Driven by Cassius' fury, the servos of the Iron Knight Terminator plate erupted with a mechanical roar that vibrated through the very deck-plates. Arcs of deep-blue electricity leapt from the head of his Thunder Hammer, ionizing the stale air and leaving a scorched trail in his wake.
His eyes were locked onto the nightmare that had just butchered his battle-brother. The target was within reach.
However, just as he prepared to deliver a crushing blow, the crimson behemoth turned its head.
Dozens of scarlet compound eyes—far more than a standard Hive Crone should possess—snapped into focus on the charging Sergeant. They reflected the green-and-steel outline of the Terminator, the dancing lightning of the hammer, and the burning blue eyes behind Cassius' visor.
The instant their gazes met, Cassius felt a psychic jolt like a silent thunderbolt.
"The probability of death is... 100%."
The prophecy spoken by Magos Cyrus in his cold, binary-strung voice exploded in the deepest part of Cassius' consciousness. The image replayed with agonizing clarity. Was this monster the "Death Messenger" the Omnissiah had revealed? The instrument of his inevitable end?
Fear did not register in his mind; he had been purged of such weaknesses centuries ago. Even faced with a death predicted with absolute mathematical certainty, Cassius did not falter. If this was his predetermined end, he would meet it with the hammer of the Iron Tenth.
He poured every ounce of the suit's reactor output into the strike. He intended to cave in that blasphemous skull, even if the resulting impact claimed his own life.
However, reality proved more absurd than any martyr's drama.
Moments before the collision, Sarah's massive purplish-red membranous wings flapped once—a thunderous crack of displaced air.
Whoosh!
The lift propelled her into the darkness above. Cassius' charge, carrying enough kinetic force to level a bunker, struck only empty air and the foul-smelling gust of her wake. He stumbled forward, his massive boots skidding as the immense inertia nearly threw him off balance.
He steadied himself, a look of grim astonishment hidden beneath his helmet. She had... dodged?
What chilled his blood was that the creature didn't even linger to mock him. She glanced down briefly, her multifaceted eyes filled with a predatory disdain, before banking away. She was following Raynor's specific directives.
"Prioritize the green cans and the mortals with the big guns," Raynor had instructed her. "Ignore the ones with the shields and hammers. Especially the bald, angry ones."
Though Cassius wore his helmet, the iconic Iron Halo shimmering behind his head—a relic of his rank and protection—marked him clearly. Sarah recognized the silhouette and obeyed her "King."
Thus, a bizarre and terrifying spectacle unfolded. A flying monstrosity, capable of slaying Terminators, began to treat the battlefield as a private hunting ground. She circled, swooped, and raided the Sons of Medusa's territory with surgical precision.
Her targets were unwavering: Astartes caught outside the defensive formation and the Skitarii crews operating the heavy anti-Titan arrays. She was as swift as a lightning strike, each dive accompanied by a sonic shriek that shattered eardrums. She moved like a ghost, finding the gaps in the overlapping fire-lanes that no mindless beast should have been able to perceive.
"Focus fire! Slay that shadow!" "She's banking left!" "Above you! Look above—!"
The vox-channel was a cacophony of rage and desperation. A hail of bolter rounds and energy beams chased the crimson shadow, weaving a web of death in the air. High-explosive shells struck her armor, and plasma scorched her hide, but the damage was not fatal.
Sarah's shell possessed an unnatural regenerative speed. More frustratingly, whenever she suffered a concentrated volley that actually breached her reactive plating, she did not flee. Instead, she would dive toward the fresh corpse of an Astartes.
Pfft! Her tearing claws would rip open the reinforced plate, extracting the nutrient-rich flesh within. She performed these acts of "sustenance" directly in Cassius' line of sight. To her, these demigod-warriors were the ultimate biological fuel—vessels of concentrated protein and genetic data.
"Beast!!!" Cassius' vision turned red with a literal blood-lust.
He pursued her relentlessly, his hammer crushing any lesser xenos in his path, his shield battering aside the swarms of gaunts that tried to anchor him. But he was a terrestrial warrior chasing a shadow of the clouds. He was being outmaneuvered at every turn.
Yet, amidst this suffocating despair, Cassius' mind—functioning like a high-end logic processor—began to capture anomalies.
He saw Sarah being attacked by other Tyranids. A Tyranid Warrior swung its bone-sword at her as she flew low; a cluster of Termagants fired their fleshborers at her wings. Sarah's response was decisive and brutal—she would bank mid-air and shred the "allied" xenos without a second thought.
In the Hive Mind, it was common for larger units to trample smaller ones out of sheer indifference. But for two synapse-level creatures to engage in lethal, intentional combat was an impossibility. The Hive Will did not permit such waste.
Unless... they were not serving the same Will.
"Abnormal Node Alpha..." Cassius whispered beneath his breath, a cold, knowing glint returning to his eyes.