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

Page 519

"I'm not hungry,"

Hades scratched his head, looking somewhat embarrassed at Herrera.

Herrera gave a malicious smile and lowered her voice.

"I know you and Karas went to another village to borrow food again today. It certainly wasn't for the two of you, was it?"

Hades coughed awkwardly twice. Primarchs are the kind of creatures that can devour an acre of land if you put them in a field; you can uproot them and eat them all.

"Eat up, eat up. If it weren't for you," Herrera shoved the porridge into Hades' hands, glancing back at her sister in the room, "we don't know if we would have survived."

Hades swallowed hard, looking at the porridge that was clearly not made from dishwater, which was slightly warm in his hands.

...He was indeed very hungry.

"Then it's better to be respectful than to obey."

He raised the bowl.

The warm liquid in his mouth gave off a comforting feeling, even though it carried the bloody smell of a foreign race. Hades roughly wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, the broken chitinous shell pricking his face.

"tasty."

His sense of taste, which had been completely destroyed by Barbarossa, clearly agreed with this.

Hades said, blinking as he stepped over Tyrone's corpse, his scythe like fangs.

...devour...

He gazed at the barren land, at the sky shrouded in mist year-round, where food was never enough... Bowls were scraped clean again and again, fields yielded poor harvests season after season; despair was a long and slow process.

That slow and prolonged hunger.

Food is always the most precious thing.

Above the void, the green-skinned space stations, deprived of ground command, crashed out of control into each other. Above the shimmering planetary light, within a safe distance, the Terran mothership hovered quietly.

It is thinking.

All psionic commands via the subspace have failed...

Immediately afterwards, a new batch of biological modules was delivered.

In the void, countless fleets are gathering, and on one of the ships, raging flames are flashing.

"[Hunger,] the fraudster said, [immerse yourself in the most primal pain and desire, for the logic of this world is to devour, Hades.]"

Even the Star Gods survive by devouring, devouring energy, devouring souls, and devouring each other.

The bio-pod whistled as it tore through the atmosphere, and the surviving greens shouted for their boss and jumped onto the black smoke-belching bomber.

The bombers haphazardly crashed into the biological pods in mid-air, causing chunks of flesh to explode in a bloody mess, raining down a shower of metal and blood.

The wind howled fiercely.

Pheromones were released in the form of gaseous particles. The leading node creature waved its strange wings, which rose up like membranes, but instead of flying, they shone bright yellow as a warning color and squeaked loudly.

The newly arrived swarm of insects began to gather.

The dense swarms of insects, covering the earth, began to gather, converging in the form of an army. An unseen black tide surged beneath their feet. These soulless insects whispered to each other, clumsily but gradually adapting to exchanging information.

After a short cry, the Tyranids launched their attack.

The monster that had been crawling and feeding beside the insect's corpse slowly raised its head.

He raised his hand, having dropped the scythe, and a violent arc of electricity shot up, darkness began to envelop him, and silvery droplets floated to the surface.

As lightning struck, the aroma of roasting meat filled the air amidst the lush green flashes.

The clouds and fog began to gather.

……hunger……

Hades blinked, staring at the roasted horse meat in his hand, his mouth watering uncontrollably.

He had long coveted the horses in the village, but the villagers wouldn't let him touch them.

Karas groaned as he tried to elicit sympathy for kebabs, but Hades remained unmoved.

On the other side, the Primarch, who had never eaten anything good, stared wide-eyed.

Thick clouds covered the sky, and between the layers of white clouds, rumbling thunder roared, and lightning struck the swarms of insects crowding the earth.

Countless bio-pods fell like rain, transforming into a fiery shower as they passed through the clouds, illuminating the long night like shooting stars.

With its long, sharp legs propped up, the mountain-like Insect Saint slowly rose up, shrieking as bright, blazing plasma gathered, forming a ball of light as large as a small cart.

Plasma erupted, piercing the darkness! It shot straight toward the sluggish monster!

Beyond where darkness and thunder gathered, space distorted slightly, and a dimness descended, unlike the impenetrable darkness, obscuring the gazes of the insects directed at him.

The plasma shrieked as it traversed countless spaces, a single line cutting to the other side, yet it seemed to hit nothing at all.

The Insect Saint hissed and subconsciously took a half-step back. It shook its massive head, trying to find the enemy. The fact that it was a few beats behind its own kind in information transmission made it even more uncomfortable.

Dark clouds rolled in, and the electric dragons peeked out. The ground beneath their feet began to tremble. The light brought by the sun was quickly swallowed by the clouds, and a vortex of darkness enveloped the Tyranids, also concealing the enemy's figure.

You feel hungry.

The fraudster said, "[The hunger that slowly rises makes you angry.]"

[You've come so far, for so long, yet even your initial, insignificant, and unique wish—your own—hasn't been fulfilled.]

...no harvest at all...

Hades, still a child, stood on tiptoe and glanced at the rice jar, only to find the bottom, already covered in dust, empty.

