The path to the bridge had been completely transformed. On either side of the wide passageway, there were no longer any crew members or the fawning adjutant Otto. Instead, a dense swarm of Tyranid organisms was busy sweeping the battlefield. The air was thick with the copper tang of blood and a sharp, sour stench.
When Raynor appeared at the entrance of the passage, a breathtaking scene unfolded. All the Tyranid units—Hormagaunts, Termagants, and Tyranid Warriors—moved in unison. They stepped back, clearing a wide path for Raynor.
Thousands of Hormagaunts lay silently on the ground, their sharp bone-blades retracted, their purple carapaces shimmering under the red glare of the emergency lights. Behind them, Termagants stood like silent sentinels, their bio-cannons pointed upward. The ferocious Tyranid Warriors resembled statues, their heavy carapaces and menacing blades exuding a crushing sense of oppression. They stood as orderly as soldiers awaiting a king's inspection.
Kerry and Isud were stunned. How could these monsters, known only for their insatiable hunger, restrain their instincts and obey a single command? Who—or what—was this "Titus" truly?
Under their terrified gazes, Raynor stepped into the corridor formed by the insectoid guards. Kerry and Isud followed, flanked by ferocious purple monsters, every step filled with trepidation.
As they reached the upper decks, the scene turned bizarre. The corridor was filled with a faint, distorted, and eerie light. On the ground, the corpses of the armsmen had "fused" with their armor. Flesh-buds emerged from the gaps in the plate, wriggling slightly. Joints were twisted at impossible angles, and a ghostly glow emanated from beneath the skin. One corpse's mouth had even transformed into an insectoid mandible.
It was obvious who was responsible. Kerry and Isud hesitated, unable to move forward. The sight of the wriggling flesh and the Warp-light filled them with an instinctive dread, as if looking too long would corrupt their very souls.
Raynor understood their hesitation. With a thought, a pale purple, semi-transparent psionic barrier unfolded around him, enveloping himself, Kerry, and Isud. When the barrier touched the ghostly Warp-light, it crackled like water hitting boiling oil. The purple barrier held the Warp energies at bay.
Inside the barrier, Raynor felt warm and comfortable. But for Kerry and Isud, the experience was unpleasant. The air inside the barrier felt icy, and they could sense an endless, predatory hunger within the purple energy. To them, it felt like being food placed on a plate, waiting for a diner. It sent chills down their spines, but it was better than the Warp-taint outside.
Suddenly, a terrified scream escaped Kerry's throat.
"Ughhhh!"
Several "corpses" ahead of them sprang up. They moved with a stiff, supernatural swiftness, lunging at Kerry from the rear. These were the armsmen corrupted by Warp energy—Poxwalkers of the Warp.
Before the creatures could pounce, a dark shadow swept past, bringing a howling gust of wind. It was so fast that Kerry saw only a fleeting afterimage. A second later, the zombies froze before exploding into fragments of flesh and armor.
"There's no need to hide anymore," Raynor said, looking toward an empty corner.
After a brief silence, the light began to distort like ripples on water. A figure emerged—a humanoid creature in tattered robes. Beneath the hood, no face was visible, only two "eyes" burning with blue flames. He held a twisted staff topped with a murky crystal ball containing swirling, colorful vortices.
A Sorcerer of Tzeentch.
The Sorcerer "looked" at Raynor, his blue flames flickering as he analyzed the intruder. Then, a hoarse, dry laughter echoed from all directions.
"Hahahahaha! What exquisite changes! What a paradoxical interweaving! I cannot see it clearly, I cannot fathom it... how interesting! How wonderful!" The Sorcerer danced with manic joy, his crystal ball glowing brightly.
Raynor's face darkened. He despised these pawns of the Changer of Ways.
"Kill him," Raynor said calmly.
Before the words were fully out, two enormous purple figures dropped from the ceiling. Two Tyranid Warriors, lurking in the ventilation ducts, adjusted their posture mid-air. Their bone-blades gleamed coldly as they slashed down in a cross pattern.
The Sorcerer's laughter cut off. The barrier he hastily erected was as fragile as paper against the Warriors' raw power. The blades shattered his body and his staff alike. The Warriors shook the blue ichor from their blades and vanished back into the shadows.
Raynor stared at the dissipating remains. What was the Architect of Fate planning? He pushed the question aside; his priority was the governor's documents.
"Keep going."
They eventually reached a solemn corridor ending in a massive, five-meter-high gate of refined gold. At its center was a relief of a colossal skull, symbolizing loyalty to the Emperor.
"This is it," Isud said hoarsely. "The most secure vault on the ship. It requires genetic verification."
Two red lights flared in the skull's eye sockets, and a servo-skull flew out. Covered in brass plating and trailing data cables, it projected a red scanning beam.
"A gene-scanner," Kerry whispered. "It needs to scan my pupils and facial features."
As Kerry stepped forward, Raynor stopped him. From the shadow on Raynor's shoulder, a thin, sharp purple tentacle emerged, piercing a vein in Kerry's arm.
"Ah!" Kerry cried out, but he didn't dare struggle. The tentacle "analyzed" the blood for a few seconds before retracting into the shadows.
Raynor closed his eyes, processing the genetic data. A few seconds later, his six compound eyes opened. Under the watchful eyes of the couple, the chitinous mask on Raynor's face began to flow and reshape like liquid. The color lightened until it matched human skin. Features were meticulously outlined—eyebrows, nose, lips—even pores appeared.
In ten seconds, Raynor's face had transformed into an exact replica of Kerry von's.
"This... this..." Kerry pointed, his fingers trembling.
Raynor ignored them. Wearing the "Kerry-mask," he leaned into the servo-skull. The red light swept across the face, analyzing the pupils and subcutaneous blood vessels.
Beep!
The light turned green. The massive adamantine gates ground open, revealing a luxurious, red-velvet room. In the center sat an altar of white jade holding a dark metal box.
Raynor walked to the altar. The box had a biometric scanner. Raynor's right arm shifted, the chitin reorganizing until it looked like a human hand—Kerry's hand. He placed it on the scanner.
Click.
The lid popped open. Inside lay an ornate envelope with the double seals of the Sector Governor and the Adeptus Arbites, and a small black box.
Raynor checked the letter first—typical bureaucratic praise for Kerry's "loyalty." Then he opened the black box and inserted the green data chip into his data slate. As the text flowed across the screen, Raynor's pupils dilated.
He saw the true secrets of Brevis.
"So that's how it is..." he murmured, his voice filled with a dark, suppressed excitement. "Interesting. Truly interesting! Hahaha!"