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Being comatose as the pod assisted in changing my body with whatever thing in my head was the idea. To not feel anything, to simply wake up and feel regret later. Learning what my new body could do and figuring out just how I was actually going to get Bioships from a sub-sector. An imperial-controlled one being attacked by the Black Legion and a lot of scattered vessels just floating about deep in space.

I could accurately describe what was really happening. I felt what could have been bone growing around my fingers, breaking through the tips to replace them. The same was happening likely happening to my toes but with fewer receptors than my hands had, so it was harder to tell. My skin felt as if it was being tightened and more restrictive as my organs and blood vessels strained against and threatened to burst. Like pulling hard on a plastic wrap over something and it compacted and squshed against the thin wrapping. The long thin breathing tubes in my nose seemed to expand and harden in my lungs, solidifying as something new was pumped into my gut. It filled my stomach and possibly bloated it into a beer belly. The slime or whatever it was, flowed through my digestive tract for a time and then settle. Then my insides seemed to raddle and shake as if all my internals were having a seizure collective as they were altered in some way. I always felt some kind of pain but it was muted in some way.

Whatever was attached to my brain was growing too as I felt it shift to remain on my grey matter while not forcing it to move. There was some greater change happening too but I couldn't tell then what. Not divert time to theory crafting. All over my arms, chest, and legs, I felt as if something was pressing up beneath the skin and soon bulged. It was like a blister forming, then it turned into a burning sensation when it seemed to sprout up and became my new skin. Patches at least all over my limbs and I could ascertain what it was for a while. Probably carapace armor, was my final conclusion after my head got a consensus done.

Was consensus even the right word? Could neurons reach anything like that or was it only ever a consensus with myself or some other word I didn't know.

I knew full well I should be screaming and thrashing about, yet another force was blocking that signal from truly entering my mind. I wasn't sure if I should be grateful or disturbed by it all, and never reach a consequence. My clouded head was still under the influence of the chemicals that were meant to make me sleep. Only that changes were registering well in my mind, from focusing on it too much or something making me feel the alterations I did not know.

Were these moments my body trying to tell me I needed to stop this? Or that Tyranid aspect just letting me know of what was happening. Letting me know that what I asked for was being fulfilled at that moment?

Just that every time there is a short period of pause where nothing seemed to happen. I 'blank out' and then it restarts. It took me a few of these to realize this process was taking a while and I received sensory information as they were happening but got used to it and went back to sleep. I asked for this and knew I wanted it, plus stopping now would definitely be fatal.

"I mean that... wouldn't be the worse thing to... happen." Just thinking that took considerable effort.

My body was paralyzed, like a patient whose anesthesia hadn't been applied we'll enough. Now I was up on the operating table and waiting for the doctor to just finish up. All I could do was wait for the next sleep. Wake up and feel my internals shift, consider what was happening and get back to sleep. I couldn't even imagine what was going on, chemicals and the changes getting too much. So now I was playing the waiting game...

It was during a change to my arm, where the muscles felt as if they were... Not increasing in number or size but I suppose strength? Did I think back to the Eldar woman whose arm I shot off and wonder briefly what that bastard Elor was doing now that he got his lady friend back...


When Elor first saw the burnt scar his wife Nueliu held his mind could never stray far from its image. The Hybrid Micheal swore he would keep it clean and asked how to do so but when Elor finally retrieved her from the claws of the Great Devourer. His first action was to take her to the nearest healer to check for any infections or any other long-lasting damage. He would not trust his own eyes to judge if the damage had healed properly. As it happened their Asuryani cousins provided one but it was more of a mandatory action and the healer themself didn't focus on the wound.

More checking to see if Nueliu was infested with the Tyranid taint like the Orks were. Elor's word meant little to their concerns, as he did flee with his guards rather than slay the Tyranid leader. It was not his primary concern and their failure to deal with it was their own but like everywhere in the past Warlock was not liked amongst his kin or cousins. It all began with his self-made decision to strike a bargain with the Hybrid and work with him to deal with the Orkiod threat. He knew reinforcements were coming and that the excuse to the king's court about losing as few Aeldari lives wasn't believed by anyone. He wanted to save Nueliu and everyone knew it, not that he would ever admit to placing his personal family over the safety of the Maiden World. They all would have done and same, they all lie about behaving differently or putting the many here over their own direct kin.

