The next day, Raynor woke up on his creaking, broken mattress. The aches and pains radiating through his body felt like a minor punishment from the Emperor for the reckless heresy he'd committed the day before.
But he knew he couldn't wait. He had to act while Sarah—that terrifying creation torn from the Hive Mind's will—was still weak. If he waited too long, she might regain enough power to sever the System's link, or worse, that vast collective consciousness might engulf her once more.
Time was as precious as molten iron.
He summoned the System's guide—a pink, heart-shaped arrow that clashed horribly with the grimdark scenery—pointing him toward the deeper, darker layers of the Hive. Raynor changed into oil-stained work clothes and tucked his laser pistol and dagger into his waistband. Clutching a few tubes of bland nutritional paste, he followed the arrow into a labyrinth of metal alleyways.
The deeper he descended, the thicker the pulsating slime on the walls became. The sweet, rotten stench of fungal carpets grew so dense it felt like a physical weight against his skin. Eventually, the arrow pointed toward a main sewer hub in District 7.
He crouched low and crawled through a narrow vent. Suddenly, a forgotten vaulted hall unfolded before him. The towering dome dripped with viscous liquid, and the floor was submerged in ankle-deep, foul-smelling sewage. Only the fluorescent fungi clinging to the pipes emitted a faint, cold light, like the phosphorescence of a tomb.
Along the way, he scraped off some of the fungi and skewered several fat, wriggling pipe-slugs that fed on the waste. He even managed to find a discarded, half-leaked can of high-heat industrial lubricant. The "gifts" were so pathetic they were almost embarrassing, but he had no other choice.
The pink arrow began to flash rapidly, pointing toward a rusted, heavy gate that led to an abandoned water purification pool.
[WARNING: Target is on high alert. Multiple lower-tier Tyranid life signals detected.]
The cold notification made Raynor freeze. He peered through a gap in the rusted gate. Deep within the treatment pool, Sarah was curled in a corner, licking the ominous crystallized wound on her forelimb with a forked tongue. Scattered around her were the mangled, half-devoured remains of several giant mutant rats.
The most alarming change was the dozen or so "knife-insects" lurking in the shadows—Hormagaunts. Raynor speculated that Sarah, sensing her own vulnerability, had forcibly seized some unhatched spores from the Hive's local network and compelled them to hatch as a personal guard.
In the instant he observed her, Sarah's head snapped up. Her compound eyes locked onto the gate without hesitation. Simultaneously, the Hormagaunts twisted their bodies, their scarlet eyes fixing on his position. In the next second, a dozen black shadows lunged forward, bone claws tearing the air.
[Interactive range detected. Activate 'Forced Dialogue Protocol'?] Note: This operation consumes a large amount of the user's mental energy.
"Activate! Now!" Raynor roared. He had no doubt these Xenos would shred him in heartbeats.
A sharp, needle-like pain pierced his temples, as if a drill were churning through his brain. The swarming Hormagaunts froze mid-air, suspended by an invisible force. Sarah stood upright, her three-meter-tall frame letting out a pained, furious howl. An irresistible force yanked her body around to face Raynor.
[Stasis field generated. Maintaining this requires continuous mental energy.]
"Thank the Throne... the gaunts are part of her consciousness," Raynor gasped, his back soaked in cold sweat. He didn't dare delay, turning his attention to the pixelated dialogue box that appeared.
On the left was his portrait: a thin, black-haired young man with exhausted eyes. On the right was Sarah's "portrait": a hyper-realistic close-up of the Hive Warrior. Her carapace was jagged, her bone blades menacing, and the dazed look in her compound eyes was a chaotic mix of forced submission and instinctive rage.
[Raynor]: (Lifts the odds and ends wrapped in rags) "Listen! I mean no harm! I brought supplies."
[Sarah]: (Her mouthparts click unnaturally, producing a harsh grinding sound) "Hiss!" [System Translation]: Alert, Confused, Angry.
Raynor placed the package on the damp ground and slowly backed away. "We're tied together. You can feel it, right? Like two worms on a single string."
[Sarah]: (Her bone blades scrape the metal floor, murky fluid seeping from her wounds) "Hiss..."
[System Translation]: Deeply uncomfortable with independent state. The wound continues to cause intense pain.
Raynor pointed to her crystallized limb. "Can I help you? At least so we don't have to fight to the death for now?"
[Sarah]: (Her body jerks forward, making the portrait shake violently) "Hiss!!!"
[System Translation]: Strong drive to expel/kill. But mixed with a faint hesitation... a "wait and see" attitude.
Mental Strength: -8.
Hesitation! Even a sliver represented an opportunity. Raynor used his boot to push the package and the lubricant can closer to her. "This is a gift. If it's useless, you can turn me into biomass later."
Sarah stood frozen, her massive frame trembling from the conflict between the System's control and her own instincts. Finally, she succumbed to the incomprehensible power of the "Agreement." She extended an uninjured forelimb and used the tip of a serrated blade to pry open the tattered cloth.
Fluorescent fungi and slug remains rolled out. She lowered her head, her mouthparts acting like a high-efficiency shredder as she swallowed them whole. Then, she bit through the metal can and sucked up the viscous lubricant. The process was silent and terrifyingly efficient, marked by a hint of Xenos disdain.
[System Prompt]: Gift containing organic matter accepted. Energy value: Extremely Low. Favorability +1. [System Prompt]: Special item 'High-Heat Lubricant' accepted. Energy value: Low. Relieves hunger. Favorability +0.
[Initial Interaction Completed. Reward: Affection +5.] Unlocked [Dialogue] function: Limited to 3 uses per day. Consumes Spirit Points. [Current Favorability: -49]
[Warning: Mental strength below safety threshold. Mandatory Agreement lifting...]
A wave of dizziness washed over him, and Raynor nearly lost his balance. Sarah let out a low hiss, seemingly relieved, and turned away from him. She retreated to her corner, curling up once more to lick her wounds. The Hormagaunts retreated into the shadows, though several remained visible, their eyes watching the gate warily.
The stasis field vanished. Seeing that Sarah had no intention of continuing the attack, Raynor's nerves finally relaxed. He backed toward the gate, his voice hoarse. "I'll come again... with better gifts. I'll do my best to heal that injury."
He paused. "I'm calling you 'Sarah.' You don't mind, right?"
The Hive Warrior offered no reaction, treating him as nothing more than background noise. Raynor shook his head and left, taking the silence as a form of acquiescence. Only after he was well outside her territory did he slump against a transport pipe.
Excessive mental exertion had left him profoundly fatigued. A new task appeared on the interface:
[Daily Task: Daily Feeding (0/1)] Reward: Random Favorability +0~5
[Stage Mission: Assist target in alleviating injuries (Cleaning progress 0/10)] Reward: Unknown
Sarah's Status: HP 32/100 (Severely injured). Affection: -49.
"At least for today, I'm not biomass," he muttered, a gambler's glint in his eyes. Sarah was an extremely dangerous Xenos scourge, but if he could turn that power around... it might be the only way to survive the 41st Millennium.