Warhammer: I don't want to become a stinky can!

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Drip, the convulsing blood splattered a few drops of blood onto the deck of Tarasin.

"……What's wrong?"

[Typhons] stood up unsteadily. It seemed to be raining outside the ship. He saw the Endless One beside him staring in disbelief. Tarasin trembled as he reached out and pointed to the command screen.

"You...you...you never imagined Tyron would look like this?"

"?"

【Typhons】Looked up and saw a drawing that looked like a child's scribbles on the command screen, like a large black rag that emitted a dim fluorescent color had been thrown directly onto a pale purple piece of paper.

"The map is broken? How am I supposed to read it?"

[Typhons] frowned, wondering if the Endless One had lost his mind. He then subconsciously turned his head and saw a pale purple light flashing past the observation window.

"Your ship... can still be launched? Where exactly are we now?"

Tarachin remained silent, only trembling.

Finally, the Endless One's soft voice reached Typhon's ears, far more piercing than the sound of a nuclear explosion.

"Fuck you...this is fucking...we're in space right now, fat guy."

?! !! !! !!

[Typhons] was about to retort, but then suddenly realized something, and he took a step back, his face turning ashen.

"I...I don't understand."

“I don’t understand either—” Tarasin said hoarsely, “but Hades is now surrounded.”

It points to that large rag that [Typhons] thought it was.

..........................................

Since its birth.

It then plundered.

It then devoured it.

It was endowed with a certain intelligence, a mechanism that could self-iterate, and the ability to reproduce and grow by devouring. In a daze, after countless iterations, it became aware of "itself".

The earliest memories are hazy and blurry, the whole world is distorted and dazzling. Compared to its own barren memories, its flesh and blood and genes are much thicker, engraved with countless pieces of information and wisdom for its use. As long as it records, it will never forget.

But it also forgot that on its vast journey, the food that had once struggled to survive hurled vicious spears at it, a plague that spread through genetic information—but it ultimately resolved the problem; a plague does not take away all life in nature.

It has encountered countless enemies, pure energy states, pure information states, higher and lower forms, the only thing they have in common is the final outcome: the last leg of the meal on the plate is a mouth full of fangs.

It has all been resolved.

It devours everything it encounters, using their flesh and blood to enlarge its body, and using their intelligence to grow sharp claws. It devours bodies, wills, and technology.

It has been evolving, not only in its physical form and weapons, but also in its vast and chaotic will. It has been spreading its genes among different biological races, merging with them, and sharing the dreams within their tiny neurons.

It devours specific individuals, and its cells faithfully mimic their thoughts, meticulously recording every instance of mental anguish and pleasure.

But the more it evolves, the more it thinks, and the more it plunders, the purer it becomes.

The convergence of countless divergent thoughts ultimately reveals its inherent superiority and purity, making it even more dispersed.

In a game of survival, only the savagest beasts will prevail.

Only individuals like it will reap the rewards of ultimate survival, while the rest of the races will tread the path of self-destruction.

But it's not powerful enough.

In the third star system of its journey, it devoured some strange creation with three pairs of segmented feet and two pairs of wings, thousands of tiny eyes converging into compound eyes, and a hard chitinous carapace covering most of its body.

This became the most extensive cellular matrix that would later form its body.

It continued to evolve, but remained stagnant in the large-scale conversion of mass and energy. It had wasted too many stars and too many delicacies that emitted light and heat, but each devouring still could not bring it any answers.

The efficient conversion of mass and energy, and the biological utilization of pure energy, are still more profound concepts. Even in the course of civilization, this is a fruit near the top of the pyramid.

But this time it saw it.

In a corner of the Virgo Supercluster, within the Local Group, it discovered a strange galaxy inhabited by more than one extremely advanced civilization, where the intensity of warfare was extremely high, and there was even a twin world in a separate dimension.

After conquering the Andromeda Galaxy, it will extend its reach to this strange galaxy—the Milky Way.

The first sight already filled the beast with a kind of neurotic joy; a vast, raging energy entity was quietly exiled beyond the Milky Way, making it even more aware of something...

However, given the sheer size of the market, any opinion will appear as vague and insignificant as a dream.

Devour normally, plunder normally, spread your tentacles normally, until you see Him.

A pure biological entity that has partially transformed into an energy state.

An authority similar to itself.

It wants to... swallow this key that unlocks its evolution lock.

Devouring, assimilating, and decomposing—these are all its methods.

So it looked at Him and hissed... hissed...

..........................................

Endless killing.

Endless killing.

Can't kill them all?!

The endless flesh and blood were as vast and boundless as the void. For these writhing, twitching chunks of flesh that spewed plasma and venom from their fissures, life and death were no different. Death was merely the dimming of the connections between nerves. But as long as the great entity they formed still existed, they would continue to exist.

They wriggled, squeezed, and felt each other.

Darkness churned, carrying a violent power, rapidly eroding the flesh and blood that enveloped it. The darkness it formed grew ever deeper and more profound, reflecting not a ray of light, appearing more like an empty void—

It is no longer a color, but a trap, a dent, a cave leading to nothingness.

The sickle fell.

Hades exists, and His senses perceive that colossal being, that absurd existence that is twisting and writhing. The individual named "Hades" raises his scythe again and again, and cracks unfold from beneath the blade, tearing away flesh and will time and time again.

But that distorted existence was so vast that it was beyond His perception, yet this existence was also dull—because of His vastness, His dullness and sluggishness were unimaginable.

The beings that make it up are torn apart by darkness and sink into a bottomless river, yet no one hears their lament; this creature is so dull it is almost terrifying.

