Amidst the ruins of the banquet hall.
The massive crater left by the psychic explosion still smoldered with acrid smoke. The entire hall had been reduced to a desolate wasteland. Not even molten metal or charred corpses remained; only the turbulent currents of psychic energy still raged in the air, crackling with raw static.
At the deepest point of the crater, a bloody mass of flesh twitched slightly.
It was a lump of meat, dominated by a massive, gaping mouth.
The terrifying blast of the Psi-Annihilation Box had destroyed nearly all of Ragnar's body, yet this colossal stomach-mouth had miraculously survived. It pulsed like the massive, beating heart of some primordial behemoth.
After a long pause, it began to slither slowly across the ground, leaving a trail of dark-green blood in its wake. Its resilience was disgustingly, horrifyingly absolute.
Tap, tap, tap—
A faint patter of footsteps echoed from the lip of the crater.
Several human soldiers, rushing forward in a hurry, cautiously entered the ruins. They were members of the nearby 4th Marine Regiment who had broken through heavy pockets of Orks to reinforce the bridge after hearing the detonation.
"What in the Emperor's name happened here?" one soldier muttered, his voice trembling as he swept his flashlight across the expanse.
The sheer desolation made their spines tingle. They couldn't comprehend what kind of cataclysmic force had unleashed such destruction. Swallowing his dread, the squad leader decided to conduct a sweep of the area, searching for potential survivors—be they friend or foe.
Just then, the soldier bringing up the rear felt his boot sink into something soft and squishy.
"Huh?"
He lowered his gaze, pointing his flashlight downward. When he saw what lay beneath his boot, his face drained of all color.
"W-What is that!?" he shrieked.
The other soldiers spun around, throwing their lights toward where he was pointing.
The bloody, mangled mouth was crawling slowly across the floor. Its surface was webbed with a dense network of pulsing blood vessels. It snapped and shut, emitting a raspy, gurgling wheeze that was utterly repulsive.
"Dry-heave..." a soldier gagged, unable to stomach the sight.
"What kind of devilry is this?"
"It looks... like a giant mouth!"
"Impossible! How could anything survive an explosion that massive?"
The soldiers stood frozen, paralyzed by the sheer bizarreness of the sight. Terror was written plain on their faces.
"I don't care what it is—shoot it!" the veteran squad leader barked, reacting first. He raised his lasgun and squeezed the trigger.
ZAP!
A beam of crimson light struck the surface of the mouth. The mass of flesh merely twitched, the las-beam leaving nothing but a shallow scorch mark. It failed to inflict any real damage.
"It did nothing?!" the veteran's face fell. "Fire! All of you, fire!"
ZAP! ZAP! BOOM!
The squad unleashed a volley of las-fire and solid rounds. Green blood and shredded flesh splattered across the floor. Yet, despite the barrage, the creature's slithering did not slow. On the contrary, the pain of the attack seemed to send it into a frenzy.
Its speed spiked. It lunged toward the two closest soldiers.
"Ah! Run!"
The two marines bolted in sheer terror. But how could mere human legs outrun a maddened predator?
"CHOMP!"
The mouth stretched to its absolute limit, unleashing a sudden, powerful suction. The two retreating soldiers were instantly yanked off their feet. They screamed in terror as they flew backward, swallowed whole by the ravenous maw—weapons, armor, and all.
Only the sickening crunch of grinding bones and wet chewing echoed through the chamber.
The remaining soldiers stood rooted to the spot, entirely shattered by the horror. They had never witnessed a creature so unnatural. To survive such a blast, and then to devour two grown men in a single gulp—it defied all logic.
"Run! Run for your lives!" someone screamed.
The remaining marines finally snapped out of their stupor and bolted, wishing they had been born with extra legs. But it was already too late.
After devouring the two soldiers, the mouth grew visibly larger. Worse, two thick, muscular arms sprouted from its sides, tipped with razor-sharp claws. Propping itself up on these limbs, its movement speed tripled. It sprinted like a massive, grotesque spider, pursuing the fleeing survivors.
"AAAGH!"
Screams cut through the air one after another. One by one, the soldiers were run down and swallowed. Their flak armor and weapons offered no more protection than paper. Against the maw, they were nothing but sheep to the slaughter.
