In the thick biomass pool, a savage beast, larger than the genestealer patriarch, stretched its body, its four sharp claws cutting through the viscous liquid.
The surrounding biomass was gradually forming its body and chitinous carapace, making the beast's form ever larger and stronger.
And beside the beast, many smaller embryonic sacs floated, within the sacs were many smaller Tyranids, some were smaller than humans, with sharp claws or living weaponry, some were slender and long, with sharp blades and strong legs, good at jumping, some had wings and poison glands, holding bio-rifles, and some carried bio-cannons on their shoulders, with three long legs.
These Tyranids, soaking in the biomass pool, were gradually being born, they looked like… they looked like…
Mont shivered.
They looked just like the soulless Tyranids that the Archangels showed him, which descended during Ashford's doomsday.
"Leman Russ, you absolutely won't believe what I'm seeing."
Mont said with a trembling voice, his voice transmitted to Alexander's ear through the vibrations of the small bug.
Listening to Mont's description of the scene, Alexander, on the other end of the communication, was uncharacteristically silent for a few seconds.
Mont couldn't help but think: Sure enough, even Leman Russ hadn't anticipated this situation.
"So it really is like that," Alexander's voice of surprise rang in Mont's ear.
Mont's expression suddenly twisted.
"You already guessed it might be like this?"
Mont gritted his teeth and asked:
"Why didn't you tell me? You knew my plan wouldn't work!"
The genestealer patriarch had no intention of injecting these people with corrupted genes.
It was just deceiving people to come here, to decompose them into concentrated biomass liquid, to create and feed the Tyranids in the pool!
Without even physical contact with the genestealer patriarch, Mont had no way to corrupt it in return.
Mont's plan was impossible to succeed from the start!
"I only thought of this possibility recently, and it was just a guess."
"Besides, if you didn't go in, how could I confirm my conjecture?"
Listening to Alexander's voice in his ear, Mont barely managed to hold back from cursing out loud.
Bastard, this guy is a sly old fox. If he could get out alive, Mont would never cooperate with him again in this lifetime.
On the streets of the First District,
although Alexander sounded relaxed, his slightly twitching eye revealed that he was actually extremely troubled inside.
He didn't expect the Great Devourer to actually do this!
The basement of the Government Building was a biomass pool, a biomass pool used to cultivate Tyranids.
Presumably, the Great Devourer had found a way for the genestealer patriarch to cultivate some Tyranids.
What exactly that method was, and how it was achieved, Alexander had no clue yet.
But without a Tyranid bio-ship, without a Dominatrix, with only a mere genestealer patriarch and a biomass pool to cultivate Tyranids,
this must be extremely inefficient and wasteful of biomass.
Moreover, most Tyranids without a hive mind to control them are just beasts.
The most likely scenario is that the hive mind formed by the genestealer is used to control them.
However, the genestealer have much higher autonomy than Tyranids, and there are even cases of genestealer betraying the Great Devourer.
The Great Devourer actually took such a risk. Although most of the Tyranids produced were relatively low-level, those smaller than humans, with weapons or blades, should be Gun Bugs and Hormagaunts.
Those with slender bodies, good at jumping, and with sharp claws, should be Von Ryan's Leapers.
Those with wings, poison glands, and bio-rifles, should be Gargoyles.
These are all relatively low-level Tyranids.
What concerned Alexander the most was what that Tyranid Behemoth, even larger than the patriarch, was.
Mont only said that the thing was very large, with four sharp claws...
Damn... it wouldn't be a Norn Emissary or a Norn Assimilator, would it? It couldn't be...
Alexander's eye twitched slightly, and he quickly shook his head, denying this possibility.
Norn Emissaries and Norn Assimilators are among the most top-tier units in the Tyranid, requiring a large amount of biomass and time to produce and create.
It couldn't be these two 'daddies' who could chop down Custodes and whose size rivaled Imperial Knights.
Similarly, hive Tyrants and Swarmlords are also unlikely; these two are also extremely high-level units, impossible to cultivate without a Dominatrix.
Could it be an Executioner or a subspecies of the Executioner?
No matter which, the Great Devourer has gone all out this time.
Does it really want to 'slurp' the gene sequence of Archangel Sanguinius that badly?
The Nether Shield Star System is the gateway to the Baal Star System,
and Baal holds the remains of Sanguinius.
The Great Devourer, disregarding biomass consumption and even having the genestealer prematurely create Tyranids, is probably just to 'slurp' a bit of Sanguinius' gene sequence, to create stronger and more powerful Tyranids.