"Hypocrites all of them, the risk was worth the effort." The Orks were slaughtered and the Tyranids fled from the world with so few additional losses for them. "Now all that is needed is for them to realize Nueliu is untainted."

Their examinations were all done and their Pyskic tests competed and yet the Farseer merely said Elor was too bias. That more time was needed to see if she is infested with a new form of infestation from the Tyranids.

"As if he had any right to complain to me about bias." He thought angrily as he paced about his tent waiting for anyone to bring him news about his wife's release. He had to wait, attempting to force the matter could only end in the believing he could be tainted or thrown out of the Asuryani encampment. It was just outside the cave system his kin had taken cover in when the Orks invaded. So while it wasn't very far Elor despised the idea of being sent away from Nueliu so soon after being reunited. So he remained strong and used the patience he was taught to muster while on the path of the witch.

Soon enough he heard movement and sat down, not looking as if he was steadily losing his calm and the flap opened. In stepped the man who lead this force and Elor's primary benefactor. Farseer Tuirin Iuchean marched into Elor's living space with the same measured and confident steps only a Farseer could make. As if he was able to judge the exact movement that could convey his high station and just how he thought of you.

Elor needed someone who would assist him, one that would see the benefits of using the Tyranids before they became a threat. As a Warlock, he knew Tuirin would see. Yet these recent events have made Elor regret ever asking him for aid in exchange for retrieving his wife. The Tyranids were not rebuilding anything, Michael, words about leaving were true. For some reason, he needed to use an aircraft but fled he did. Elor knew the ambush was coming but could do nothing but complete the trade and flee.

"Nueliu is doing well," He began knowing Elor would accept no other start. "It seems the Devourer has truly taken no interest in her. Why we shall uncover soon."

"You agreed to release her the moment it was determined she was free of taint." Elor said firmly, trying to keep any of the bubbling anger within him.

Nevertheless, Tuirin saw through it all yet made no move to express anything beyond a slightly raised brow. "No, I said we were looking for taint and now shall uncover why the Great Devourer left her be for so long... You can visit her now, things have not improved for you."

"It would be better if she was allowed to return home."

"Have you truly glimpsed from his mind? In all the times you have been close to the Mon-keigh?"

"It was far more complicated than that." Michael's mind was simple enough to enter undetected but it was an avalanche of thoughts and sensations flowing in from all sides. Just how the Hybrid was able to form a coherent thought within it all was beyond him. Elor said as much when he first contacted the Seer and Tuirin refuses to leave things be.

"A Hybrid capable of any form of control such this is unprecedented." He looked resigned, a common sign that a Farseer has failed at some minor task and now seeks any means of remedying the situation. "This Hybrid must be eliminated to ensure it cannot become a greater threat. Are you certain there are no other details you recall? No insights that have resurfaced recently?"

"No, and the Tyranids are gone now. Fled into the stars and your objective to save this world competed and thusly your business here." He tried to remind Tuirin of his original purpose here. "Surely your efforts are better suited to dealing with far greater threats to the Aeldari. Rather than this poultry force of broken creatures."

"Do not presume to try and lecture me on where my duties lie!" The sudden outburst caught Elor off guard and he wished he never sat in the first place. "That creature, this Micheal is the greatest threat within this region of space. He has managed to remove the synaptic weakness, our greatest exploit from the play. Through some unknown and no doubt, permanent means and have them learn how to secure land and-!"

He sighed expression softening, settling down across from Elor, and relaxed his body to better explain things to his Exodite kin. "The Tyranid menace is a highly adaptable force, it is the threat's greatest strength. To learn and change themselves to better suit the moment but not the overall goal or stratagem... To consume and grow their numbers. Yet from this one's actions and behavior. From diplomacy to growing Greenskins into an army, and forming defensive bases wherever it could. Then there is its seeming willingness to leave the planet as soon as the Orks were dealt with. A willing I am certain was spurred on by your people's presence. Could it be this Splinterfleet's end goal was never to feed but to conquer and hold territory?"

"To what end would it do that?" Elor asked knowing much about the Great Devourer but certainly, less than the Farseer would. It seemed odd but that is what the Hybrid that controlled the force was doing. Taking locations and crafting fortifications to secure lands rather than consume them outright. It was eating the land but being careful in its expansions like an invading army should with so few resources and troops. And they seemed to be after that Ork Crusier just to get a ship to leave, why would they do that when the Greenskinns were defeated? They never even tried battling Elor's people.