In mere minutes, all eight soldiers were devoured.
After consuming the squad, the mouth let out a deep, booming roar of satisfaction. This was no longer a wet, gurgling gasp—it was a roar vibrating with raw power and primal fury.
Then, a mutation even more bizarre occurred.
Above the mouth, a torso, neck, and head rapidly began to take shape. Below, two thick, powerful legs erupted from the mass. Dark-green muscle and veins writhed furiously across the skeletal frame, accompanied by the stomach-churning sound of snapping, growing bones.
However, the energy was still insufficient to grant him a complete recovery. His outer hide failed to form.
He stood like a flayed Ork—a four-meter-tall "bloody man." His skin was entirely absent; raw, exposed muscle and veins pulsed violently in the air. His eyes were solid, pitch-black voids, devoid of sclera or pupils, burning with an unnatural light.
And upon his belly, the giant mouth remained, snapping open and shut as it dripped trails of dark-green saliva.
Though he looked horrific and crippled, the aura radiating from him was as savage and lethal as ever.
Ragnar flexed his fingers, feeling the familiar tide of power surging back into his limbs. Though far from his peak, it was enough. It was more than enough to slaughter that arrogant shrimp noble.
He looked toward the bridge. His nose twitched.
He could smell it.
There was plenty of fresh meat waiting just ahead. And he could smell Dominic—the shrimp he hated to his very marrow.
At the thought of Dominic, the mouth on his belly dripped even more drool.
"Meat..." "Shrimp..."
Ragnar let out a raspy growl. He threw himself forward, sprinting toward the bridge, his heavy footsteps thudding through the corridor and leaving a massive, bloody footprint with every stride.
But just as he burst from the corridor and reached the entrance of the banquet hall, a purple figure suddenly descended from above, hanging upside down directly in front of his face.
The newcomer wore a sleek suit of purple bio-armor, its surface shimmering with a metallic luster. A full-coverage helm concealed his face, save for two striking eyes that shone through the visor: one a golden sun, the other a violet abyss, radiating a suffocating pressure.
He hung there suspended in mid-air, looking down at Ragnar with a cold, flat, and utterly unyielding authority.
"I didn't say you could leave, xenos."
Ragnar stared at the purple figure hanging upside down in mid-air, a surge of fury rushing straight to his head.
An unnameable rage flared violently from the depths of his heart.
All he wanted to do was kill a shrimp noble! Why was it so damn hard?
First it was that black-armored woman, then that golden "corn-stalk" Renyx, and now a purple-clad freak had popped up. One after another, they all stood in his way.
Did they really think Great-Gulp Ragnar was some easy target?
Even if he wasn't in top shape and hadn't fully recovered to his peak, taking down that giant who looked like a golden ear of corn was still child's play. So what of this scrawny, purple-skinned shrimp who had appeared out of nowhere?
"Get lost, you suicidal whelp!"
Ragnar let out a furious roar. His exposed muscles bulged, and the veins beneath his flesh throbbed violently. He clenched his fists and stomped down hard. His heavy body suddenly erupted forward at a speed rivaling a cannonball, charging straight at Raynor.
He wanted to smash this purple shrimp's head into mush with a single punch, then go slaughter that damnable noble shrimp. No one was going to stop him!
But the moment he took a step, the world before his eyes spun violently.
The purple figure who had been hanging upside down from the ceiling had somehow "righted" himself. He stood firmly in mid-air, looking down at Ragnar.
"Eh?"
Ragnar dithered. How did he suddenly flip right-side up? Did I charge too hard and get dizzy?
He instinctively looked down at his feet. With that single glance, Ragnar's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
Wait... why is the floor suddenly so far away? No, wait, isn't that the ceiling?! How... how is this possible?!
Only then did he realize the truth. It wasn't the purple shrimp who had righted himself. It was Ragnar himself who had been struck and sent flipping upside down. He was currently hurtling toward the ceiling, head down and feet up.
Yet he hadn't even seen when the other party had struck!
A bone-chilling dread surged from the soles of Ragnar's feet straight to his head. Waves of shock crashed through his mind.
How is this possible?! He was already incredibly fast. None of the shrimps from earlier could keep up with his speed. How could this purple shrimp be even faster than him?!
