If one sought a method to sustain long-term survival and cultivate the hive over generations, the relentless devouring of every world in sight was hardly the optimal strategy.
Yuki had once asked Yuno about her long-term plans, only to receive a blunt response: "Right now, I cannot even consume to my heart's content. How could I possibly plan for a future so distant?"
Yuki conceded the point. While the Tyranids within the galaxy were undeniably terrifying, much of their existential dread was anchored in the sheer hype of the primary armadas still drifting across the intergalactic void. The swarms currently active in the galaxy were formidable, but wiping out all organic life remained an arduous task. Thus, he had dropped the subject.
Now, however, the calculus had changed.
Yuki weighed their options carefully.
Yuno required a completely secure environment to bring her child into the world. Though virtually nothing in realspace could pose a genuine threat to her, taking unnecessary risks was foolish in a universe as volatile as Warhammer, where catastrophic anomalies occurred daily.
He suggested establishing a designated Tyranid sanctuary world on the galactic fringe, modeled after the structures built by Hive Fleet Tiamat.
Though Yuno was somewhat unenthusiastic about halting her rampage, she understood Yuki's concerns. Furthermore, her physical form was the only part of her bound to one location—her consciousness could still jump into other bio-fleets across the stars to wage war at will. It was hardly a true constraint.
Upon departing the Baal system, the Aether and Chronos fleets slipped past the boundaries of Imperium Nihilus, locating an uninhabited, isolated sector on the periphery of the Segmentum Obscurus.
"I suppose I should search for a suitable planet," Yuki mused.
"Search for a planet? What for?" Yuno asked, a playful grin breaking across her face.
Yuki shot her a puzzled look.
"Why go through the trouble when we can simply build one?"
Before he could process her words, Yuno assumed direct command of the fleet and issued an extraordinary directive across the synapse:
"Assemble, my bodies."
At her command, the entire Hive Fleet initiated a sweeping, majestic reconfiguration.
Massive Hive Ships began drifting toward one another, their organic hulls docking and interlocking until they formed a colossal, rough sphere. Smaller bio-vessels then altered their shapes, latching onto the outer shell of the primary core. Chitinous plates, calcified ribs, and sprawling tendrils fused every section into a single, cohesive planetary entity.
As the sphere expanded to staggering proportions, Yuki stared in stunned disbelief.
"This is..."
"A Tyranid planet—fascinating, isn't it?" Yuno explained lightly. "When short on energy or biomass for sub-light travel, we aggregate into these massive spheres and drift on pure inertia. We cannot exceed the speed of light in this form, but as I have always said, time is the one thing we possess in absolute abundance."
Watching a sizable celestial body manifest out of thin air before his eyes, Yuki struggled to find words. A sudden, chaotic thought crossed his mind.
"Tell me... when the main fleet arrives, if we encounter a world too heavily fortified for standard ground assault, could we synthesize a massive bio-planet like this and simply hurl it into the target?"
Yuno glanced at him, surprised, before running a series of rigorous tactical simulations in her mind.
"The resource efficiency would be suboptimal," she replied thoughtfully. "However, if you truly wish to see it, I can certainly fabricate a bio-planet of that scale for you to crash into something."
Three days later, utilizing roughly a quarter of the fleet's biomass alongside raw materials harvested from surrounding space and barren asteroids, a massive bio-planet hung complete in the void. Escort vessels orbited its surface, creating a visual profile strikingly similar to a Necron World Engine—though in sheer firepower, the World Engine still held a distinct advantage.
"Does this finally put your mind at ease, my love?" Yuno asked. "I intend to sleep within the core until the child is born."
"Sleep?"
"Do not worry. I will gestate a secondary avatar to accompany you, though it won't possess the same durability as this original body we've spent a century refining."
As she spoke, the four sub-entities gathered around them. Yuno pointed a sharp finger at them without hesitation.
"Listen closely, you four. Your sole directive is to safeguard both myself and my child. Should any harm come to either of us, your existence as independent sub-entities will be permanently revoked."
The sub-entities bowed their heads in quiet obedience. The Void Dragon then chimed in.
"If that is the case, am I free to roam? Protection is hardly my strong suit—I am far better suited for destruction."
"Do as you wish," Yuno replied coldly. "Just ensure you do not lead any troublesome foes back to my doorstep."
Yuki stretched his arms, turning back to her. "And what about me?"
"Come explore with me," her secondary avatar smiled. "How does that sound?"
"Sounds perfect."
---
Even in the grim dark reality of the Warhammer universe, wide disparities in quality of life existed.
The fortunate were born upon lush Garden Worlds; the unfortunate were born directly into meat-grinder warzones. The exceptionally lucky entered the galaxy as pampered aristocrats, while the wretched were born as mindless laborers or livestock.
The universe was inherently unfair.
On the Garden World of Anthea, within a sprawling, high-tier dining hall built to accommodate tens of thousands of elites, strange alien flora bloomed beside eerie, avant-garde sculptures.
Amby was fond of these off-world art pieces—their cold, lifeless aesthetic carried a subtle, delicate whisper of mortality.
"You're entertaining those morbid thoughts again," Yuki remarked, taking a seat opposite him. "I can see it plain as day in your eyes."
Amby smiled faintly, choosing neither to confirm nor deny the accusation. "And Miss Yuno? Has she grown tired of sightseeing?"
Yuki rested his chin in his hand. "She was feeling a bit exhausted, so she's resting."
"A friendly word of advice," Amby said smoothly, "Miss Yuno seems to attract a great deal of admiration wherever she goes. You shouldn't be too complacent."
"That level of provocation won't work on me, Amby," Yuki replied flatly. "You'd do best to drop those childish illusions."
Amby summoned a server—a young woman hailing from the planet's lower hive levels.
"This meat is far too tough," Amby noted, gesturing to his plate. "Bring a fresh cut."
The girl bowed nervously and hurried away.
Once she was out of earshot, Amby leaned forward. "Did you know? That girl is the secret sweetheart of a lower-tier noble. Shall we guess how far their little romance has progressed?"
"How utterly dull," Yuki scoffed. "If this is the sort of nonsense filling your head, I begin to question why I bothered keeping you around in the first place."
Yet despite his dismissive tone, Yuki understood Amby's nature. While Amby's tastes were vulgar and petty, when such vulgarity reached a critical threshold, it became an intriguing point of observation. It carried the distinct potential to draw the gaze of the Warp's ruinous powers. Keeping him close offered Yuki a rare, front-row seat to observe the slow, methodical process of human corruption.
"Oh? But my mind is also quite full of your lovely partner, Yuno—"
Before Amby's brain could even register the thought, his vision blurred. It was only when he saw his own ocular nerve and eye resting in Yuki's palm that the agonizing pain finally registered.
Yet he was utterly powerless to scream or thrash against the torment.
A suffocating blanket of psychic force pinned him to his chair, freezing every muscle in his body.
"If you've grown tired of living," Yuki whispered softly, leaning in close, "you can simply tell me. I'll even ensure your soul isn't left to rot in the Immaterium. Server, check please!"
With a subtle flick of his psychic power, Yuki altered the perception of the surrounding patrons, making it appear as though Amby was simply sharing a lighthearted laugh with his companion.
"Let's go, Mr. Pervert," Yuki said, rising from the table. "I suggest you refrain from testing my patience a second time."