Birth.
It was an exceptionally strange sensation. The vast majority of Tyranid organisms possessed no individual consciousness or memories. Minor vanguard strains, such as Hormagaunts and Termagants, lacked even a functioning digestive system, their every action dictated entirely by hardwired instinct.
When higher-tier organisms were birthed, Norn Queens would endow them with greater intellect and a predetermined set of memory data.
For these organisms, they were merely fabricated assets. Their individual will held no meaning, and their memories served strictly to optimize the Swarm's combat efficiency. Upon their demise, if their remains could be successfully reclaimed, their refined muscle memory and battlefield instincts would be reabsorbed into the collective pool.
Even more advanced organisms went a step further—the Hive Mind would deliberately preserve their unique consciousness, allowing them to endure across cycles so they could repeatedly slay ever-mightier foes for the Swarm.
Yet no matter how advanced an individual organism might be, none could ever breach the absolute will of the Great Devourer, nor could they truly escape the control of the Swarm.
By that same token, any shifts within the Great Devourer would reflexively manifest across the entire Tyranid species.
Yuno devoured the pathogen Nurgle had provided and used his laboratory to culture and breed the strain. Nurgle, naturally, knew full well that she would do this. The communion between two entities at the absolute apex of the universe required no conventional means of communication.
From the very beginning, however, this encounter had been a transactional trade.
The virus afflicting Isha belonged to Nurgle. Now that Yuno had neutralized it, the pathogen had naturally been analyzed and thoroughly understood by the Swarm. Conversely, Yuno providing the cure allowed Nurgle to further refine his own viral methodologies.
The plague Nurgle surrendered to her followed the exact same principle. No matter where the Swarm chose to deploy it, Nurgle would inevitably secure samples, utilizing the data to continuously improve his craft.
I suppose Nurgle has found himself slightly outmatched in the eternal Great Game among the four Chaos Gods lately, Yuno mused.
Suddenly, Nurgle and Yuki came rushing back into the chamber.
"My goodness, what have you done?! You've practically turned my laboratory into a sterile cleanroom!"
" Yuno, what's going on?" Yuki asked. "I can actually feel the air in the garden turning crisp and clean."
Yuno looked slightly taken aback. "I merely consumed a few viral samples. Is it really that big of a deal?"
"Alas, those were all my precious little darlings," Nurgle sighed, reverting back to his bulbous, spherical shape. "Whenever you deploy those plagues in the future, you'd best shout my name a couple of times."
"Before you depart, stay and join us for a meal. It is an old family tradition of ours."
"An old tradition?"
Mortarion sat with a completely blank expression. Ku'gath's gargantuan physique gradually compressed and shrank down to squeeze through Nurgle's corridors.
"Mortarion, wipe that look off your face. This is a rare family gathering; we are all Grandfather's children, so we should be a little happier. Come now, give us a smile."
Mortarion completely ignored him, walking straight over to the dinner table where another pivotal figure had already arrived.
First Captain of the Death Guard, Typhon.
He looked toward his Primarch, speaking in a thoroughly peculiar cadence: "Father, the weather is quite lovely today. It truly reminds me of our days back on Barbarus."
"If you are so inclined, I can ask Grandfather to send you to keep Barbarus company."
Mortarion sat down as several more of Nurgle's Greater Daemons drifted into the hall, jovially recounting tales of how they had spread Grandfather's benevolence across the material universe.
Mortarion attempted to participate in the conversation. Face-to-face with the fallen Primarch, the other daemons maintained a great deal of respect. However, the moment Mortarion began using numerology to meticulously break down destiny, the Greater Daemons found it exceedingly difficult to mask their utter lack of interest.
They cast pleading glances toward Ku'gath for rescue, but Ku'gath and Typhon were locked in a fervent discussion of their own, completely oblivious to their brethren's silent distress signals.
"Have you caught wind of that specific hive fleet?" Typhon asked.
Ku'gath looked slightly puzzled. "Which one?"
"The one causing absolute havoc all over the place. They never display a ravenous greed for biomass, yet they've brought an immense amount of grief to the Imperium of Man. Let me think... the Imperium refers to them as Hive Fleet Aether-Kronos."
Ku'gath reached out for a goblet on the table, drinking down the murky green fluid which brimmed with various solid sediments. "Grandfather's craftsmanship never ceases to amaze. I've been drinking this brew for an eternity, yet I can never get enough."
"I am speaking to you about Hive Fleet Aether-Kronos."
Ku'gath waved a hand dismissively. "Speak on, I am listening."
"I am wondering if this particular fleet might be an experimental vanguard engineered by the Great Devourer. They may have already suffered significant splinter losses elsewhere, and now require far more conservative, high-yield tactics."
Ku'gath countered, "But based on our current intelligence, their sheer scale vastly exceeds our wildest imaginations. At the very least, none of the entities I know dare to take them lightly."
"Those are merely the anxieties of cowards. For us, it is nothing to lose sleep over."
"Have you ever clashed with the Necrons?"
"Those mindless automatons? Not yet. Why do you ask?"
"Word is their leader has personally encountered the so-called Great Devourer. Rather than sitting here spinning meaningless theories, you'd be better off seeking him out to ask yourself."
Typhon offered no reply, continuing to lecture on his own insights. "I gathered this intelligence from the mortals who have actively engaged this fleet. Of course, not just humans—the Eldar as well, and even a contingent of Orks. What kind of individual could possibly be directing Hive Fleet Aether-Kronos—"
Ku'gath's voice abruptly cut off. The remaining Nurgle daemons fell completely silent as well.
"This..."
Mortarion was the only one who didn't look entirely stunned. Given Nurgle's sheer hospitality and his amicable demeanor toward the duo, their attendance at this family gathering wasn't entirely outside the realm of possibility.
Yuno and Yuki looked out over the room packed with Nurgle daemons. Yuki nervously rubbed his nose.
I hope I'm not acting out of turn here.
Nurgle strode into the hall, having assumed a new form—that of a colossal moth.
"Everyone, these two are our new friends. They shall be our guests, at least for the duration of this dinner."
Typhon was the first to speak. "Grandfather, these two are..."
"This lady is the Great Devourer, and this gentleman is her consort, Yuki."
Every single Nurgle daemon in attendance plummeted into a dead silence.
They found it exceptionally difficult to process Nurgle's words—especially Ku'gath and Typhon, who had literally just been dissecting the Tyranids moments prior.
"Come now. Regardless of what the future holds, we are friends in this moment. For the duration of this dinner, let there be absolutely no hostility from anyone."
This was Nurgle's decree, and the formal command to begin the feast.
"My children, come and let us enjoy this rare, beautiful moment."
Nurgle's dinner table was far better than one might expect. At the very least, the dishes closely resembled Earth's Indian cuisine, and the flavors were quite pleasant.
Of course, it was highly probable that Nurgle, out of consideration for his mortal guest, had deliberately refrained from serving any of his signature plague-ridden delicacies.