"What exactly are you babbling about?"
"If the Tyranid Swarm is allowed to simply consume the entire universe like this, then my existence becomes somewhat redundant. To make myself feel better about my placement, and to discover a new path forward for the Tyranids, I require a few novel possibilities."
Yuki needed to understand precisely what manner of sustenance the Tyranids—or rather, Haifu—genuinely required, the absolute volume she needed to consume, and the subsequent strategy once that consumption was finalized.
The paramount variable remained what he could personally contribute to Haifu's existence, and whether there were assets that even the Great Devourer herself actively required.
Yuki didn't possess the answers yet, but his decades of lethargy and drifting aimlessly with the current officially concluded here. Having borne witness to the unyielding resistance of organic life and navigated his own profound psychological displacement, he wanted to actively engineer a change.
Haifu would back him; he could no longer afford to wallow in a comfort zone.
"It's remarkably straightforward. If the Tyranids restrict themselves exclusively to raw gluttony, they will invariably consume the entire galaxy to absolute completion one day. However, if we domesticate and cultivate organic life as livestock, it transforms into an infinite repository of sustenance. To orchestrate a domain of this magnitude, we naturally require a few administrators to facilitate operations."
Yuki smoothly extended his hand toward Ahriman. "Don't you agree that your profile is exceptionally well-suited for the position?"
"What a thoroughly preposterous conceit. How could a creature like you forge such a layout?"
Yuki couldn't articulate the precise mechanics himself; he simply felt the collective consciousness of every individual entity anchoring the swarm—the raw instinct to survive, the primordial desire to feed.
From that specific perspective, these organisms were fundamentally no different from any other biological lifeforms.
Being marooned within that ritual space for months—at least from a subjective chronological standpoint—Yuki had weathered an immense baseline of psychological strain.
Yet the strain Haifu had endured was millions, if not billions of times more severe.
Was there an alternative methodology available that would allow the Tyranids to harvest sustenance with far greater efficiency? If that was the case, so long as they could successfully cultivate organic populations, they could utilize bio-nutrients or alternative vectors to ensure those populations remained "happy."
"Every sentient being experiences dreams; you can simply evaluate this layout as an expansion of a dream I harbored one evening."
"Laughable!"
Ahriman unleashed his psychic power once more. This time, his casting violently lacerated the local spatial coordinates, tearing directly through Yuki's physical frame. This particular vector of assault bypassed standard defensive parameters entirely to inflict direct structural trauma, slicing Yuki's body clean apart.
"I calculated from the outset that subverting an asset of your caliber would never be a simple enterprise."
But Ahriman truly looked incredibly majestic.
Yuki's absolute favorite Chaos Space Marine miniature had always been Ahriman; that enigmatic, sorcerous aura was magnified exponentially now that it was manifesting at a true-to-life scale right before his eyes.
If he could successfully bring Ahriman into his alignment, the sheer operational gratification would be beyond calculation.
Dozens of biological tendrils erupted from his inner core, seamlessly splicing his fractured physical framework back together and restoring his vessel to absolute structural integrity within a fraction of a second.
"Will you truly decline to evaluate the offer? You can leverage the synapse network of the Swarm to directly interface with the collective psychic reserves of the hivemind—it would provide a monumental amplification to your personal casting parameters."
As Yuki articulated the proposition, his own psychic signature violently flared. The synchronized collision of their respective telepathic fields ground the master-crafted tiles and ancient masonry of the Sorcerer's City to absolute dust.
In an instant, both entities plunged into the surrounding void.
"If you harbor an aversion to operating directly beneath my hierarchy, you are fully welcome to engage as an ally. The actual numbers of the Thousand Sons are remarkably thin, and your collective biomass is trivial. If you are amenable to assisting my enterprise, I might even dedicate resources to researching a structural resolution for the Rubric Curse."
Ahriman froze in his tracks.
Breaking the Rubric Curse had existed as the absolute, solitary focus of Ahriman's existence for the past ten millennia—a perpetual quest to retroactively correct his catastrophic failure.
Observing Ahriman's micro-expressions, Yuki understood his data was perfectly accurate; Ahriman remained entirely unchanged, continuously consumed by the profound grief of his ancient mistake.
