her, overwhelming her senses. She slowly turned, the killa kan still floating mid air. The orks had stopped streaming towards her, instead walking backwards as they looked to the new arrival.

The ork was massive. A solid thirteen feet of pure muscle, metallic armour of surprisingly well welded scrap linked together with weirdly complex machinery, a claw that looked like it could snap Anya in half with nothing but a twitch and a massive gun on his hand. "YOU! WEIRDBOY!"

"I'M A GIRL!" She screamed back. The ork seemed surprised she answered back.

"WEIRDGIRL!" Apparently he was rolling with it. "YOU BEEN KILLING ME BOYZ?! YOU LOOKING FOR A SCRAP?!"

"YES!" She yelled, raising her hands in the air, spreading her arms as the killa kan floating above was ripped in half, a shower of gore and metal falling around her. "YOU LOT ARE THE MOST FUN I'VE HAD SINCE OCC!" The warboss seemed once again caught flat footed, eyes narrowing at her.

"OI…YOUZ A BIT OF A WEIRD HUMIE." She grinned.

"I'm not human. Not really. Not fully." She shrugged. "It's a long story."

"YAPPING. GOCHA." The ork nodded. "ALROIGHT, A SCRAP YOU WANT, A SCRAP YOU'LL GET!" She grinned wildly, her hair floating around her as her sharp teeth were revealed.

"Finally, someone who GETS IT!" She yelled. "BUT I WANT TO RELISH THIS!" With that, she grabbed an ork boy corpse, biting into it. She felt the biomass immediately be digested and assimilated, as she began devouring more and more orks. The boss, surprisingly, let her do so without interference, watching in fascination as the small human child eagerly devoured his boyz.

"Um…boss…shouldn't you, like…kill'em?"

"SHUT YA TRAP. I WANNA SEE WHAT HAPPENS." Anya felt her body reach the appropriate amount of biomass. Bones grew. Chitinous armour expanded. Muscles contracted, doubled over as she grew taller and taller. By the end of the process, she still was towered over by the ork, but now stood at a respectable eleven feet tall, in her full tyranid war form, her crystalline halberd forming from her hand. "OOOOH…DAT'S A NEAT TRICK!" The ork cheered.

"Thank you for waiting! Now…fight me!" She screamed, charging at him. The ork bellowed a laugh as he charged forward with surprising speed, both of them slamming into each other with such strength the very air trembled around them. Her halberd clashed with the ork's power claw. In the distance, the crashed remains of a stompa detonated as a dimachaeron tore it open and slashed its power generator. To her amazement, she found herself actually almost immediately overwhelmed. The sheer utter power behind the ork's strike sent her off balance, and only her insane speed and reflexes allowed her to avoid the blast of bullets from the strange ramshackle weapons the ork used. She jumped back to avoid the power claw slam, only to propel herself forward on impact and stab her halberd into the ork. She found it deflected by the ork, the creature's nimbleness belied by its immense bulk. She twisted her weapon, trying to make the ork stumble.

It did not budge. Instead, the claw managed to grab her halberd, lifting her up and slamming her down. She bit down a cry of shock as her legs shook from the sheer impact. She was taking this the wrong way. She couldn't overpower the massive green creature, not without using her powers. But to do so would be…boring. Too easy. It was one thing to send thousands of enemies flying, another to find one who could not only keep up with her but give her a proper challenge.

She dashed to the side, tearing her halberd from the claw with a sudden tug. She swung it, as if she was going to slam it to the side of the ork, only to use her own control of her body to force her arms to twist in an unnatural fashion; forming a new elbow in a second and stabbing the spear into the ork's armour. She could tell from how he moved he hadn't been fooled by her feint, but of all the things he'd expected, it hadn't been that. The armour gave way easily to her blade, stabbing into the flesh but before she could inflict a great wound she was forced back by an aggressive power claw swing. The ork stared her down, before looking at its wound. It then looked back at her.

"Oi." It spoke, surprisingly calm. "Why you not using yer weirdness?"

