While Scourges are devastating to ground targets, they are blunt instruments. They require open airspace to maneuver, and their explosive yield is so high that collateral damage is a guarantee. However, when dealing with massive entities that refuse to die, regardless of their psychic potency, they are the perfect solution.
The Imperium has used orbital naval batteries to silence Greater Daemons and Chaos Titans more than once. Why should the Swarm be any different? Abathur's worries about psychic vulnerability were academic. What can a Great Unclean One's psionic scream do against a kinetic strike from low orbit? Unless a Chaos God intervenes personally, there is nothing a sustained orbital bombardment can't solve. If the target still breathes, you simply keep firing until the planet itself cracks.
This was why the Overmind remained unbothered by the arrival of the seven Great Unclean Ones. He maintained absolute air superiority. To him, this battle was a leisure activity—a live-fire test of the Swarm's local combat efficiency.
"Rain Father? Is this a joke?" the Overmind mused. "Does Nurgle's second-favorite pet truly think he has a seat at the table with the Ruler of the Swarm?"
The death of the first daemon was only the prelude. The Brutalisk (Savage Beast) pivoted on its multiple limbs, charging the remaining six. The second Great Unclean One stepped forward, hefting a massive Plague Sword—a rusted greatblade capable of infecting even ceramite and steel.
"I hold no grudge, little beast," the daemon gurgled. "Simply go into the Father's loving embrace."
The daemon swung the massive sword with enough weight to level a hab-block. However, the Brutalisk was far more agile. It used its primary scythe-limbs to parry the flat of the blade, redirecting the strike into the dirt.
"Oh? You want to nick the beast, infect it, and turn it into a Nurgle puppet?"
It was a valid strategy. If a warp-plague could overcome the Brutalisk's immune system and colonize its nervous system, even the Overmind might lose connection to the unit. But before the Swarm can be subverted, it will be terminated by its peers. The Scourges were already circling above, waiting for any sign of corruption.
The Brutalisk lunged, using its lower talons to impale the daemon's bloated midsection. Much like an Ultralisk tossing a tank, the Brutalisk hoisted the massive daemon into the air. It opened its cavernous maw to bite the creature's head off, but the Great Unclean One dropped its sword and caught the Brutalisk's jaws with both hands, straining against the raw biological power.
"Hehehe, let's give you a little 'refreshment'."
Just as the daemon thought it was winning the struggle, the Brutalisk exhaled a high-pressure stream of concentrated acid directly into the daemon's face. While a Great Unclean One is largely indifferent to corrosion, the sentient maggots and parasites covering its body were not. They dissolved into a foul-smelling soup instantly.
"A bath in acid," the Overmind remarked. "Only a daemon of Nurgle would find that ironic."
Enraged, the daemon delivered a massive headbutt that momentarily dazed the Brutalisk. "You do not deserve to be part of the family! Die!"
The Great Unclean One was so focused on the melee that it ignored the high-pitched buzzing from above. Another plasma detonation rocked the street. This time, the Brutalisk was too close; it was caught in the Scourge's blast.
The second daemon was vaporized, painting the surrounding ruins green with ichor and fragmented remains. The Brutalisk staggered back, its chitinous plates shattered and several limbs broken from the friendly fire.
"1v7 is a bit much for a lone Brutalisk, especially with Scourges acting as the 'support.' Let's drop some Transfusion Queens to patch it up."
As the Brutalisk began to regenerate, the other Great Unclean Ones closed in. Rotigus, however, did not join the hunt. He remained stationary, chanting. The seventh plague intensified; the rain turned into a torrential downpour of green sewage. The liquid contained a spiritual rot that withered the Zerg Creep on contact, though the combat units held out through sheer regenerative spite.
"Rain Father, is it? Let's see how you handle a real storm."
In the void above, the Leviathan adjusted its posture. One of its gargantuan tentacles, miles long, descended through the atmosphere like a spear of god.
Rotigus looked up, startled, and raised his scepter of gnarled wood. A massive surge of psychic rot blasted upward, causing the tip of the Leviathan's tentacle to wither and crumble like ancient bark.
"Oh? You can handle a poke?" The Overmind's tone sharpened. "How about this?"
Rotigus watched as the Zerg units around him suddenly scattered in all directions. He didn't understand why until the sky turned white.
From the Leviathan's primary weapon pore, a Bio-Plasmic Proton Cannon discharged.
By the time Rotigus realized the atmosphere was igniting, it was too late. The beam slammed into the town with the force of a tactical nuke. The impact vaporized half the settlement instantly, leaving a crater thirty meters deep where the Rain Father had stood.
The four Great Unclean Ones who had been cornering the Brutalisk stopped in their tracks, staring at the smoking void where their leader used to be.
"Oops. Looks like you couldn't handle the 'generosity' of a capital ship. What a pity for Nurgle's favorite."
Some might call it a lack of martial honor—using a moon-sized organism's main gun to win a duel. The Overmind just called it efficiency.