A long pregnant pause followed as Tuirin slowly shook his head as if trying to force away some ailment. "... Many like to believe that Tyranid Hivefleets are ravenous beasts that only rush towards easy prey and do nothing but grow and evolve to do that again. That they are dangerous simply because of their mass and availability to adapt to circumstances."

The resigned look deepened and Elor suspected whatever revelation he was about to share came at a personal cost.

"They are not merely a menagerie of beasts, but a singular organism spread out amongst its endless numbers. Tyranid Hivefleets from every Gaunt to the gargantuan space fairing warships are all a part of a singular not collective intelligence. It is not as if they answer to the controlling mind but merely cells in its body. And with that, they all act in complete unison to reach peak efficiency and accomplish a goal with no arguments nor risks of sloppy work and have measures." The last part seemed to strike a ting of admiration by the Farseer, who no doubt had to work around such annoyances from time to time.

"I know all this," Elor interrupted, much to the naked annoyance of the Farseer. "There is little of this I could not hear from anyone on this world. What is the real purpose for this?"

"Learn the meaning of patience and manners and I shall reach that purpose." Tuirin kept his tone level and body maintaining the image that he was above such things as being filled with snark. Yet as always such things were still there and few but fellow Eldar that have walked the witch path could easily tell.

"Like any organism, they learn and I do not refer to the changing bodies to overpower localized resistance. But truly soak information into its intelligence and learn the best approach to a situation. It might do so slowly but eventually, one fragment can see the end results of their invasions as broken Hivefleets and barely surviving Splinterfleets floating about. Threats to be sure but ones that continue to be thawed before long. An entire Hivefleet currently battles an Ork empire and while it grows it is locked in an endless stalemate."

Elor had heard of Octavius War in his own research on this foe and the forces being thrown against the other in a seemingly endless struggle with neither giving much if anything. Both sides growing in strength and intensity but the conflict has stretched on with no end in sight.

"Many have tried to overwhelm then consume, the result of which has remained the same. Splinterfleets grow large enough to become a threat and even with the damage they cause are eventually dealt with. Perhaps this fleet seeks a different method, a new strategy that involves turning our weapons against one another not simply from planet to planet."

At once his concerns became clear to Elor and his expression hardened. "You are concerned that this particular Hivemind might be interested in seizing land and building an empire rather not for consumption. To create a force to take or crippled planets for their fleets?"

"When has there been any recorded instances of Tyranids negotiating? Even the Hybrids they raise on human worlds exist only to call for a fleet and sow discourse to create an ease of consumption." Tuirin leaned forwards as if they were master and apprentice where the former was about to impart some grand shed of wisdom.

"This force used steady expansion and careful consumption of the surrounding biomass, which was more than plentiful. It saw Orks not merely as an obstacle nor additional sustenance, but as a way to grow an armed force. It used a human to communicate and act as the conduit for the Hivemind. To behave not as the usual galactic perception but as a gracious host willing to aid in a mutual foe. Having us break the Orks at last and saving itself while asking for little. The tactics employed were conservative and an emphasis on ranged weaponry. They wanted to lose as few as possible any only truly risked the Ork Hybrids."

"He was oddly willing to deal with the Greenskins mostly alone, even when faced with annihilation he only asked for the bare minimum aid. Nor did he continue any hunt for our home, even if he certainly had a general sense as to the direction where we resided." Their world is the first place to experience Tyranids that communicate and use diplomatic avenues, take hostages and treat them well. Not infecting them with their taint. Only ever attempting to implant anything as a threat. The entire experience had thrown everyone on the court off balance for a time. No one knew what to do nor how to act with these creatures building a stronghold.

"Genestealer cults exist for one reason alone, to cripple a planet. Perhaps it simply never had the chance to leave much of anything here, besides their implanted Orks still growing where they visited and especially that spire where they landed."

"Perhaps this world lacked some requirements. If they had an Ork planet they could easily have them destroy one another with their taint and swarms. Then truly move their forces outwards from any strong points they formed and have the world handed over on the backs of their infected armies..." Elor could not complete that sentence, certainly, the Aeldari were far too intelligent to fall for some ploy such as this but Orks and the Mon-keigh...