"My…my weirdness?" She asked, stabbing her halberd into the ground. "Hey I thought you didn't want to talk! We were fighting!"

"Dat thing you lot do with yer brainz. Weird stuff."

"Oh. Well…" She grinned. "It felt boring to just kill you with my mind. I wanted to…" She shrugged. "I dunno. Feel the fight? Actually feel it in my bones, in my blood…" She shivered. "The rush of the fight, the feeling, am I going to die? Am I going to lose? That desperate moment when you overcome yourself, pass your limits, grow stronger and stronger through hardship…" She closed her eyes. "There can be no growth without conflict. And I am not done growing." The ork stared at her for a long moment.

"...Yer a weird humie." He eventually stated. "But I think I likez ya. It'll feel great to beat ya to pieces." Her grin returned, growing wider.

"Now that's more like it!" She pulled out her halberd, pointing it at the ork. "But first. What's your name?"

"Ya can call me Ravmasha." The ork grunted. "Now. FIGHTIN TIME!" Anya yelled out in excitement, nimbly dodging out of the massive power claw as she deftly examined the orks movement. Trying to find a chink in the armour, a failure in the defense. Nothing came to her mind. The form was not perfect, but it was more than she could handle. She did have one advantage however. Speed.

She danced around the ork, fluidly striking, poking, hitting in various spots, always out of reach, always out of range only to rush back in and clash once more with the ork, compensating for her lesser strength with the sheer amount of blows she would rain down on him.

At some point, she overcommitted and the ork managed to rip one of her arms off. Blood and flesh splattered on the ground as she screamed, only to laugh as the wound closed itself and a new arm began growing rapidly from the stump.

"OH, NOW I'M REALLY FEELING IT! I FEEL ALIVE!"

"SHUT YET TRAP AND FOIGHT!" The ork yelled, but he seemed excited as well. "DIS IS A BLOODY GUD SCRAP, GIT!"

"I'M GOING TO RIP YOUR GUTS OUT ORK!"

"IMMA STRING YER 'EAD ON ME POINTY STICK!"

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"


Footsteps that shook the earth. A cry that echoed through the night, loud enough to make the windows of the few houses still standing vibrate. Spires of flesh and chitin that rose high in the air only to come crashing back down with immense metallic blades cutting up the ground and any that had the misfortune to be under them as they descended. In the flash of explosions and bioluminescence, the shape of the creature could be seen profiling against the immense amounts of dust and smoke kicked up by the hours of fighting; An immense, arachnid-like monster that surpassed the tallest buildings of this planet in height, its spine contorted into an arc that brought its head down to the ground. Four spindly legs carried it forth, with two further limbs extending from its torso in massive bio-cannons. One of those fired, an ork battlefortress detonating in a shower of sparks, metal and bio-plasma as its deadly projectile impacted it. The other showered a mob of fleeing orks with a similar attack, what was not instantly vaporized turned into a thin vapor of flesh and blood.

Around the creature, serving to obscure it even more, was a heavy cloud of spores and virulent microorganisms that attacked anything getting close viciously. Ork boyz brave enough to try and confront the creature would choke and spurt blood before getting within fifty metres of the colossus; truks would drive wildly out of control as their pilots died from the ravages the microorganisms did to their internal structure, often flying into other vehicles. Grots would be turned into a thin soup if they got close.

One of its legs came crashing down on a paralyzed looted tank, spearing it with the massive blade that was found at the end of each leg with as much effort as one would to crush a bug. The maw of the beast opened, a torrent of bio-plasma vomiting out of and onto the fleeing ork rabble, turning hundreds into little more than gooey puddles on the ground for the rippers to feast on. Ork vehicles fired upon it with frenzy, most of the projectiles missing wildly and those that did hit finding themselves stopped by the creature's warp field. One of the few attacks that did make it through the powerful psychic field, a missile fired from a ramshackle truk, found itself utterly unable to pierce the massive chitinous plating protecting most of the creature's form.

It towered over all others on the battlefield; even the mighty tyrannofex seemed small compared to the massive tyranid organism.

