Chapter 365 – The Final Battle, The Frenzied Spinning Titan Drill!

In the void—

Several warships slowly approached the Tyranid Kraken, entering its potential engagement range.

But the creature showed no signs of aggression. In fact, it seemed… pleased.

"Perhaps… this strategy might finally work…" the Hive Mind's consciousness was full of hope.

It hoped that through bodily gestures, the Kraken could be guided near the Savior's flagship, serving as a medium to establish contact.

Zzzzt!

Just as it tried to initiate a new gesture—

The warships suddenly opened fire.

Plasma blasts lanced out, striking the unsuspecting Kraken.

???

The Hive Mind was stunned.

The plasma froze the Kraken's muscles, sending it into violent spasms—it had no chance to resist.

Such a sudden strike—it was downright dishonorable!

Because of the creature's unknown nature, the Savior had ordered its capture first—for future research or communication.

But capturing a massive living bio-ship in space was no simple task.

Fortunately, the Redeemer Fleet had experimented with such scenarios years ago and had developed specialized retrofitted vessels for this purpose.

Now they were ready.

Whoosh—

Two heavily modified capture ships surged forward, launching massive harpoon-like spikes attached to thick alloy cables.

The barbed harpoons embedded deep into the Kraken's flesh, and powerful electrical currents surged down the cables, keeping it paralyzed.

"This is a misunderstanding! I came to negotiate—!"

The Kraken emitted unintelligible screeches as it struggled, but the continuous electrical shocks left it helpless.

"No! I'm here for peace!"

Its thrashing intensified.

But the capture ships only increased the current, dragging the creature further and further away from the battlefield…

—

Core chamber.

In the heart of the Hive Ship, the ancient, wrinkled Hive Mind fell into deep contemplation.

Its attempt at negotiation had failed—again.

Truthfully—

A truth it had long refused to admit resurfaced.

Its life and freedom were in grave danger.

After everything the Tyranids had devoured—after all the human lives lost—the Savior would never allow it to simply flee.

Worse—

That being wanted more than just its bio-tech. He wanted it—all of it. The Hive Mind. The entire Leviathan Hive Ship.

Further analysis of gathered memory-data confirmed it—

The Savior's ambition surpassed that of any human in the galaxy.

He wished for humanity to rise and dominate not just the galaxy, but beyond.

He sought the conquest of all xenos. He sought to subjugate the Tyranids—enslave them just like the Orks and the daemons.

"That… will NEVER happen!"

The Hive Mind's roar echoed with fury and dread.

With extinction looming, it resolved to make its final stand. It would resist to the end!

The synapse-brain array began analyzing the Redeemer Fleet's tactics and identified exploitable weaknesses.

It immediately adjusted the bio-fleet's formation to counter the enemy strategy.

"The Savior's fleet is not without flaws. Just these tactics alone are not enough to cut off the swarm's retreat…"

Confidence returned to the Hive Mind.

Tyranids were tenacious. They would seize any opportunity to survive and grow.

—

On the Dreamweaver's bridge—

The tension reached its peak.

"Type II Neuro-Stimulant!"

Volradi's face was drenched in sweat. Exhausted beyond belief, he ordered another injection of stimulants to maintain clarity.

The Narwhal Vessel had reached the airspace near the Hive Ship.

The battle was at its turning point.

Worse—

The Leviathan bio-fleet had adjusted its tactics, seemingly responding to their own.

The pressure on Volradi intensified.

But he gritted his teeth and pressed on, issuing more commands and adjusting their formations and strike patterns.

On the starmap hologram—

Fleet indicators shifted rapidly. Occasionally, lights blinked out.

Every subtle shift in the hologram represented ferocious ship-to-ship combat—a battle group destroyed in a flash.

Within just a few hours, both sides suffered the highest casualties of the entire war.

Even though the Dreamweaver was stationed further back, they could still see distant explosions lighting up the stars.

The flames of dying ships lit the anxious faces of every crew member.

Eden stood silently. No expression, no movement—deliberately lowering his presence.

Now was not the time to apply pressure. That would only make things worse.

The Redeemer Fleet's losses were climbing.

But the Tyranids were suffering even more.

He just wanted it all to end soon.

"Third Fleet, focus fire on the target!"

Finally, Volradi completed his final maneuver.

He ordered the fleet to punch a hole in the Tyranid lines, allowing the Redeemer Third Fleet to break through and concentrate fire on the last Narwhal Vessel.

Victory was in sight.

But then—

A previously hidden Tyranid strike force burst from the left flank—right into the Redeemer Third Fleet's firing path!

Everyone held their breath.

But the outcome was the one no one wanted to see.

Though they eliminated the attackers, the fleet's remaining firepower was no longer sufficient to deal a killing blow.

The Narwhal Vessel, damaged but alive, continued drifting toward the Hive Ship's protective zone.

Worse—

The Tyranid flesh-wall defenses were closing in.

The Third Fleet had no time to launch another attack.