"...Whole worlds could topple, slowly but surely. It would not be a quick conquest but once done they have armies of loyal Hybrids. With ships to turn at their former kin in other sectors. Planet after planet slowly falls until they are large enough to truly carve out an empire on the backs of their Hybrids. The true born extrasolar creatures only involved to decimate a particularly strong world or slowly seed more for industry, manpower, or resources..."

Slowly an idea of what the Tyranids could do with their Hybrid puppets slowly wormed into Elor's mind. A terrifying one indeed. "Expand the Hybrid menace beyond just weakening one world at a time but an entire section of the galaxy. As the Imperium or Ork empires fling their fleets and soldiers, not at the Tyranids but Hybrids now occupying worlds. With equipment better or matching theirs but with far more coordination and a complete lack of fear..." The words gave way as a clearer picture began to form within Elor's mind and Tuirin continued for him.

"...Then any Splinterfleets wondering about have their openings to rise and any new Hivefleets can further divide any attempts to resist. A long-term strategy but one that had merit if it works. To try and weaken the great powers of the region by forcing them to shed blood amongst themselves instead of against them. Leaving a nearly unattended banquet to feast upon..."

"...Otherwise why else would this Splinterfeet care for holding ground or growing a force through the Orks and not simply biomass for familiar forces."

"Indeed, it is quite heartening to see one who once walked the same path still retain their ability to connect with minds. Even centuries away." He nodded approvingly. "Yes, why would they express interesting in leaving this rich world if not because our presence complicates their ability to learn and perfect a strategy of conquest overconsumption." Tuirin head slowly turned up, so deep in a thought he likely had to grapple with for a time.

"Have you seen visions of this?"

"Hm?" He recentered his eyes on Elor and the two locked eyes only this time it felt mas if Tuirin was completely here this time.

"Are there any futures where anything of the sort truly comes to past?" Elor hadn't just left his Craftworld just for a simpler life. Although that was a factor, the branching nature of seeing the future made many behave in almost erratic ways.

Tuirin took no time in explaining himself, perhaps knowing Elor's reservations and looking to elevate them.

"I have seen a great fleet, nothing too menacing nor concerning as dozens before. I have seen the people feel its shadow and rejoice at the coming, their defensive ship shielding the fleet as it feeds. The populous nearest to the tendril throw themselves into pools of digestive acids. Filled with joy at becoming one with their masters. The land withers and dies... Then the fleet is satisfied and leaves the majority of the planet unscathed. The people are saddened to see their Gods leave before going back to beat plates of armor or forge weapons of war. There are always more planets to bring into the fold. Soon all of the sectors do little than build armies and fuel the next Splinter fleet until it finds a conquered world to consume and grow." His gaze seemed to drift away, almost distance.

"Now it is a Hivefleet, and it, like many before shall now go and feed once more after its recent defeat. The defenders of the sector they failed to consume properly are known and they know how to defeat them so the war is short and strips the planet dry. With that they continue on and if a failure occurs only a handful are needed to start this new cycle and the consumption of the defender who defeated them is assured at the later date. They will always have somewhere to retreat to and beings who assist in or outright take a world to regrow any fleet from near death."

He bore teeth, a determined look from the Farseer, and even Elor was caught off guard by the anger behind the look. "I shall not allow this to occur, not while I draw breath and hold a war host and ships at my beck and call. This is why I ask you this one final time, do you know of anything that could aid my efforts?"

At first, Elor had presumed this desire to wipe out the Tyranids to simply be influenced by the Seer's Craftworld of origin. Lyanden was once a mighty vessel with people to share but a war with a Tyranid Hivefleet broke and nearly destroyed them. It was only a vast alliance of other Craftworlds and the timely intervention of the Drukhari that had saved them. It was foolish to think simple animosity was the answer as the Farseer just explained the threat. He too would have been at the ambush last night if there want any concerns about them detecting his Psychic presence either. So Elor deeply considered every encounter with the Hybrid Michael and found his tongue quite stilled. There was nothing new for Tuirin, no insights into this threat.

Well other than the Hybrid Absalom.