It was a nightmare given flesh. Hunger given form. An irresistible force of destruction, created for the sole purpose of bulldozing any opposition to the Hive.

Of all its nightmarish attributes however, one stood above all as the culmination of its horrifying properties.

A second roar joined the first. Then a third, a fourth, until the air was completely saturated by vociferous screaming. A stompa found itself bombarded into slag before it could even engage the field. Another was rammed to the ground, a second tyranid bio-titan stomping it until it blew up.

The Hierophant bio-titan. Known for moving in packs counting upwards of dozens of individuals. This pack was no exception.

In the distance, a roar of engine managed to make itself heard above the cacophony of screaming, catching the attention of the bioengineered giants.

Six gargants strode from the horizon, eagerly rushing towards the frey. It was not often they got to face opponents their own size, and the ork brutish fight instincts remained the same no matter how big the vehicle they drove.

Gargants were the ultimate manifestation of the ork Waaagh spirit. Towering constructions of steel and scrap in the vague form of an ork, surpassing even the mighty stompa in size reaching upwards of a hundred metres in height, if not taller for some mega-gargants.

The hierophant, in comparison, drew at the tallest point of its spine at seventy metres tall. They were still similar in size however due to the hierophant's hunched posture, and the earth shook as the titans drew into battle formation. Immense in scale and brutal power they were, the hierophants were far from stupid. In fact, their sheer scale forced them to work closely within the synaptic web in order to avoid them causing immense damage to the other tyranid troops by accident, the Hive Mind having evolved them to be remarkably intelligent and adapted to serve as synaptic links in the larger web. This helped them generate their defensive psychic shields.

The first gargant was submitted to a mind boggling amount of firepower as each and every hierophant fired upon it at once. Powerful a gargant might be, and resilient too, even it could not survive the firepower of twenty six other titans focused on it. The other gargants blasted back with their many soopas, immense automatic weapons that cribbled the hierophant's shields and strained them to the breaking point. One hierophant was unable to defend itself from the onslaught, another quickly stepping before it as it started taking damage to shield it with its own field as the rest of them fired upon the next gargant; Picking off the ork titans one by one.

This battle of giants was not taking place in an empty field; for dozens of kilometres all around massive armies accompanying the titans of war engaged each other, with the hopes of overwhelming the other and slaughtering whatever escort the titans had gathered. Each shared the same intent, the same rage, the same desire to kill. One for the sheer fun of it. One to satisfy its unending hunger.

The skies tore open as a creature of similar size to the hierophants descended from the skies; a Harridan, followed by three other of its kind, immense winged titans carrying thousands of gargoyles and dozens of harpies each. They quickly batted away the ork air presence in the area, allowing the tyranid army to enjoy having their air creatures bombard and suppress the ork advance, tilting the battle in the tyranids favor. The harridans, rather than stay to help, returned above the cloud layer, joining the flight of dozens of harridans heading for the next battlefield. Coordinated by the synaptic network, they went from battle to battle, imposing overwhelming force on strained ork air forces and depriving the foe of this most important of advantages.

On many other battlefields however, the story was much different. Ork mobs overwhelmed in sheer numbers the tyranid synaptic creatures, turning the coordinated gaunt hordes into frenzied but disorganized packs of wild animals that made for easy pickings for ork vehicles and nobz, the larger support creatures finding themselves unsupported and ripped apart through weight of numbers and fire.

From above, the world that had once been vibrant green seemed to be torn between shades of grey and black scarred with streaks of red and bright yellow flashes as war engulfed the entire planet. The space around was no better as the fleets continued to tear themselves apart. Jane's plan was coming into full effect, thousands of specialized boarding crafts whizzing through the empty space and hitting many ork capital ships, flooding them with the newly crafted hybrid tyranids.

No matter what the outcome was, one thing was for certain.

This planet was doomed.


"Genestealers. How…interesting." The Inquisitor whispered, bringing his hands under his chin. "And you say this one simply died before it could give any useful information? How convenient for our foe." Harrison did not show any annoyance at the Inquistor's words. The man constantly tried to get a rise out of them, to crack their facades, to make them do a mistake or say the wrong thing. It was part of their training supposedly.