"The Third Fleet… can't finish the job."

Volradi slumped against the command station, eyes full of guilt and despair.

He had failed the Redeemer Fleet. He hadn't delivered the expected results.

It might've been the greatest defeat of his life—and it was irreversible.

Suddenly, a hand landed on his shoulder.

He turned—

It was the Savior.

Eden stood with the same calm, even with a trace of concern in his eyes.

Volradi's eyes welled with tears. "My lord Savior, I—"

Eden raised a hand, stopping him gently.

"You've done more than enough. Everything is within expectations."

Volradi was being a bit too hard on himself.

Truthfully, the blockade plan had already gone further than anyone had hoped.

It hadn't hit the ideal scenario, but it was far from a failure—it was a solid upper-middle success.

New forces would soon replace the Third Fleet to finish the job.

Eden looked at him with genuine appreciation.

"You laid the foundation for our victory. Your merit is unmatched. Now, what you need most… is rest."

The prolonged stress had pushed Volradi's body to the brink.

Admiral Kaes soon resumed command.

Volradi was escorted away by medical Sisters to prevent any further harm.

Eden stepped toward the observation dome. The Chapter Masters followed.

Together, they watched the last Narwhal Vessel creeping toward the Hive Ship.

Tension returned.

Tyberos frowned. "My lord Savior… you're not really going to let that thing escape, right?"

Before, during the battle for Baal, his best-case scenario was simply repelling the Tyranids without losing the planet.

But these recent days had changed him.

The Chapter Master of the Carcharodons now wanted total extermination. He wanted this threat erased—and all the glory that came with it.

"It's all about to end…" Eden's voice remained steady.

"By the Emperor… Leviathan won't escape."

Because—

His trump card had arrived.

The one he'd kept hidden until now.

Everyone followed his gaze out into the stars—yet saw nothing unusual.

But then—

In the void—

Several cloaked torpedoes advanced behind the Narwhal Vessel, moving slowly.

Inside them, faint purple lights pulsed—psyker beacons meant for navigation.

Suddenly, the space around them rippled violently.

Nearby bio-ships reacted instantly, launching attacks that destroyed the torpedoes.

But it was already too late.

WAAAGH——!

A massive drill suddenly burst from the void.

A colossal space fortress crashed into the battlefield.

Its presence was overwhelming.

The Savior's hidden weapon, constructed with vast resources—

The Rogg Fortress, a Greenskin battle satellite nearly 100 kilometers wide—had arrived.

The sheer scale of it dwarfed even the Leviathan Hive Ship.

Its emergence shattered the Tyranid formation.

One unlucky bio-ship was impaled by the fortress's core structure—the Rog Kong, whose titanic adamantine drill pierced clean through it. The creature thrashed and howled in agony.

The Narwhal Vessel began desperately fleeing the region.

More Tyranid ships charged toward the Rog Fortress, trying to shield their navigator.

They believed if they could just stall the fortress, they could save the navigator—after all, a weapon that big couldn't be fast.

But—

HUMMMMM!!!

The Rog Fortress's ten-kilometer-long adamantine drill began spinning madly.

It was time for its devastating charge to begin…

...

Aboard the Dreamweaver's bridge—

"By the Emperor—what the hell is that?!"

The Chapter Masters couldn't hold back their shock.

Not because of the massive space fortress itself—after all, the Imperium had even larger star-fortresses.

Like Galatan in Ultramar, whose weapons alone could rival multiple sector fleets and had enough firepower to annihilate entire planets.

The Imperium, while often plagued by inefficiency, still had deep reserves.

What stunned them was the Rog Kong on the Ork fortress.

"By the Emperor… why does that statue on the fortress look like the Sav—"

Tyberos's eyes widened. He almost shouted—but choked back the words at the last moment, not daring to finish the thought.

It was just… too similar.

Everyone felt it. That crude alien fortress structure looked disturbingly like their Savior.

But none dared speak the thought aloud.

That would be heresy.

Who would dare suggest a statue on an Ork fortress resembled the Primarch of Hope, the Savior of Mankind?

Such a statement would be an unforgivable blasphemy.

Of course, it only resembled him a little—there were many differences.

Just as they tried to suppress their thoughts, a fresh wave of gasps escaped them.

The Ork fortress launched its attack.

Twin cannons mounted in the statue's arms opened fire, but most shocking of all was the gargantuan drill spinning madly beneath its… less-than-modest structure.

Bio-ships smashed apart under its rotating fury, bursting into chunks of sizzling meat.

Blasphemy. Utter blasphemy!

Not just the Chapter Masters—even the Chaplains and Ecclesiarchy priests nearly fainted.

They clutched their sacred texts and muttered fervent prayers, trying to erase this vision from memory.

But not a single one of them dared speak to the Savior about it.

"Hiss… that thing's kinda lewd… this is definitely crossing the line…"

Eden stared solemnly at the battlefield, pretending not to notice, silently grumbling in his heart.