"Micheal seemed to care greatly for one of its own, to what end I do not know but I am certain that it was sincere." Or perhaps it was just a ploy to leave them believing they too had a hostage. "No... His feelings for that Absalom is sincere. I am certain of it"

"I see... a theory to test later." Tuirin stood allowing the concerns he once expressed to fall away as if sand drifted off his clothing. "Nueliu is no prisoner, but I shall confirm or deny my suspicions before completely releasing her. I must know this threat to completely eradicate it and any information in doing so is invaluable."

Elor didn't fully agree with his reasoning but didn't understand his position somewhat. He made it clear to Tuirin that he would be bringing this matter to her family and any other who would hear.

"I know, no secret is safe in the presence of a Farseer." With that he stood and left, there was a Tyranid vessel to hunt down and destroy.

Before the future he witnessed had a chance to be cemented...


My awakening was probably similar to how it's shown in movies. My body twitched as I wore off the paralysis and my eyes shot open to darkness and the vicious fluids inside. The pod opened and dumped it out, light flooded in and I took a long moment getting the tubes out. The girthy feeding one was simple enough to slide out from the stomach and throat. The ones that fed oxygen to me took a few yanks before I could dislodge them from my lungs, they weren't anchored like before but still weakly held on. A few tugs and were taken off and slid out of my nasal cavity.

Once out of the pod and into the light I... Diverted my mind to uncover what changes had occurred to my body. I was of course lacking any clothing and now purple carapace plates. It looked how any armor would look on a human but these were attached to my body. Not simply covering my skin which had taken that grey leathery complexion as my cheek and near had. Now covering any u armored part of my body, specifically the joins and sides of my abdomen to leave my movement unrestricted. Some plates, like the ones over my hips, were only attached at the waist and seemed to grow out and over. Not on top of the skin completely, it was the same over my crotch and I checked, there was still a pair of genitals down there. I was grateful to have them covered by something and not completely removed. I may not have had an interest in reproduction and cursing kids with the Genestealer genes likely in my system. But I had to pee sometimes... and find something to cover my butt because that was totally uncovered.

My hands were clawed now, not pointed nails but the entire tips looked to be replaced by hardened bone. They did have a fine point and were basically just Genestealer's claws and I knew how dangerous those were. The surrounding flesh on my hands took on a more brownish look than the rest of me, losing that gradually as my gaze went past the wrists. The hardened skin was not carapace but tough enough in between to help when I inevitably had to plunge my hand into someone's armored chest. It was a similar story with my feet, clawed tips, and brownish skin disappearing as one went up the ankles.

I rubbed my hands together the stacked plates over my chest and stomach to get a feel for them. No sensations came from the carapace when I scratched them. That made sense as they were supposed to be hit, don't want it sensitive to harm. A hand drew over my head and I was not surprised to have none of my curly hair there, I figured it would be gone. Tyranids didn't have hair and when my cheek was shot no facial hair grew where the Tyranid skin formed. I finally stood, body waved about for a second as I needed to get used to these changes, and took careful steps around the slime-coated floor. It didn't take long for me to properly orient my steps until it was just one foot after the other and I decided to just keep doing that while Norma brought a reflective surface as I willed.

Rubbing the back of my head to feel no scar tissue bulging there. In fact, now that I had a hand back there I could feel my skin sort of bulging backwards as a later generation of a Genestealer Hybrid's would. Likely to acomodate whatever was stuck back there.

I sighed, more to force an exhale a breathe I had just sucked in to hold at that revelation.

"This is what needed to happen, I would need to test my strength and agility in the coming days. Learn what I could do and maybe speak with a few Armsmen on hand-to-hand combat. If they knew any..." I quick telepathic linking showed me that they did and were more than willing to aid their Great Carrier. "Good, armor and strength are all but useless unless I know how to use it effectivly."

It didn't take much longer for Norma to arrive and hand over one of the Armsmen helmets. The visor on the thing was the best thing to a mirror we had here. So I peered into it and could barely make anything out but it was enough to just confirm what I already suspected. It was just my face but with that grey leathery skin, no hair, and the same red eyes but everything else was the same.

"Only made up of Tyranid flesh instead of human..."

"You look well Great Carrier," Norma said with full sincerity. "Truly you have taken on the image of our lords perfectly!"

Yet as I looked up to regard her smile and pleased look I couldn't bring myself to openly disagree. I held the visage of a monster now, a self-aware one at that. The bigger question I didn't want to ever answer was.

Would I ever have to act like one too?