"I'm suspecting the patriarch might have killed them using the link to them."

"Implying there is a patriarch. Troubling. Almost as troubling as these reports I have recently received." A data slate slid his way. Harrison took some time to read it, only to grow pale.

"Is…is this accurate?"

"Yes. Very."

"Emperor preserve us…this is ridiculous! And you're saying more orks are on the way?"

"Indeed. They're attracted to the fight like moths to a flame. And while the fight is so far more or less equal, if Octarius has taught us anything its that prolonged fighting between those two species will result in a very, very bad situation no matter who wins. I am currently attempting to authorize an exterminatus." Harrison didn't even argue this. The information there was enough for him to consider this a reasonable option. "However, we are stretched thin as is, and the slaughter of the closest Imperial Guard regiment and massacre of a templar crusade has left the local sub sector painfully undefended. Although I hear a massive sororitas contingent is about to arrive." The Inquisitor shrugged. "As to whether that is a good or bad thing…well. Who knows. Our concern is here however."

"So. What is our plan of operation sir?" The Inquisitor smirked.

"Well it seems quite obvious. We could do the usual strategy of systematic extermination until the court is forced to reveal itself… or more subtle work. I prefer the latter personally." He chuckled. "I want you all to come down into the Underhive and find our more about this cult's little obsession with our white haired friend."

"Anya." Harrison whispered.

"Correct. Occ has already been down there for some time finding individuals and establishing a network, you can use his groundwork to assist in your task."

"Understood sir. We're leaving now."


Ayna was having a shit day.

It had started off so well. An undefended feudal world, ripe for the harvest, to be devoured within a matter of a few days at most. Her sister had insisted on being there on the ground, but well honestly this was tame for her big sister.

And then the orks had arrived.

And then her sister had gone berserk. To the point her sheer joy and battle lust had been transmitted to the entire rest of the fleet, forcing further heightened aggression in the organisms of the Tarrasque. Even the tendril of Leviathan had been affected, having been assigned to their network. Ayna herself could feel those waves of battle frenzy through her, and could only stop it from influencing her through experience, willpower and sheer utter annoyance.

An ork yelled out as it ran at her, Ayna giving the greenskin an annoyed look before stabbing her bonesword through his skull. In the background, her massive swarm of tyranid warriors crushed the ork mob like one big meat grinder. Carnifexes smashed into tanks, haruspices devoured killa-kans whole and devouring them with loud crunching bites. They were taking horrific casualties, but the biomass gained through the war was more than enough to not only compensate for the losses but also allow the Hive to continuously grow. Overall, this war was a net positive for the Tarrasque, and she should be feeling overjoyed at this chance to gain an immense amount of biomass willingly throwing itself at them.

But for one, orks were not easy prey. Secondly, it was undoing so much progress she'd done with her sister in calming her down, making her more reasonable, only to see her throw herself at the biggest ork warboss she could find and fight them without even using her powers!

Ayna's rage manifested in a shockwave of psychic power, pulverizing the nearest orks. A weirdboy not too far from her screamed, falling to the ground as their head exploded. She grunted in annoyance, some of her rage now dissipated.

Calm. She had to remain calm.

Her hand gripped her bonesword.

Kill.

Eat.

Devour.
Consume.

Repeat.

The tyranid way.

She repeated the mantra, entering a trance like state as she methodically cut a bloody path into the ork army, leading a gigantic swarm towards the nearest ork base and workshop, aiming to cut down the production of ork vehicles at the source.

Kill the industrial base. Even the orks could not properly conduct war without at least some bases of industry.

Then she would find her sister and bring her back to reason.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

She would try at least.