Hades felt its gaze.

Carrying the most primal desires and greed...

hunger……

Tyron's instincts do not include satiety.

This being is currently trying its best to include Him in the mass that makes it up, forming a twisted stomach with absolute mass in the physical universe. It has succeeded, but digestion has become extremely difficult.

It can shatter a fragment of a star god, but it cannot transform it into something digestible.

Meanwhile, the prey is not yet dead; He is still alive and filled with rage. The hunter, swallowed by the beast, will eventually burst out of its belly.

Hades felt hungry, utterly hungry. His power came from devouring, and he had fought for too long. He was starving and had to try things that went far against his instincts.

The darkness, struggling amidst twisted flesh and blood, dripped saliva, each drop of pitch black like a rift in space, seeping into the writhing bones and blood, devouring them.

It devours absolute matter, low density, inefficient, a drop in the ocean, but it's still better than nothing.

It was as if a rift had opened, the darkness stopped, and then, like a waterfall overflowing from a mountain stream, the dark waters poured in, trying to submerge the bodies of the insect swarm as much as possible.

The relationship between eating and being eaten has become so clear that it made Hades chuckle in disbelief.

Compared to His previous enemies, Tyrion was so pure as to be almost transparent.

They remained entangled and locked in a stalemate, where time had no meaning until one side gave up and turned to flee, breaking the stalemate—until their energy was exhausted to the point of being unable to sustain their devouring, until their mass was worn down to the point of being unable to sustain their feeding.

Finally, in the utter silence, amidst the gushing gastric juices of the Tyranids, and in the subtle twitches of those muscle fibers, Hades heard that discordant noise.

From far to near, from small to large.

It spoke.

Noisy, noisy, it seems to be searching for the right words, for words that Hades is familiar with, but in fact it doesn't need to do so. Any words will be deciphered by Hades after the second utterance.

Even so, this slow-witted fellow was still searching for the right pitch on his own.

Finally, it found the tiny intelligence at the end of the nerve fiber, that came from the gene thief.

The attack continued, but Hades witnessed a scene that disgusted Him: the being, a higher dimension composed of fleshy specks, was deforming. It stretched out some tentacles and clumsily shaped a higher-dimensional projection simulating a human or a star god.

Or perhaps his attempt failed, because what Hades saw was a monster, an entity that was neither human nor a star god, neither human nor divine, terrifying and absurd.

Then,

Hades chuckled. He realized that Tyrande wasn't simulating humans communicating with Him; this foolish beast was imitating Him, like a mirror—humans and the stars weren't considered by Tyrande, and it only cared about Him.

He cares about the flesh and blood and evolution that He brings.

He felt offended, and the next moment, pitch-black lightning struck down, like a rift tearing apart an entire dimension. The blasphemous being composed of bloated tentacles was destroyed, leaving not a trace.

'...'

Hades sensed that Tyrion seemed to pause for a moment, like stagnant ripples spreading outwards from the initial broken tentacles, but in reality, the insects were still moving, looking at Him like scales blown by the wind.

'choose……'

It revealed its words to Hades with a sigh, but the sound actually contained much more meaning.

Fate, choices, and rebirth.

'Devour...'

Assimilation, common progress, immortality.

The bloated Tyren looked at Him, emotionless, purely greedy, and relentlessly.

Tyran doesn't believe that the creatures it devours are dead. On the contrary, it believes that every single one of them has contributed to a greater evolution and a greater expedition. It lives on with their flesh and wisdom and eliminates the evils in their civilization.

Along its path forward, more than one race has chosen to join it directly, joining a future where they can survive longer.

Digestion remained extremely difficult, and Tyren felt his mass rapidly diminishing. Simultaneously, he felt a stinging pain on both sides of his body outside the entire solid flesh galaxy.

Besides the silvery-white robot, green fungi are also attacking it.

Further away, the energy entity it was avoiding was also advancing rapidly, and the spreading energy was already causing it subtle pain—stable genetic transcoding was becoming more difficult.

It should leave, but it cannot abandon the seemingly within-reach prey. This is the last piece of the evolutionary puzzle. Two highly compatible individuals will merge and evolve into an even more glorious creature.

After evolving, they will be completely unstoppable.

It will bring a true catastrophe to all races.

'continue……'

Survival, coexistence, interdependence, and mutual dependence.

Devouring is not death, not the end of life, but the beginning of a new life, the start of reincarnation. All that is devoured never truly dies; their will will live on in Tyran's tentacles, slumbering within flesh and ganglia.

When necessary, they can be replicated by Tyrion and given a new life.

As for the more powerful individuals, Tyran allows them to occupy most of it, after all, it only pursues survival and the continuation of its species. Thousands of years ago, it was not what it is today, and it was not composed of "insects".

But millions of years later, the other races have come to accept that "Terren" represents an endless sea of ​​insects.

It doesn't care about these things.

As long as it continues, as long as the race endures, it doesn't care what it ultimately becomes—

This is something that other races cannot understand; they stubbornly use extremely subtle characteristics to distinguish races.

Tyronn doesn't care.

Continuation is Tyrannosaurus, Tyrannosaurus is continuation, continuation, devouring, reproduction.

This is Tyronn.

Therefore, it is more tolerant and enthusiastic towards individuals with similar views.

'Integration.'

It spoke its own voice, telling the pitch-black entity that the darkness that tore the entire world apart caused it pain and trembling, but also filled it with ecstasy, which proved that it too could become such a being.

As long as it devours...

No, no, it had already devoured Him, but could not digest Him. The prey struggled in its not-so-sturdy stomach, causing it pain.