Alexander couldn't help but rub his temples, his thoughts becoming increasingly chaotic.
Tyranids, even relatively low-level Tyranids, are not something the PDF on Ashford can deal with.
Now, a large number of residents have gathered in the First District. If they are all decomposed into biomass, the genestealer will be able to mass-produce Tyranids, allowing a vast Tyranid tide to pour out from the Bottom Nest.
Before the nearby Astra Militarum or Astartes arrive, it is likely that all of Ashford will be directly devoured.
At that time, the Imperium will face a pincer attack from two Tyranid forces, one within the hive city and one among the stars, completely different from the original historical trajectory.
A way must be found to prevent the genestealer patriarch from continuing to create Tyranids.
But how exactly to stop it?
Suddenly, a small hand was placed on Alexander's arm.
Joan looked at Alexander, her face pale and covered in sweat.
"Warp Engine."
Joan said in a somewhat hoarse voice. She had clearly learned of the situation beneath the Government Building through her precognitive abilities:
"The key is the Warp Engine!"
"The Warp Engine is in the basement of the Government Building."
"The hive mind is using the Warp Engine to transmit the genetic material information of the Tyranids to the genestealer patriarch."
Alexander ruffled Joan's hair.
So it was the Warp Engine.
No wonder the genestealer patriarch was entrenched in the First District.
Producing Tyranids is a genetic programming job; the Dominatrix is like the programmer.
And now the Warp Engine is like a repeater, allowing the hive mind to remotely command the genestealer patriarch to produce Tyranids.
The efficiency is very poor, the loss is great, and there is a certain danger, but the Great Devourer is desperate to 'slurp' Sanguinius.
As long as that Warp Engine is taken away, the birth of Tyranids at the hands of the genestealer can be stopped.
But...
Alexander looked at Joan, who had woken up at a critical moment and brought crucial information.
Such a coincidence, it seemed someone was starting to exert influence.
Alexander suddenly felt a toothache.
Mont's plan had failed, and that genestealer patriarch was still at full strength.
The only good news was that Alexander had never placed hope in Mont from the beginning; he had prepared for this situation in advance.
It's just the success rate... Alexander took a deep breath.
He reached into his four-dimensional pocket and pulled out a stack of crude cards.
He decided to use a more mystical method to divine whether he could successfully cut off the Warp Engine.
"Draw one."
Alexander shuffled the cards and handed the seventy-eight low-quality emperor tarot cards, purchased from the Lower Nest, to Joan.
"Didn't you not believe it last time?" Sanguinius grumbled.
Joan gently extended her small hand and drew a card from the deck.
Alexander looked at the tarot card.
The card depicted a corpse, browned with age, blackened by death.
Going on sale tomorrow, going on sale tomorrow!
The card depicted a corpse, browned by age and blackened by death.
The cadaver was bound to a massive golden throne, its mouth agape in a silent scream, imperceptible in the physical universe.
Behind the corpse, a burning sun hung high.
Emperor, this card's name is Emperor.
It signifies hope in the cold, dark depths.
Upright Emperor card.
Alexander looked at the tarot card in Joan's hand, his mouth twitching imperceptibly.
That damn Emperor wants to CPU me!
The upright Emperor card represents the lingering hope in the cold darkness, and it can also mean that the Emperor thinks you're capable.
The emperor tarot cards are said to be connected to the will of the Emperor himself.
If this is true, the tarot card in Alexander's hand means... the Emperor supports him.
Alexander wished the old man would give him something more practical.
Like sending an Emperor Great Demon or an Emperor Demon Army to manifest?
At the very least, a Divine Chosen BUFF would be nice.
Alexander continuously complained about the Emperor in his mind.
"There's really no helping you, Emperor Nobita."
Alexander rubbed his brow, muttering softly.
He looked down at Joan:
"Can I take this as the Emperor's permission?"
Alexander asked, shaking the tarot card in his hand.
Joan gently nodded her small head.
Since the Emperor has already granted permission.
"Since you've already granted permission, don't blame me for using some blasphemous methods."
Alexander mumbled, then looked at Joan:
"You'll be fine hiding by yourself, right?"
Joan nodded.
Although her combat power was essentially zero, her prophetic abilities allowed her to avoid danger, making it almost impossible for her to encounter any.
Alexander nodded slightly. He took off his four-dimensional pocket, clutched it in his hand, and stood up.
The moment he stood up, he felt the gazes of several genestealer monitoring him from all directions.
Alexander met their gaze, straightened his clothes, and walked to the middle of the road.
The genestealer silently moved closer to his position.
"Cough, cough, cough."
