"You see, this is danger." The winged figure in the white light spoke faintly.
Good news: the black-robed men ahead believed in the Emperor—even more sincerely than Zhou Yun did.
Bad news: the Emperor they worshipped had four arms.
They were the false Imperial Army, the sneaky ones, the Genestealer Cult, the vanguard of the Hive Fleet.
The purestrain Genestealers of the Tyranid fleet would infiltrate hive cities and use their warped genetic material from the swarm to infect and control Imperial citizens, breeding an entire population.
They'd lurk in the darkness of the hive for generations, building their own social structures and religion.
Then, when the Day of Ascension they chanted about arrived—when the Hive Fleet descended from orbit—they would pour from the shadows, throwing the planet into chaos, paving the way for the Great Devourer to consume the world.
These sneaky ones often gathered around strange cult beliefs.
Like the Emperor with four arms, Saint Gilles with six eyes, Kiriman with twelve legs, and so on.
"About as heretical as you." The winged figure in the white light commented.
"Shut up, birdman! My loyalty to the Emperor is witnessed by Luna and Terra!"
Zhou Yun cautiously glanced at the praying cultists and decided there was no need to disturb their devotions.
He crept along quietly, trying to slip away without a sound.
Tot, like most people on Ashford, was a hive worker, laboring under harsh conditions to produce war materials for the Imperium in exchange for the food needed to survive.
On this world, scorched by poisonous suns, crawling with mutants in the dark, and crushed by heavy Imperial taxes, life was anything but pleasant.
Endless toil, ever-present death, threats in the dark, gang extortion, scarce supplies…
In the face of all that, only faith kept one's spirit from collapsing.
Tot was a devout follower of the Emperor. He believed in the great and merciful Emperor, and through the blessing of the patriarch, he could truly feel the Emperor's presence.
That Emperor with four strong arms, embracing all of humanity among the stars.
He often heard the Emperor's whispering in his ear.
He answered the Emperor's guidance with fervent prayer, begging for the Emperor's embrace to come down upon the scarlet wasteland of Ashford.
Today, he had brought a few newcomers through a passage only known to the cult to this secret ruined district.
He was here to preach the mercy and nobility of the Four-Armed Emperor, so they could join him in praying for the Emperor to embrace this planet soon.
"The God-Emperor was born with four arms, so that He could embrace the boundless galaxy, embrace each of His children."
"The Emperor's embrace will come. When it does, it will be our great Day of Ascension, and we shall sit at the Emperor's throne and be with Him."
Tot spoke with fanaticism, spreading his long, mutated fingers proudly—proof of the Emperor's blessing.
"Bishop." A timid newcomer raised a hand among the rubble.
Tot ignored him. One should not interrupt devotion to the Four-Armed Emperor.
"Praise the Four-Armed Emperor, praise His generosity and mercy. He will deliver us from suffering, cast away the stars, and lead us straight to divinity."
"Bishop, look behind you." Another newcomer said nervously.
Tot's brow furrowed.
"Do not interrupt me!" he snapped.
"No, Bishop, look behind you!"
Seeing several newcomers pointing behind him in panic, Tot finally turned.
Behind? What could possibly be there? Just the big polonium tank, wasn't it?
Tot turned his head in confusion.
Only to see a man in common hive worker clothes tiptoeing away.
Tot froze. Where was the big tank? Where did it go?
And who was this man? How did he get into the ruins?
Tot's and the man's eyes met. The atmosphere was awkward.
The man forced a sheepish smile, spread his hands helplessly.
"Good morning. Had breakfast yet?"
"…."
Tot gestured with his fingers behind his back. Two cultists quietly drew the autopistols at their waists.
"Who are you?" Tot asked coldly.
"Actually, I too am a devout follower of the Emperor… only, my Emperor has six legs."
Hearing this, Tot blinked. Six-legged Emperor—what heresy was that?!
The Emperor clearly had two legs and four arms! Six legs—that was obviously xenos!
Before Tot could react, the man pointed his ten fingers at him.
"—Bang! Bang! Bang!!"
The man's mouth made three "bang" sounds as blasts of air shot from his fingers.
Tot felt a shockwave explode in his chest. The thin chitin covering cracked with a brittle sound.
He fell, crashing onto the rubble.
The cultists behind him were also knocked down, their pistols clattering to the ground as they fainted.
"Psyker? Ark gang?" Tot clutched his chest, enduring the pain as he got up.
Blessed by the Four-Armed Emperor, he was more mutated, tougher.
He tore off his shattered robe, revealing purplish, gel-like skin.
A pair of malformed arms unfolded from his sides, four arms reaching toward the man.
"Die!!!"
He roared, lunging like an oversized hormagaunt.
But the man suddenly lifted his shirt and reached into the white pouch on his stomach.
Then Tot saw him pull out the seven or eight-meter polonium tank from that palm-sized pouch.
Ah—so that's where it went! Tot thought midair.
And then the massive tank of ceramite came crashing down on him.
Boom—
Zhou Yun stuffed the tank back into his pouch.
Even a Tyranid-mutated body couldn't withstand ceramite's crushing weight. The hybrid cultist was flattened like a bug.
"Damn, that mutie Lag sold me this location?!"
Zhou Yun cursed the gang member who'd sold him the position of this ruin.
This district was probably already crawling with sneaky ones.
"They've clearly been entrenched on Ashford for a long time, friend."
The winged figure in the white light appeared again.
"The shadow of the swarm has already wrapped around this world. Its tendrils are waiting to lick every drop of biomass."
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For +20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!][[email protected]/euridome]
[Thank You For Your Support!]