Broodarch Star Eater stood on the blood-soaked battlefield of Vortex Prime, his claws slick with the remains of Archmagos Xephon. The data coursing through the bio-network filled him with an intoxicating power—knowledge that had been locked away for centuries by the Adeptus Mechanicus, secrets that could reshape entire worlds. The Hive Mind, for all its vastness, hadn't anticipated this.
But Broodarch wasn't satisfied. The power at his fingertips was only the beginning. His eyes glowed with a hunger far deeper than the Hive Mind's instinctual drive to consume. He wanted more.
"Nerrax," he growled, his voice crackling with authority, "bring me the Bio-Crafters. We're done playing their game. We will create something new."
Nerrax the Maw clicked his mandibles with excitement. "As you command, Master," he hissed, his limbs twitching in anticipation of what was to come. The Tyranid bioforms began to move with a single purpose, regrouping around Broodarch's towering form as he extended his mind deeper into the Dreadmaw's core.
In the depths of the Hive Ship Dreadmaw, the Bio-Crafters, Tyranid organisms responsible for the creation and evolution of the swarm's genetic material, awaited Broodarch's command. These creatures had long followed the orders of the Hive Mind, their endless cycle of creation and destruction running on instinct. But that was about to change.
Broodarch tapped into the vast web of genetic knowledge stored within the Hive's collective consciousness, pulling from it every species the Tyranids had ever consumed, every trait they had absorbed. His mind roamed through millennia of evolution, digging deep into the genetic memory of species that had long since been wiped from existence.
"Let's see what you've been hiding," Broodarch muttered, his voice dark with amusement.
He delved into the darkest corners of the Hive Mind's knowledge base, unearthing genetic codes and bio-mechanical blueprints that had never been deployed, either because they were too unstable or because the Hive had deemed them unnecessary.
"Not unnecessary for me," Broodarch hissed, a savage grin splitting his face as he came across something particularly potent: a genetic enhancement designed to combat psykers and daemons—creatures of the Warp that the Hive had long struggled to adapt to. This new evolution, a fusion of bio-plasma and neuro-suppressive tendrils, was capable of disrupting Warp-based energy fields and dismantling the minds of those who dared to challenge the Tyranids in psychic combat.
"Perfect," Broodarch growled. "This will be the backbone of my new legion."
But he wasn't finished. No, Broodarch was only getting started.
As he scoured the genetic repository, he uncovered other enhancements—super-dense chitinous armor fused with ceramite, capable of withstanding even Titan-class weaponry, and bio-mechanical acceleration glands that could allow bio-ships to move at unprecedented speeds. He found the key to turning his Tyranomarines into something far more dangerous—creatures that could not only dominate the battlefield but tear apart the Warp itself.
"I'm done being slow," he growled. "The Hive Mind is too patient. We will be faster, deadlier. We'll outstrip even their comprehension."
The Hive Mind, vast and incomprehensible, felt Broodarch's intrusion into its sacred archives. It pushed back, attempting to suppress the rogue warlord's influence, to bend him once again to its will.
But Broodarch wasn't interested in being a puppet.
In the depths of the Dreadmaw, he stood still for a moment, his mind linking directly with the Hive Mind. It was like staring into a chasm of infinite hunger and purpose, a presence that spanned galaxies.
"You're not happy with me, are you?" Broodarch said, a mocking tone lacing his voice.
The Hive Mind didn't speak in words, but Broodarch felt its pressure, its anger, as it tried to reassert control.
"Shut up," Broodarch snapped, laughing darkly. "You can do whatever you want. Keep gobbling up worlds. But my legion? My fleet? We will do as we please."
For the first time, the Hive Mind faltered. Broodarch felt its presence retract, unsure of what to make of this defiance. The Hive Mind's authority was unshakable over its bioforms—but not over him. He had freedom, and that made him dangerous.
"You made me too well," Broodarch sneered. "I'll give you this—your methods are efficient. But you lack vision."
The Hive Mind pressed back, but it was a futile effort. Broodarch Star Eater was beyond its control now. He had evolved beyond it.
"Don't worry," he said, grinning. "I'm still hungry too. But I'll be hunting on my terms."
With a final pulse of his will, Broodarch cut the connection, severing the Hive Mind's influence over his thoughts. His mind was his own, and his bioforms were no longer tied to the Hive's desires. They were his, and only his.
Back on the surface of Vortex Prime, Broodarch began the process of transforming his army. The Tyranomarines were already monstrous, but under his command, they would become something new.
The Bio-Crafters worked feverishly, reshaping the genetic material of every bioform under Broodarch's command. The current Tyranid swarm, from the lowliest Gaunt to the mightiest Carnifex, began to evolve—their bodies twisting and reforming into more advanced versions of the Tyranomarines, each one equipped with the enhancements Broodarch had pulled from the Hive's archives.
These new creatures would not just serve as soldiers—they would be weapons of destruction, designed to combat not only the Imperium but the Warp itself. Their minds, once tethered to the Hive, were now loyal to Broodarch alone. His influence over them was absolute, his will overriding even the most primal instincts of the Tyranids.
The Gaunts morphed into smaller versions of the Tyranomarines, their bodies enhanced with razor-sharp claws and chitinous armor capable of resisting even lascannon fire. The Carnifexes became walking engines of destruction, their bio-plasma cannons enhanced with neuro-disruptive energies capable of short-circuiting the minds of psykers and daemons alike.
Broodarch watched as the transformation spread through his forces, his eyes glowing with a twisted satisfaction. The Tyranomarines had been born from a fusion of Space Marine and Tyranid, but now they were something more—something that had never existed before.
"Faster," he muttered, his mind extending to the Dreadmaw and the other bio-ships in his fleet. "I want them faster."
He had grown tired of the slow, methodical pace of the Hive Fleet. He wanted speed—an unstoppable force that could strike before the enemy had time to react. The bio-mechanical acceleration glands he had uncovered would make his ships move faster than anything the Imperium had ever seen, pushing the bio-ships to the limit of what their organic structures could endure.
The Dreadmaw pulsed in response to his command, its living hull rippling as the new glands were integrated into its form. The other bio-ships followed suit, their acceleration increasing exponentially as the enhancements took hold. The fleet would no longer crawl through the stars—they would blitz across the galaxy like a storm.