Yeah, should they still transform?
The player referred to as the captain fell into a brief hesitation. They were still some distance away from Typhus. If they transformed now, setting aside the loss of stealth, would they even be able to charge all the way over? And if they didn't, would they just have to return empty-handed?
In the split second he got distracted, a tall Death Guard seized the opening, planting a heavy warboot violently into the captain's chest.
BANG!
The sheer force sent the captain flying through the air in an arc, landing—by a bizarre stroke of luck—right across the engagement line and crashing heavily right in front of Typhus, who was currently locked in a standoff with Sicarius.
Typhus looked down at the blood-spitting Helldiver at his feet in surprise.
Then, letting out a malicious chuckle, he used his massive scythe to hook the captain's back, hoisting him into the air like a chick, dangling him right in front of Sicarius.
Sicarius, who had been preparing to launch a thunderous strike, was forced to check his momentum and adjust his sword's trajectory, his power sword missing the Helldiver's scalp by inches to avoid cutting down an innocent Helldiver.
Taking a step back, Sicarius glared furiously at Typhus, gritting his teeth: "Using a mortal as a shield? You insult a warrior's honor, Typhus!"
"Honor? That is a luxury for the living," Typhus scoffed, about to deliver a mocking retort about the foolish pedantry of the False Emperor's dogs.
However, the seemingly dying captain dangling from the scythe suddenly had a radical change in his expression.
The moment he had been kicked across the field right next to Typhus, fear was the last thing on his mind—he was ecstatic!
There would never be a better opportunity than this! Talk about door-to-door delivery! At such close range, if he unleashed it now, he might actually deal massive damage to this boss!
Without a second's hesitation, while still suspended in mid-air, he slammed down on the hidden injection device inside his armor, initiating the high-concentration Panacea administration protocol.
Within mere seconds, right before everyone's eyes, the Helldiver's body underwent a terrifying flesh-and-blood mutation.
His armor ruptured instantly as pink muscles expanded like fermenting dough, his bones breaking and resetting with a stomach-churning crunch. Countless tentacles burst from his back, eyes spawned randomly across his skin, and a massive, fanged maw ripped open across his abdomen.
In the blink of an eye, he transformed from a human into a wildly twisted monster radiating chaotic energy—a massive Chaos Spawn!
The scene unfolded too quickly and far too suddenly.
Apart from the other player squad members who knew what was coming, everyone else was left completely dumbfounded.
Even Typhus was stunned. The scythe in his hand went from holding a Helldiver to merely impaling a giant mutant beast, leaving even this Chosen of Nurgle momentarily at a loss.
Cato Sicarius was the first to react.
Seeing an ally who was a heroic warrior just moments ago instantly reduced to an unspeakable, sacrilegious monster, blood rushed to the second captain's head.
Furious, he pointed his power sword straight at Typhus, letting out a deafening roar: "You vile heretic! You used sorcery to turn him into a Chaos Spawn!!!"
Typhus: ?
The other players: ?
The captain who had just turned into a Spawn and was trying to adapt to his new body: ?
The first to act wasn't the outraged Sicarius, nor the bewildered Typhus, but the newly minted Chaos Spawn captain.
Though his field of vision was now fragmented, his mind was still operating at full tilt. From a thick limb sprouting from what was roughly his former left ribcage, a sharp, pale bone spike snapped out, thrusting violently toward Typhus at point-blank range with an ear-splitting howl.
CLANG!
Typhus reacted with extreme speed, jerking his scythe back to block the strike with its shaft. The collision of bone spike and metal sent a vibration through Typhus's arm.
The mutated captain instinctively rolled several misaligned eyes toward Sicarius nearby, screaming internally:
'Go! Now's the time! I'll draw aggro, you deal the damage! Pincer him!'
If Sicarius seized this moment to launch a strike from the flank, Typhus—currently blocking the heavy bone spike—would take a massive hit, one that might even decide the outcome of the battle.
But Sicarius didn't move.
The Second Captain watched the internal brawl between the two "monsters." Far from charging in, he retracted his blade, drew back to a safe distance, and held his power sword across his chest, observing the chaos with a cold gaze.
In the tenets of the Adeptus Astartes, non-humans deserved only death; he would never fight shoulder-to-shoulder with a Chaos Spawn.
The captain felt a surge of frustration, but he had no time to complain as Typhus shunted him off with brute force.
Right at that moment, a gut-wrenching scream echoed from the far side of the battlefield.
"AAAHHH! For the Emperor! Get... GET OUT OF MY BODY!!"
Seeing his health bar hit rock bottom while on the verge of being finished off by a Death Guard Plague Marine, a player decisively injected himself. Drawing inspiration from his captain's encounter, he thought: If Sicarius misinterprets it, let's make the misunderstanding even deeper!
Accompanied by that agonizing shriek, the player's body ballooned like a balloon, turning into a tentacle-lashing Chaos Spawn in an instant and swatting the Plague Marine in front of him into the air.
That scream acted like a signal, turning on a switch across the line.
Before long, the remaining players all began "failing to hold on."
"Ah! My hands! This... this profane power... NO!!"
"Emperor forgive me! Damn this cursed sorcery!!"
"It hurts! IT HURTS!! What have you traitors done to me?!"
Each player screamed more piteously than the last, their acting so exaggerated it would bring a tear to any onlooker's eye. It was as if they were truly enduring some irresistible dark curse, waging a desperate final struggle against the force corrupting their souls.
Watching these scenes of "loyal defenders falling victim to dark arts," Sicarius's eyes bloodshot instantly, rage practically venting from his armor's exhaust pipes.
He whipped his head around, locking eyes with Typhus, and snarled through grit teeth: "Inhuman monsters! You dare cast such a vicious mass-mutation curse on these valiant mortals?! Will you not even spare their souls?!"
Though Typhus was wearing a helmet, anyone could feel his utter bewilderment and injustice.
He certainly wasn't about to take the blame for something he hadn't done. Besides, this chaotic, unstructured mutation—reeking of the Architect of Fate's style—was a outright insult to Nurgle's holy blessings!
"I didn't—" Typhus tried to refute, attempting to explain that this was not the Death Guard's doing.
Before he could finish, the captain's bone spike slammed down once more with a whistle, cutting Typhus's explanation short in his throat.
"ROAR!! (Cut the chatter and show us your health bar already!)" an unintelligible roar rumbled from the captain's twisted maw.
At the same time, the other Death Guard were thrown into disarray by these suddenly erupting, bizarrely varied Chaos Spawn. The player-turned-Spawn fought with zero honor or pattern, flailing and thrashing like rabid dogs.
The Ultramarines, who had been at a disadvantage, caught a breather. They watched in sheer bewilderment as the battlefield degenerated into a total free-for-all between Chaos and Chaos: a horde of Poxwalkers and Plague Marines wrestling with a group of wildly improvised Chaos Spawn, bringing the chaos to an absolute peak.