Alexander cleared his throat and raised his hands to his surroundings:
"OK! Brothers, look at me, look at me!"
"I have an announcement to make!!!"
The surrounding genestealer and people looked at Alexander with some astonishment.
Alexander grinned, revealing the four-dimensional pocket in his palm.
A genestealer guardian hidden in the shadows silently approached Alexander.
Its sharp longsword cut through the air, stabbing towards Alexander.
However, a swollen corpse suddenly appeared from nowhere,
landing between Alexander and the genestealer guardian.
The longsword pierced into the corpse's swollen abdomen, and pus surged out.
The corpse grinned, reaching out to grab the genestealer guardian.
The genestealer guardian swung its sword like the wind, cutting the corpse in half in the blink of an eye.
A gloved fist emerged from between the two halves of the corpse, hammering towards the genestealer guardian's sword.
The genestealer guardian blocked with its sword, but the longsword instantly twisted and snapped. The fist heavily struck its deformed body beneath its robe.
Its body exploded like a balloon under the robe, sending flesh flying.
In its final moments,
it only saw countless plague zombies pouring out of the four-dimensional pocket in Alexander's hand like a tide.
"Item: Plague Zombie"
[Origin: Nether Shield Star System - Ashford Star - Fordia city Bottom Nest]
[Description: Victims of the zombie plague, dead who are eternally rotting, capable of gathering into an endless sea of putrid flesh. Bitter, cold, poisonous, with effects of aiding digestion, eliminating stagnation, inducing vomiting, and purging. Not suitable for consumption.]
[Production Time: 998.M41]
[Status: You're really trying to fool the Future Department Store with this thing?]
[Value: 50 credits]
"What is this?! Corpses! Living corpses!"
"They're zombies! They're plague zombies!!!"
"Cultists! The cultists are here!!!"
Zombies with swollen, pale skin brandished crude weapons, baring their ferocious fangs and extending their bony fingers to pounce on the surrounding people and genestealer.
The rotting corpses gathered, forming a foul-smelling tide of flesh, with carrion worms circling around them, injecting plague toxins into the living.
The genestealer and plague zombies clashed.
Large, mutated creatures in heavy robes swung their giant hammers, smashing the surrounding plague zombies into bits, but more plague zombies quickly swarmed in and overwhelmed the mutated creatures.
Genestealer guardians dodged through the tide of corpses, reaping death with their longswords, but the plague zombies grew in number by infecting nearby residents, and their dodging range became smaller and smaller.
More lower-level genestealer fired their guns at the plague zombies, but as long as their heads weren't destroyed, these plague zombies could ignore all damage.
"How is this possible! How did these plague zombies get through the protective wall!!!"
The genestealer frantically resisted, but still couldn't understand how these plague zombies had appeared.
That protective wall was an ancient technological artifact from ten thousand years ago; how did these plague zombies silently enter the First District?
Alexander stood amidst the rotting tide of corpses, and these festering bodies, as if under his control, all moved away from him.
He had returned to the mutant settlement last night precisely to bring these vast numbers of plague zombies.
Alexander's four-dimensional pocket did not have the conditions to sustain life for long periods.
But plague zombies were not truly living beings; they could survive in the endless dark space within the four-dimensional pocket.
It wasn't just plague zombies...
"There are many living people here, all of whom can be infected by the zombie virus and become our strength."
Marquite emerged from the four-dimensional pocket, looking around with some surprise:
"You actually managed to bring them into the First District..."
Marquite, blessed by Nurgle's power, could also live in extreme environments for a period of time.
"What's the situation now? What's the objective?"
"The genestealer patriarch has built a biomass pool underground, using genetic material information transmitted by a Warp Engine to create Tyranid creatures."
Alexander said, taking out the Superpower Hat from his four-dimensional pocket and putting it on:
"Mont is also in the basement of the Government Building. The goal is to destroy or cut off the Warp Engine to prevent them from continuing to create Tyranid creatures."
Marquite nodded slightly, quickly understanding the situation.
He tore off his robe, revealing his twisted, swollen, and rotten body beneath his clothes, and drew the triangular dagger hanging at his waist.
"Father God, I shall devoutly praise your grace with sevenfold death."
Marquite raised his triangular dagger, shouting sharply:
"All things decay, all life is endless!!!"
The surrounding plague zombies also let out sharp roars in response.
Watching this scene, an inexplicable urge also surged within Alexander's heart.
The urge to pray to the Emperor.
He drew the Sword of Light. Denkōmaru from his waist, and also shouted loudly:
"Blood for the Emperor, skulls for the Golden Throne!"