Chapter 60: Beheading the Swarm
The Genesis-class battleship had one unexpected side effect—it compensated for Godzilla's biggest weakness in warfare: deep-space combat.
With this vessel underfoot, one could already imagine the absurdity to come: Godzilla making warp-jumps to assist friendly—or even enemy—forces. Picture him appearing on Tyranid bio-ships, clearing decks as if they were his own. Imagine him bursting through the void to rip the Norn Queen herself in half.
Ah, yes. The Norn Queen. The central synaptic node of the swarm. If you wanted to decapitate a Tyranid fleet, she was your target.
'This ship,' Godzilla thought, tail flicking, 'has potential.'
As it turned out, he wasn't the only one thinking that.
Katata, the self-proclaimed lizard priest, had arrived on the planet without anyone noticing. She now stood before the massive vessel, having fashioned herself crude armor out of orkish scrap: a primitive breastplate, loincloth, and a pair of mismatched goggles perched atop her snout.
Her golden eyes gleamed at the sight of the battleship. "I think this thing can be improved!"
The machine spirit of the Genesis shuddered. Something ancient and malevolent had just taken an interest in it—and it was deeply, deeply unsettled.
But that catastrophe was still weeks away.
For now, Isis stood at the Webway Gate, fulfilling her promise to Captain Haider and his company of Ultramarines. Her Eldar constructs operated the gate's mechanisms with silent grace, opening a shimmering path to the stars.
Haider didn't immediately march in. With a subtle nod, he signaled to one of his brothers, who stepped forward and entered the portal alone.
Ten tense minutes passed.
Then, the Marine returned, battle-worn but unshaken.
"No tricks, Captain. It's Macragge. I saw it myself. The Ultramarines are still holding the line against the traitors!"
A storm lit Haider's eyes. So they had attacked the homeworld. But the defenses held. His brothers held. The fires of vengeance rekindled in his chest.
He turned to Isis, voice full of steel and gratitude. "High Priestess Isis, you have my thanks. I will not forget what you've done for us."
Isis gave him a sly smile. "Don't worry. It was a fair trade. Now go."
What she didn't tell him was that ten thousand years had passed on Macragge since his departure.
"Brothers!" Haider roared, raising his power fist high. "For the Emperor, for Ultramar! Show these traitors the meaning of loyalty!"
The Ultramarines marched through the Webway, joined by relic wargear, ancient vehicles, and Tech-Priests from the lost age of the Great Crusade. Many of these machines hadn't been seen in the Imperium for millennia.
Isis remained behind. She had no desire to step foot on Macragge—it was in chaos. Her brief psychic communion with Haider had told her all she needed to know: at least three Chaos warbands were besieging the planet. And among them… Word Bearers.
She watched the last Marine vanish into the gate before turning back toward the Genesis.
As expected, the battleship now belonged to her.
Captain Wade Smith, commander of the Genesis, stood at the base of the embarkation deck with his surviving crew, waiting to receive their new 'guests.' The ground beneath them thrummed ominously.
Thump. Thump.
Something enormous was still moving inside the ship.
"Is he still stomping around?" Wade asked, teeth clenched.
"Yes, Captain," came the nervous reply.
"Then speak with respect. That's our god you're talking about."
Isis's voice cut across the deck like a whip as she strode into view. Her eyes narrowed. "You dare speak casually of Him? Mind your tongue."
Wade paled and bowed quickly. "Forgive me, High Priestess. I meant no offense. I simply… wondered what's to become of us?"
"For now," she said, "you'll remain aboard. The surface is unsafe."
Tyranid drop spores still rained from the sky like biological meteors. The greenskins held their ground for now, but when they fell, the world would become nothing but biomass and spore growth. Even the orks wouldn't be able to grow their precious mushrooms.
But Godzilla didn't care. He had bigger plans.
'I want to join the gang!'
He paced the hangar deck, claws clicking. His burning eyes narrowed in anticipation. Somewhere out there, a Norn Queen waited—and he meant to tear her to pieces.
'A decapitation strike,' he thought. 'It's time to be the one doing the beheading.'
[You have mastered two essential Warhammer tactics: gang-hopping and decapitation strikes.]
In the grimdark of the far future, these were often the only options left when you couldn't win fairly.
But normally, the person being beheaded was the big threat.
This time, Godzilla was the one doing the jumping.
He stomped once on the deck. The metal groaned in protest. His tail slammed against the wall like a battering ram. A deep, feral voice echoed through the ship's corridors.
'I'm going to rip her head off and wear it as a trophy.'
The Genesis's machine spirit shivered again.
It was then that Isis—ever attuned to her god's moods—snapped to attention.
"Captain Wade, return your crew to their stations. We're going to war."
"What?! War? With who?"
"The Swarm."
"I… I'm not familiar with that term—"
"You will be," Isis interrupted, then turned to the Lizardman standing behind her. "Bring the five thousand Ancient Blood Warriors. They're coming with us."
The Lizardmen filed into the Genesis without hesitation. The crew didn't even try to stop them. What would be the point?
Wade grimaced as lizardmen marched past, dripping with primordial menace. "This ship belongs to the Imperium," he muttered.
"And now it serves something greater," Isis replied coolly.
The crew returned to their posts, and Wade called down to the Navigator's sanctum.
"Where's your navigator?" Isis asked.
"In the sanctum, as always."
"Male or female?"
Wade blinked. "I… male, I think. Why?"
"What a pity," Isis murmured. "Tell him to step down. We have a replacement."
"Replacement? Navigator? But the machine spirit won't accept—"
"I didn't say there'd be no guide."
From the shadows behind her, four lizardmen emerged, bearing an ancient stone throne on their shoulders. Upon it sat a slumbering lizard priest, ancient beyond reckoning, her psychic presence suffocating. Even asleep, her aura warped the air around her.
To any psyker, she was a living sun.
"This," Isis said, "is your new Navigator."
Wade stammered. "But—but she's not of the Imperium. The machine spirit will object!"
"It dares?" Isis's voice turned deadly.
She stomped her foot. Raw psychic energy erupted from her body and met the slumbering priest's aura in a blinding clash, sending a telekinetic shockwave through the ship. Outside, the skies roiled with warp storm energy.
"If it dares to disobey, I'll rip it from the ship and cast it into the warp. Let Vatosh—the newest demigod of Chaos—make a demon battleship out of its scrap."
The Genesis's machine spirit whimpered. Somewhere deep in the noosphere, it folded like wet paper.
Even the Emperor would have nodded and said, "Wise choice."
"Now," Isis said calmly, brushing imaginary dust from her robes, "Captain Wade, prepare for warp-jump. We march for the heart of the swarm. I won't keep my god waiting."
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