"Amica." Smith said, his voice a soft caress in each and every hybrid's mind. "Has chosen us to ascend. To become more than we ever were. Showing us the light of the Hive, the embrace of the Tarrasque. To accept the truth of the Galaxy. Conflict without end until one comes on top. It is our task to ensure this is the Tyranid species. Our species." The ships of flesh pulsated around them as they sailed through the empty void of space. "We owe her everything. And so we shall see all her foes defeated and consumed." The hybrids closed their eyes, feeling their new bodies shift and move. Reserves of biomass ready to be unleashed for additional mutations and unleash devastating adaptations on the spot. Concentrated cocktails of hormones, adrenaline and other more dangerous substances that if used in excess would render them dead within less than an hour. Not that it mattered to them. Through ascension they had been granted immortality. So long as the Hive survived, so would they.

The first boarding ship slammed into an ork kruiser, to the cheers of the orks inside. A mob immediately swarmed the point of impact, eagerly awaiting for the tyranids to begin swarming out.

A dozen hybrids emerged, eliciting some confusion from the orks. These looked like a smaller, humanoid version of tyranid warriors, standing at two and a half metres tall, covered in armoured chitin. Each had six arms, the biological weaponry connected varying from individual to individual. Nine of them had a combination of twin-linked devourers, rending claws and a pair of boneswords. Two of them had a single pair of arms, covered in strange spines sending psychic lighting to each other, their eyes glowing with subtle power. The last stood taller than the rest, with six arms holding scything talons, rending claws, a bonesword and a lashing whip. All of them seemed to be almost twitching as they descended from the pod, the ork mob quickly charging towards them with eager hooting and hollering.

In the blink of an eye, half the mob was torn apart from the overcharged devourers tearing through them, the venom cannon firing far faster than should have been possible as it carved a bloody trail through the mob. The orks barely had time to understand what was happening before the hybrids were upon them, moving with impossible speed as they tore, rended and broke apart the ork bodies. The orks were far from harmless; Choppas swinging and sluggas firing. But to them, the hybrids moved as if in fast motion, impossible to land a proper hit on and fighting with such frenzied fury and relentless aggression it made the regular boyz pause and hesitate. In a matter of seconds the ork mob was wiped out as more and more tyranid hybrid boarding ships rammed the ork fleet, unleashing their drugged up, hyper enhanced hybrid cargo. The slaughter began in earnest as they joined in the existing tyranid forces, giving them a much needed boost as they served the role of shock troop and line breakers, allowing the Hive to spare its larger monsters usually dedicated for such roles and concentrate them into more focused thrusts on the more dangerous elements of the ork army, such as the mighty Squiggoths or the battle fortresses and stompas that roamed the larger vessels.

More disturbing for the orks however were the hybrids covered in spikes. Not only did these prove to be deadly efficient psykers, they focused most of their powers into two aspects. One was empowering the other hybrids, increasing their speed and reflexes to incredible levels that made them little more than blurs to the average ork boy, casting small psychic barriers that would protect them for a few hits before they started taking damage, where the Tarrasque's trademark regeneration would kick into play, making taking down even one of the hybrids as much of a pain as taking down a light vehicle, only worse due to their small profile and ridiculous speed.

Their second characteristic was what made them truly efficient however. Each of them seemed to project an incredibly focused version of the Shadow in the Warp around them, localized entirely around them and bounced off every hybrid nearby. This wasn't quite effective after a few hundred metres, but on the frontline of the battle it had a terrible effect. Not only did it amplify the fear and discomfort of the orks, but it even seemed to interfere with the very ork gestalt energy; Making the weapons in their hands more likely to malfunction or cease functioning. At higher concentration, ork paint seemed to lose some of its effects, although the more orks present the more such hybrids were required to maintain the effect.

Soon enough, many of the orks vessels found themselves drifting in the empty void of space, their occupants devoured and consumed.


Jane felt her halberd pierce deep into the ork's skin. Finally, an actual deep wound. She laughed as she twirled back, her halberd pointed at the panting ork.

"HA! Point for me!" The ork let out a grunt, shaking himself off.

