((From the deeps, I summon... the Wall-O-Text, courtesy of Cluebat Inc.))
*The Tyrant wanders out of the CSE compound and to the pools. For the first time in its millennial existence, it is lost in thought.*
'She could have died. She could have actually died and judging by that last power spike she's still not out of danger yet. Why did the tiger do such an idiotic thing? What was he even running from? There were doctors everywhere to attend to her, and so was I! And so was I... That's it. How horribly, stupidly simple! I was THERE! But even so, what could he have possibly suspected me of!? That I would hurt her? HER?! Who never tried to harm me once, from all those who did not even even skip a beat to kill me on first sight? What could I possibly gain?! Power? In such a mad place it would spell my doom. There is no Hive here, and if I die she would have been my only hope of coming back... Pfah! As if my life even matters now, with her so weakened. She's weakened, isn't she. A weakened psyker. And if I could come here, so could the Warp, and with them Tzeench, Slaanesh, Nurgle and all the denizens of Hell itself. She's never faced daemons before, nothing of the runty "demons" from this place could hold a candle to even a Greater Daemon, let alone a Prince or the Four themselves...'
'I'm losing my mind... Heh... <<I>>, <<mind>>... Five days ago there wasn't even a <<me>> to go insane, merely a part of the whole that is the Hive, albeit a sneaky part, designed for the very purpose to out-think, not just out-hit Food. And in my stranding from the Hive I was forced to grow a <<me>>, just to survive and cope with things that any Tyranid has never faced before. And in surviving I have become Food myself. We are what we Eat, aren't we. Us most of all. But what if there is a Hive here, merely consuming another galaxy; just not here yet. If it exists, then this should work. And it will purge this place of any <<me>> from me, and her and everyone as well.'
*It stands over the pools and focuses, determined to dredge up its memories for the thought, the taste, the feel of that which brings the very end. The thing shapes itself in the Tyrant's thoughts, and slowly forms inside the depths of the pools, taking apart the dormant bio-titans nearby. And as it finally completes, it remains dead, motionless, an empty shell devoid of thought and life. Slowly, the Malanthrope, the endgame piece, unravels back into organic soup.*
*In insane glee, the Tyrant cries out in its own mind*
'It isn't there, is it? There's nothing there!! I am ALONE! Alone to live, alone to die as I, myself see fit! I am the only Hive there is! And I shall keep her safe. From myself, from any who would hurt her! She will be safe, until she is a Godling once again. She will be safe.'
*It sinks into its pools, its mind scrambled, its thought changing and reshaping themselves for its vast mind, now strained, to cope.*
Author
Topic: The Land of Lost Dimensions. (Read 637604 times)