The instinctive urge to survive made Sol tilt his head back fiercely, a movement that saved his life. The Lictor's blade tore his Terminator helmet with a screeching, teeth-grinding friction, only grazing the skin of his cheek instead of directly cleaving half his head.
Yet, even so, a searing pain struck him—it was the venom coating the blade beginning its corrosive work. Only then did Sol fully realize what had happened. His eyes were about to split with rage, and a bestial roar burst from his throat.
"Beast!"
Without hesitation, Sol's Storm Bolter in his left hand instantly roared, pouring out countless bolts like a torrential storm. Normally, the Hive Mind's surrogate would immediately re-cloak and retreat after performing a "decapitation," making it impossible for Sol to catch it.
However, this Lictor made an unexpected move—instead of retreating, it charged forward, rushing towards Sol's Storm Bolter muzzle flash!
The reason was simple: the moment it swallowed Pyro's head, the Hive Mind's consciousness, channeled through the Lictor's brain, felt a startling blankness.
This human commander's mind was utterly empty, a void! It was as if he had just been born... No, even an infant would have some primitive instincts and memories. Swallowing this guy's head was like consuming a tube of nutrient paste!
In a flash of lightning, the Hive Mind immediately understood: How could it guarantee that other Helldivers officers would not also be empty-headed like Pyro, unable to provide any useful information? It couldn't! The only way was to eliminate the blue Astartes in front of him; this guy must know the precise location of the two supreme commanders.
Sol already felt intense dizziness. Numbness spread from the wound, followed by a burning agony, and his limbs began to stiffen. He immediately understood that this damned neurotoxin was at work, and its potency far exceeded any he had ever encountered.
He realized that he might genuinely die here today. But he did not give up. Instead, he charged forward while the toxin had not fully taken effect. His left-hand Storm Bolter continued to spit tongues of death fire, and his massive right arm, encased in a Power Fist, swung fiercely at the Lictor with a whistling sound.
However, the neurotoxin ultimately affected his judgment and speed. The intense movement accelerated the toxin's spread and efficacy; his actions slowed, and his body stopped obeying his commands.
This punch was easily dodged by the Lictor with an eerie maneuver. Its scythe-like limb was raised high again, ready to end Sol's life with a single strike. In this critical moment, a dozen bolts whistled from outside the door, landing precisely around the Lictor, forcing it to retreat and interrupting its fatal blow.
It turned out that the First Company Terminators, hearing the sound of the bolter fire from their Captain's room, immediately sensed something was wrong and rushed in without hesitation, saving their Captain's life just in time.
"Xenos!"
The enraged Terminator warriors let out deafening roars. Clad in heavy ceramite armor, they surged towards the audacious Lictor like a steel flood, vowing to tear it to shreds.
Sol struggled to issue a warning—this Lictor was dangerous, don't rush it! But the neurotoxin had fully taken effect. His vision blacked out in waves, and his massive body crashed to the ground as his consciousness gradually sank into darkness.
Meanwhile, Archer, standing nearby, finally found something he could do. He immediately grabbed his toolbox and rushed to Sol's side. Extending his mechadendrites, he began emergency field repairs on Sol's Terminator Armour and attempted to inject an antidote, trying to snatch the Captain's life back from Death.
At the same time, the Terminator warriors charged the Lictor in successive waves. Their bolters spat fire, and their Power Fists and Chain Fists swung with terrifying force.
However, the Lictor, personally controlled by the Hive Mind, possessed agility and exquisite manipulation far beyond human comprehension. It moved like a phantom, weaving between the bulky Terminators. Every evasion was perfectly timed; every counter-attack was lethally precise.
Psychic ripples silently spread, weakening their reactions. One Terminator had just raised his bolter when he was impaled through the chest plate by the Lictor's sharp limb; another warrior had his joints instantly severed, his heavy body crashing to the ground. The Hive Mind's killing machine was efficiently and brutally harvesting the lives of these human elites, one after another.
The heavier the casualties, the firmer the Terminators' resolve became! These battle-hardened Space Marines had faced countless terrifying xenos, but the speed, strength, and cunning displayed by this Lictor reached an unprecedented level.
They clearly knew that a Tyranid creature this fearsome—save for them, the elite soldiers in Terminator Armour—could likely be effectively threatened by no one on Plantidium.
Even if the First Company was wiped out, they had to kill this thing here and prevent it from causing further havoc! Their roars shook the command post; every warrior, embracing a certainty of death, bravely charged the Lictor, using their flesh and blood to construct a wall of steel.
Archer frantically worked beside Sol, watching the warriors of the First Company fall one by one, their massive ceramite armours crashing to the floor. The Lictor had only acquired some scorch marks and shallow wounds, nowhere near enough to kill it.
None of the antidotes in his possession, no matter the formula, had any effect on this specialized neurotoxin. Sol's breathing grew weaker and his heartbeat irregular. Time, every second of it, became agonizingly long and cruel.
In his desperation, Archer's gaze swept across his toolbox and finally settled on an unassuming corner. He gritted his teeth, making up his mind: "Desperate times call for desperate measures!"
He pulled out an antique wooden box from the depths of his toolbox and took out a pill that emitted a faint, clear fragrance—a Soul Restoring Pill (Huanhun Dan) from Chinese Paladin. He pried open Sol's jaw and placed the Soul Restoring Pill into his mouth.
Just as the Soul Restoring Pill slid down Sol's throat, the battle in the command post reached its end. The last Terminator of the First Company, after letting out a final, tragic roar, had his chest plate ripped open by the Lictor. His massive body collapsed, silenced forever.
The Lictor's cold compound eyes scanned the corpses littering the floor, then fixed on the only person still standing, Archer, and the prone Sol. It emitted a low hiss, lunging forward like a predator, ready to first end Archer's life, and then extract the information it craved from Sol's memory.
However, just as the Lictor was about to pounce on Archer, Sol Invictus, who should have been completely unconscious, suddenly raised his hand. That massive hand, encased in a Power Fist, grabbed the Lictor's attacking forelimb with unbelievable speed and strength, holding it in a death grip! His eyes, bloodshot from the toxin, now shone with unprecedented clarity and determination.
Looking at the horrifying pile of corpses and sea of blood in the command post, seeing his most loyal and courageous battle-brothers fallen to protect him, Sol's heart bled.
He should have immediately ordered his subordinates to retreat; that way, only a few people, including himself, would have died! But he knew even better that if this Lictor was determined to kill him, how could his other battle-brothers possibly stand by? Even if he gave a death order, they might not obey!
For a Space Marine, the shame of abandoning a battle-brother and fleeing was a hundred times worse than death.
A bestial growl erupted from Sol's throat, a mingling of extreme pain and fury. He used all his remaining strength to clamp down on the Lictor, giving it no chance of escape.
"For the Emperor! Detonate the Nuke!"