"YA GOT LUCKY, YA BUGGY GIT!" Despite the angered words, she could see the sparkle in the ork's eyes. He was having as much fun as she was. "NOW LET'Z SEE WOT UZ' THINK OF DIS!" He pulled out a massive gun strapped to his back, pointing it at her. She narrowed her eyes, prepared to dodge the attack...

Only to feel something appear inside of her. Her eyes widened as blood spurted from her mouth, the foreign object having completely replaced very important parts of her organs and completely bypassed her defenses. Worse, she could feel the thing was alive.

Thankfully, her tyranid biology immediately went into hyperdrive, converting parts of her blood into potent acid to melt down the offending intruder into liquid good as her insides began regenerating. Even for her however, such extensive injuries would take some time to heal.

"Did you..." She gasped, side stepping as the ork, giving her no reprieve, slammed his power claw where she'd been. "Did you just teleport a tiny ork inside of me?!"

"IZ NOT AN ORK! DATS A SNOTLING!" The ork cheerfully corrected her. "AND YES, I DIDZ."

"YOU FUCKER!" She screamed, struggling to dodge the attacks as a power claw ripped through her armour like tissue paper, cutting at her midsection a deep gash. "THAT'S GOING TO TAKE ME LIKE, TEN SOLID MINUTES TO REGENERATE!"

"YOUZ GETTING SLOW BUGGY!" She snarled as she was forced to hold her halberd up against the slam down from the ork, feeling her arms strain to their breaking point. "DIS WAS A GUD FOIGHT BUGGY! WAS WORTH COMING 'ERE FOR!" The ork bellowed a laugh. "BUT GREEN IZ BEST!" Her mind raced. She could always use her powers, but it would feel like admitting defeat. Better die and be reborn in the ships than that; She still had her pride damn it! Giving up was not an option either. She would fight until her last breath, until...

She frowned.

Something felt wrong. She could feel a mind. It was well occulted, well defended, but she'd gotten a lot of experience recently, and they were very very close. What really confused her was the mind did not feel tyranid. It did not feel ork, or even human.

It felt...she'd never felt something like that.

Something pierced her side. Her eyes snapped wide open.

She hadn't even felt the hostile intent. More projectiles came to join the first, the ork roaring in outrage at the interference.

"OI!" He screamed, turning around. "I TOLD YA GITZ, DAT ONE'Z..."

"Is coming with us." The words were said with deadly calm as the eldar materialized, floating midair a dozen metres from the fight, a squad of rangers with their weapons aimed squarely at Anya appearing with her. "Thank you for your help."

The world erupted in eldritch lightning as all around them, thousands of eldars appeared as if from nowhere, slaughtering the orks before they could even react. The lightning struck the ork away from her, Anya immediately calling upon her own powers to try and fight back against the eldar. She was injured, unfocused and the farseer was strong.

Worse, she wasn't alone. In the blink of an eye, a dozen more farseers appeared around her. Anya had never encountered an eldar before, but the knowledge flooding through the Hive was enough to tell her this was very, very bad. At her best she would struggle to take so many on.

The crushing weight of psychic energy was enough to make her own powers buckle and break, her shield bursting like a popped bubble. She fell to her knees under the sheer torrent of power being sent her way, feeling her mind strain as the Hive Mind attempted to fuel with enough power to hold them back; But even this was proving counter-productive, as her extremely weakened body began straining under the conflicting energies assailing her. She screamed as her soul was burned by the eldar fires, by the Hive-Mind's howls of possessiveness. She lashed out, managing to catch one of the farseers off guard and sending them crashing into the ground with a satisfying crack of bones. She wasn't sure if she'd killed them, but before she could ensure the kill the assault on her redoubled, forcing her back on the defensive.

"BIG SISTER!" Ayna's voice came to her, panicked. "HOLD ON, I'M ON MY WAY!"

"She will not reach you in time." The farseer's blank voice answered, Anya's thoughts growing more frenzied. How did she hear that?!