Following the Burning of Prospero, the Thousand Sons and Magnus had elected to betray the Imperium of Man, charting a trajectory toward Terra.
Following the formal conclusion of the Horus Heresy, the flesh-change gene-flaw ravaging the XV Legion deteriorated exponentially. Seeking salvation, Ahriman extracted a ritual from Tzeentch that ostensibly possessed the capability to permanently purge the genetic curse.
Yet Ahriman had been fundamentally deceived; a surreptitious alteration to the incantation completely warped the operational parameters of the spell. Every battle-brother lacking sufficient psychic potential was instantly incinerated into ash, their essential souls permanently bound within the sealed chambers of their power armor, transforming them into Rubric Marines.
Concurrently, every surviving member of the Thousand Sons who weathered the ritual emerged as an absolute master of the psychic arts.
If there was a solitary variable in the cosmos capable of genuinely subverting Ahriman's allegiance, it was explicitly this matter.
"What manner of nonsense are you projecting?"
Yuki readily registered the profound psychological wavering within Ahriman's consciousness.
"While we lack definitive structural breakthroughs at this precise microsecond, so long as the Tyranid Hive Mind dedicates its absolute analytical assets to the problem, engineering a resolution is well within the realm of possibility."
Nothing but the void of space remained around Ahriman and Yuki .
Absorbing Yuki's syllables, Ahriman felt his resolve thoroughly fracturing.
Remarkably few entities across the galaxy commanded an intimate understanding of the inner tragedies of the Thousand Sons. Furthermore, whispers regarding this specific hive fleet and the man anchoring its vanguard had begun to permeate certain sectors of the Immaterium.
According to those warp-born rumors, this individual operated as the consort of the Great Devourer, commanding the absolute structural authority to direct vast splinters of the Tyranid fleets. If this entity chose to apply his leverage, it was possible he truly possessed the capability to—
"Desist from this conflict, Ahriman. Return to your gene-father and query whether he desires to forge a radiant path forward for the future of the Thousand Sons. Even though your cabal engineered a layout to maroon me and my fleets on this grid, I am entirely comfortable dismissing that tactical engagement as a mere orchestration of Tzeentch."
Ahriman feared that his consciousness would be genuinely subverted by the man's rhetoric. Executing a rapid leap backward to open the distance between them, he instantly catalyzed a translocation spell and vanished from the coordinate.
Yuki tracked the vector of Ahriman's departure, perfectly aware that had he chosen to pursue the sorcerer, he could have effortlessly intercepted him.
"Go on then, Ahriman. This remains a matter of paramount structural significance; I calculate that you genuinely require a window of absolute reflection to process it."
Yuki stood in contemplation for a few moments, before pivoting his thoughts to evaluate alternative candidates.
Khayon? That fellow maintained an exceptionally compressed relationship with Abaddon; he harbored a distinct concern that Khayon's cognitive functions had been compromised by the Warmaster's influence. No—evaluating the historical reality that he had surrendered himself directly to the Inquisition, Khayon's cognitive baseline was clearly profoundly flawed.
As for the Imperium of Man—frankly speaking, he couldn't visualize a solitary asset within their hierarchy who would willingly entertain his propositions. By contrast, the Orks represented an exceptionally convenient variable. Cultivating Orks within an isolated planetary system to act as a self-sustaining crucible would be remarkably efficient; so long as the scale of conflict remained strictly regulated and the green skin strains were never entirely liquidated in a single sweep, one could functionally engineer a perpetual motion engine of biomass.
"Ghazghkull should possess the capacity to digest the concept, or perhaps we simply withhold the true strategic objective from his awareness—"
Yuki systematically reviewed the catalog of potential candidates within his mind, though he ultimately failed to identify an ideal asset.
As his thoughts drifted, the primary echelons of the Swarm finally completed their planetfall.
To deliver an absolute, definitive termination to their adversaries—and to extract blood payment for the months of agonizing displacement inflicted upon them—Haifu had deliberately expended an immense baseline of raw energy to drive the hive fleets into an extreme warp transit, enabling this rapid consolidation.
Had Ahriman extended his compliance just now, Yuki would have surreptitiously redirected their vanguard to execute an immediate flank assault on the Silent King. However, given Ahriman's retreat, they would proceed strictly in accordance with the original strategic layout.