Before he could make sense of it, a massive shadow loomed over him.
Ragnar rolled his eyes with difficulty to look toward the source of the shadow.
A colossal Tyranid head materialized right in front of him. It was a lethal, insectoid entity shimmering with a pale-blue psychic aura. Its eyes glowed with a cold, crimson light, locking onto him with absolute focus.
Beneath the head lay an even more gargantuan torso. Four thick arms sprouted from it; the forelimbs ended in razor-sharp, scythe-like talons, while the hindlimbs possessed flexible, five-fingered hands much like a human's.
This was Sarah Great-Cold—Raynor's bonded, and the current Chosen of Sarah.
Sarah reached out and clamped a hand around Ragnar's throat. Her fingers sank easily into his raw, exposed flesh, causing dark-green blood to spray outward.
"WAAAGH!!!"
Ragnar bellowed in agony. He tried to thrash, to fight back. But Sarah's strength was far more terrifying than anything he could have anticipated. No matter how hard he struggled, he could not break free of Sarah's grip.
Sarah stared coldly at the Greenskin monster in her grasp. Her gaze held a chill that made even the savage Ragnar shudder.
With a violent fling of her arm—BOOM!—Ragnar's body soared and slammed brutally into the hall's ceiling.
The thick alloy ceiling instantly buckled, forming a massive, cratered silhouette of his body as metal fragments and dust rained down. Ragnar's vision swam violently. It felt as though his internal organs had all been shaken out of place. His sight went dark, and he nearly blacked out.
Who are this human and this bug?! Their speed was superior to his, and their strength was absolutely monstrous!
For the first time in his life, fear crept into Ragnar's heart. He began to regret. He regretted not fleeing immediately, and instead provoking these two terrifying entities.
But regret came too late. Before the pain could fully register, the massive insectoid shadow was already before him once more.
Sarah raised her other fist and, with crushing momentum, slammed it squarely into Ragnar's face.
CRASH!
Under the deafening impact, Ragnar's entire face was driven deep into the alloy ceiling. The sound of fracturing bones was sickeningly clear. His facial features, completely unprotected by skin, were utterly caved in. Dark-green blood and brain matter mingled together, dripping down from the ceiling.
"AIEEE!!!"
Ragnar shrieked, a sound barely resembling anything living. He thrashed his limbs desperately, trying to shove Sarah away.
But it was entirely futile. Sarah grabbed Ragnar by his right wrist. Amidst his mounting terror—RIP!—accompanied by the stomach-churning sound of tearing muscle, Ragnar's entire right arm was violently ripped away by Sarah.
Dark-green blood erupted from the wound like a volcano, splattering all over Sarah. She casually tossed the severed limb aside. It hit the floor, still twitching spasmodically.
The colossal mouth on his belly joined in, howling in agony. The double screeching of his two mouths echoed through the chamber, incredibly bizarre and wretched.
Just as Ragnar tried to seize this moment to counterattack, Sarah's hand shot out again, clamping around his neck with enough force to snap it. With a sweeping motion, Sarah hurled Ragnar violently toward the ground.
As he plunged through the air, Ragnar forced his blood-slicked eyes open. Through his blurred vision, he saw several streaks of purple light whistling toward him with razor-sharp velocity.
They were spears forged of pure psychic energy. Before he could react—
THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!
Four neural spears lanced cleanly through his neck and his remaining three limbs, pinning him securely to the floor. The frigid psychic energy packed inside the lances immediately flooded his body, systematically dismantling his nervous system.
Instantly, Ragnar lost all control of his body. No matter how hard he willed it, he couldn't budge an inch. He was left like a sheep to the slaughter, falling toward the floor to await his demise.
But before he could hit the ground, Raynor blurred into a purple streak, positioning himself directly beneath the falling Ork. He bent his knees slightly, coiling his strength, and leaped explosively upward.
CRACK!
His knee drove into Ragnar's lower back like a battering ram. With a sickening snap, Ragnar's newly regenerated spine was shattered to pieces by the strike.
"WAAAGH..."
Ragnar let out a choked groan of absolute agony. The massive mouth on his belly split wide open, vomiting out half-digested chunks of food mixed with shredded organs and dark-green bile. A rancid, putrid stench instantly filled the entire hall.