"You..." Anya struggled to say through gritted teeth. "How...here..." The eldar did not answer, instead raising a hand towards her, the powers assailing Anya intensifying. Then, something pierced through her armour, digging into her skin. Fifty aspect warriors were surrounding her now, each opening fire on her. She tried to hold the projectiles at bay, but there were too many, and along with trying to defend herself from the farseers, it proved too much. Her powers stuttered as her body was torn open in a hundred places, giving the farseers the opening they were looking for.

Everything went dark.


"Ylsen." The farseer in training waited for the fire prism next to him to finish firing into the approaching carnifex, turning it into a pile of ashes in a single shot.

"I'm listening." He answered.

"Package secured. Primary objective accomplished. What is your opinion on secondary objectives?" Ylsen glanced at his tactical display. The entire tyranid portion of the forces present on the planet had entered a complete and utter frenzy, throwing themselves at the orks with unprecedented ferocity as a massive portion of their forces were converging towards the perimeter he and his troops had established in a matter of minutes to allow the farseers to do their job undisturbed. The fire prism battery opened fire once more, this time supported by shuriken cannons and hundreds of aspect warriors. The enemy forces had yet to so much as get in range of them, but it was clear how things would go if this went on.

"Untenable. Unless we bring the entire craftworld and the fleet here, there is no chance of eliminating the tyranid and ork presence from this world. Even then, I would put the risks of further forces interfering as too high to make it worth it."

"Agreed. We are pulling back. Casualties?" The distant roar of a hierophant titan was silenced as the imposing silhouette of a phantom titan fired its two pulsars over the horizon, hitting a target not even visible from here.

"None so far."

"Excellent. We are leaving. Head to the webway gates." Ylsen nodded to himself.

"Understood farseer." He transmitted his words to all members of the strike force. "Back to the webway gate, orderly! You know your tasks."

As one, the eldar retreated from the world, an immense swarm of tyranid hot on their heels.

Ayna screamed, psychic energy radiating from her like a miniature sun. Incandescent rage manifested into pure power, incinerating any ork and tyranid unfortunate enough to be close to her. She couldn't care less.

Her connection to her sister was broken. She couldn't feel Anya anymore.

"Ayna what's going on?!" Jane called out, panicked. "Why can't I feel Amica anymore?!"

"FUCKING ELDAR!" Ayna screamed, echoed through a billion raging minds. "THEY TOOK HER!"

"What?! How is...eldar, here?! There were no ships!"

"WEBWAY GATES, IT HAS TO BE! WHY CAN'T I FEEL HER?! SHE..." Ayna's powers shut off as she fell to the ground, shock twisting her expression. A swarm of warriors rushed forth to protect her, fighting the now regrouped orks. "She can't...no, she can't be dead. They might...they might be able to cut off her access to the Hive, but they can't block her soul from returning to us."

"What do we do?" Jane asked, uncertainty painfully clear in her voice.

"...all Anya has to do to return to us is find a way to end her own life. She can do that by simply shutting down her own body. For now, we will finish the war." Ayna said, returning to her feet.

"So we just...leave her in their hands?!" Jane asked, indignant. The admiral immediately regretted her words at the sheer torrent of fury that came through the Hive Network in response.

"YOU THINK I LIKE IT?! WE HAVE NO WAY OF GETTING TO THEM! THEY SHUT DOWN THE GATES! THEY COULD BE ANYWHERE IN THE GALAXY BY NOW, AND WE CAN'T EVEN SENSE WHERE SHE IS!" Ayna stayed silent, calming herself down. "No. For now, all we can do is finish the fight here. She will return to us of her own accord. If not, we will find her."

"...Understood. Then..." Jane's eyes widened as scouting ships at the edge of the system suddenly sent her new information. "Ayna?"

"What."

"An Imperial fleet just appeared in the system. It's a big one."

"As if we needed any more trouble...any idea what faction?" Jane closed her eyes, watching the information streaming from the scout ships before they were blasted to pieces by macro cannons.

"Sororitas."

"...Fuck."

This really was the absolute worst day for Ayna.


Arrives on your planet.

Beats the hell out of your troops.

Beats the hell out of your opponent.

Beats you up and kidnaps you.

Leaves as if never there.