He began to understand the elderly people who used to hoard food at home.

This is a magnificent world, yet it cannot satisfy one man.

Cracks climbed up the earth, splitting open like parched farmland, while magma churned deep within the planet, and heat rose from the earth's depths.

He is very hungry.

The barren psychic connection of the Tyranids was utterly insufficient for him; those emaciated insects, their bodies devoid of a full and rich soul.

He needed to eat something else, or continue eating; his appetite was growing, but since waking up, he had never truly been full.

The still-living greens fell into the gap in the earth, and darkness quickly enveloped them.

not enough.

Not enough, he thought, not enough at all.

His tentacles reached out to the starry sky, devouring the power that gave him enough to conquer the rules. A dazzling orb of light emerged from the void and fell toward the ships that were continuously producing the Tyranids.

This made him even hungrier.

In a daze, he saw something, and Hades issued his command using radio waves.

Hades began to reminisce, reminiscing about the days when food was plentiful, a wonderful time... hazy and distant.

He was standing in the restaurant.

Hades blinked. He sat down at the dining table, in front of him a distorted version of the Mona Lisa, the woman's face completely painted black, like a bottomless black hole.

Mona Lisa is smiling at him.

Hades skillfully picked up his knife and fork. Sliced ​​green mushrooms were arranged on a white ceramic plate. The stems were thick and the caps emitted an enticing aroma, indicating that the mushrooms had been carefully cultivated.

On the other side, the buzzing insects made unpleasant noises, and only a little juice could be squeezed out of their fat bodies, which made Hades even more dissatisfied.

He waved his hand, trying to shoo them away.

Hades wondered if Mortarian or Magnus were still there. It seemed like he hadn't seen them in a long time. Were they alright? He felt hungry.

The radio waves were pulsating.

Lightning and flames ignited.

He remained hidden in the darkness.

The Tyranids hissed and roared, and he watched them scatter and then gather again in panic, like a real, terrified swarm of insects. He watched the insects intently.

Every Tyranid is searching for him. How can they possibly find him? The Star God possesses the ability to warp reality, and only the technology of the Necromancers of the cosmos can glimpse his presence... or perhaps a fleeting glance from the Warp, but as the Black Tide surges, even the Warp reluctantly withdraws its gaze.

This is the miracle created by the mad fantasy of the Lord of Mankind.

A star god who controls the laws of physics, and a black hole that devours the subspace—does the former emperor truly believe in the monster he created?

The fraudster chuckled, and the promises of the Warp Demigod seemed utterly powerless at that moment.

He teases the Burner fragments, who have long since lost their minds, deceiving the Tyranids with illusions and placing them in their proper places.

And of course... there was a little surprise too...

The fraudster saw the two adorable little ones, and this was the final blow from Hades, who had completely succumbed to desire. The fraudster received radio waves from the ground.

[…Blake Butcher, bring Magnus here.]

The fraudsters saw the farce on the small green boat, and the god of jackals raised his hand, thickening the curtain, and Magnus, who had turned back into stone, crashed onto the deck with a thud.

Blake bent down and picked up the psionic stone.

Mingzi clutched the wound in his abdomen and walked slowly but resolutely toward the shuttle docked on the deck.

Magnus's desperate cry still echoed.

Hades is acting strangely right now!!! Blake—! He wouldn't give such an order when he's lucid!!!

Blake's steps did not falter for a moment.

[What makes you any different from those Primarch's fallen offspring?! Black?! Black Butcher?! !!!]

[I discussed with you before that Hades's condition was off—you know exactly what state he's in—why did you still—!!!]

Blake struggled to push open the hatch and got in.

"Blind loyalty!!" the crimson giant roared.

Blake started the engine, and the thrusters roared.

The fraudster smiled, a pleasant surprise on his face.

He witnessed the massacre of the Tyranids. The earth cracked open, and the colossal insect-like creature was caught between the cracks, struggling to fall into the lava. Lightning, pillars of fire, and darkness reaped these insects together. Their sheer number was constantly consuming it, but not providing it with any energy.

Above those lifeless, green-skinned corpses, dreamlike orbs of light kept appearing among the Terran fleet, pulling them toward the earth.

After a violent jolt, the Terran ship carrying the Deceiver and the Burner began to slowly sink.

They fell to the ground together.

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

There was a knock on the door.

Hades, who was holding the bowl, paused.

“Go,” he said, focusing intently on the bowl in his hands.

An unfamiliar face entered, and he sat opposite Hades, draped in golden silk.

Are you hungry?

The fraudster asked.

Hades casually raised his eyes, glanced at Him as if He were a lunatic, and said nothing.

[I'm curious, what will I taste like?]

The fraudster said.

[I am merely devouring.]

Hades said.

I can't taste anything.

The first priority for survival is to stay alive; taste is merely an added bonus.

[I just want to survive and then prosper my race.]

The fraudster stared at Pluto, "[But you're very hungry now.]"

Starving to the point of being consumed by cravings.

Hades stared at His bowl.