Whether the thing actually looked like him or not—this was absolutely something that could never be acknowledged publicly. It would destroy a Primarch's dignity.

And the PR wouldn't be great either.

Being associated with Orks? Absolutely not ideal.

Still, as a Primarch, unless he said it himself—no one would dare bring it up.

Even Roboute Guilliman, the Regent of the Imperium, had been rumored to be entangled with an Eldar maiden. No one dared mention it.

Of course, when it came to walking the line of heresy, no one compared to the Savior.

Dante showed no reaction, continuing to act like a servitor—still as a statue.

He already knew about the Ork fortress and assumed the statue was the Savior.

But he wasn't going to comment.

This wasn't the first time the Savior had done something outrageous. Dante had seen worse.

As far as he was concerned, better to spend time slacking off.

"Slacking off"—that phrase had come straight from the Savior himself. Once Dante understood its meaning, he'd taken it as his personal life motto.

He would slack off, and do it with purpose!

—

In the void—

The Rog Fortress clashed fiercely with the Tyranid fleet.

The Rog Kong's drill tore through the battlefield, while twin mega-cannons mounted on its arms bombarded relentlessly.

Tyranid losses soared.

More Tyranid reinforcements surged in, launching hordes of living missiles at the fortress and unleashing wave after wave of swarms.

But these swarms were quickly bludgeoned into pulp by the surging Ork masses.

With the Redeemer Fleet blocking most of the Tyranid reinforcements and the local bio-fleet overwhelmed by the fortress—

The balance of the battle tilted heavily against the Tyranids.

BOOM—

Portions of the fortress were damaged, but its cannons continued their unrelenting fire.

A blast tore into the Narwhal Vessel, carving massive wounds into its body.

It screamed in agony.

Then—

Shunk shunk shunk!

Dozens of miniature drill weapons were fired.

These drills, loaded with Orks, plunged into the Narwhal Vessel's body. More Orks spilled out from within.

They deployed all manner of explosives, tearing the Tyranid creature apart from the inside.

Melta bombs and high-yield charges riddled its interior, leading to a series of internal detonations.

Wuuuu—

The Narwhal Vessel let out a final cry and capsized in space, belly-up and barely clinging to life.

Leviathan's last hope of escape from the Baal system was gone.

Now, the Hive Ship sensed a far greater threat.

Panicking, it changed course, trying to flee the Ork fortress's wrath.

—

Back on the Dreamweaver—

"By the Emperor!"

A fresh round of gasps erupted. Even Dante's stoic expression twitched.

In their sights—

The statue on the Ork fortress, its massive drill rotating faster and faster, suddenly launched forward.

This… unique and indecent attack mode exceeded all expectations.

Eden watched the drill pierce through the void and turned toward the Chapter Masters.

"Gentlemen, it's time for boarding operations!"

He gave the order and led them to the teleportation chamber.

Across the fleet, Space Marines stood ready.

Today, Leviathan would be captured alive.

The titanic drill struck the Hive Ship at high speed, shattering its outer chitin armor and boring deep into its flesh.

The 30+ kilometer-long void-beast screamed in pain, sending shockwaves that scattered nearby bio-ships.

But an even greater threat was about to land.

WAAAGH!!!

The drill's internal hatches opened, unleashing a massive Ork horde—accompanied by Death Dreadnoughts and Stompa Tanks.

They collided head-on with the Hive Ship's interior swarms, locked in brutal melee.

Quickly, the Orks secured landing zones.

They began installing teleportation beacons.

They needed reinforcements to hold back the endless tide of Tyranids.

As the beacons lit up, circular teleportation portals opened across the battlefield.

One after another, Thunder Warriors and Astartes materialized—joining the fray with roaring bolters and gleaming power weapons.

Side by side with the Orks, the Space Marines unleashed a storm of death.

The final battle had begun.

They would fulfill the Savior and Rog's orders—take this living Hive Ship, capture the void-beast, and its master—the Leviathan Hive Mind.

—

Soon after—

Archmagos Biologis Moss of Urth's Mechanicum arrived with his research team.

They brought with them a tall, tarp-covered bio-cylinder—from the gaps, a part of a cloned creature could be seen.

It was covered in chitinous plating—with winged bones as sharp as blades…

Bzzz—

As a brilliant light pulsed, a special, isolated teleportation portal rose from the deck.

At that moment, low, solemn hymns echoed across the ship.

A boot, black as midnight, stepped onto the flesh-strewn battlefield.

Clad in obsidian-black armor, the Savior descended upon the xenos battlefield. Every warrior present bowed their heads in awe and reverence.

His armor was dense, dark, as if light itself avoided it—bending around rather than passing through.

But most striking were the dark-golden skull runes etched on his shoulders, chest, and belt.

Fierce yet sacred—they radiated power that silenced and humbled all who beheld them.

These were no mere decorations—

They were sacred relics.

And they were the secret weapon against the Leviathan Hive Mind…

(End of Chapter)

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