Terrifying firepower, enough to destroy a massive fortress in an instant, erupted violently within the AT Field projected by Unit-01. Blinding rings of lethal energy rippled outward. Like waves crashing against rock, the force was immense, but ultimately it could not break through Unit-01's protective barrier.
At the controls, Datch released explosive speed and power that were a stark contrast to the Evangelion's massive frame. With a thought, he rocketed out of the blast zone, soaring high like a shell, and crashed right into the heart of the encroaching Tyranid swarm in the distance.
Every Earth creature at the collision site was pulverized by the gigantic body of Unit-01 and the shockwave created by its AT Field. Originally, Unit-01 was a clone of the Second Angel, Lilith—a living biological weapon. The heavy outer restraining armor only serves to limit its true power, ensuring it can be controlled by human will. As a result, it was far more agile than any purely mechanical creation.
Under Datch's control, Unit-01 became incredibly powerful, transforming into a whirlwind of violet death among the insectoid horde. Each slash with the High-Energy Particle Vibrational Knife in its hand gave off a crescent arc of destructive energy. Wherever the blade struck they were all shredded like dried twigs thrown into a shredder, shells, flesh, and bones torn apart by the high-frequency particle flow, leaving nothing but a scatter of remains.
Yet, the most terrifying thing about the Tyranids was not the strength of individual units, but rather, their highly focused, almost infinite collective will. At first, Datch cut through the enemies with unstoppable force, but soon realized he'd fallen into the Tyranid's calculated war of attrition. It was not that Unit-01 lacked power, but rather, he as the pilot was being overwhelmed by the sheer biological tide pressing in from all sides. The information and response required reached the limit of mental endurance.
The remaining Imperial forces and the Void Fleet on the ground were too preoccupied to offer effective support. Simply put, he was fighting the entire Tyranid invasion force on Pallas alone.
Though these Tyranids were made of flesh and blood, defined by eons of optimization at the Hive Mind's command, they were terrifyingly tough. Their chitinous exoskeletons and biological joints were in no way inferior to finely machined alloys. Some special Behemoth variants could withstand a direct hit from heavy artillery. Their bio-plasma, pulse beams, toxins, and acids were all extremely lethal, easily penetrating armor.
Even worse, some among these swarms possessed psychic abilities—frequently unleashing arcs of bright bio-lightning against Unit-01's AT Field, constantly probing for Datch's weaknesses and wearing him down.
The battle grew increasingly intense as time went on. Countless smaller Tyranids, like barnacles on a great whale, desperately climbed all over Unit-01. With sharp bone-blades, acidic saliva, and drill-like appendages, they relentlessly attacked Unit-01's external armor. Most attacks were blocked by anti-vehicle fields or the unit's plating, but—as the old saying goes, "enough ants can kill an elephant"—the incessant attrition began to show.
"Sizzle—!" A lucky little Tyranid managed to latch onto Unit-01, using its hyper-corrosive acid and bone-drills in tandem to eat through a gap in the leg armor. The sharp bone-blade sliced cleanly into the flesh beneath. As it devoured the meat and analyzed the genes, a tremor surged through the Hive Mind, intensifying across the entire battlefield—even the planet itself. A madness far beyond simple predation swept through all Terran units via the invisible psionic network.
For the first time, the Hive Mind tasted an utterly unique, unbelievably powerful and exquisite gene sequence within that flesh and blood. Gaining this sequence would entirely transform their units, making it an irresistible target.
The Hive immediately reprioritized: the extermination of all remaining humans was scaled down to a minimum. Killing and absorbing Unit-01 became top priority. Every available Tyranid unit abandoned their original objectives, converging recklessly from all directions, from underground lairs and the encircling front lines, risking everything to take down and absorb Unit-01. Obtaining a complete Angel gene sequence would be worth more than conquering a thousand human worlds. The Hive Mind commanded its swarm to obtain it at any cost.
Amid the devastated airport lines, the surviving warriors and officers stood weeping atop the walls, gazing in disbelief upon a battle entirely beyond their comprehension. A mysterious warrior, once clad in a strange helmet, had healed their wounded and repaired the fortress. Now, he'd become a giant and lured all the Tyranids away to save them. Even if they told this tale, none would ever believe it, dismissing it as boasting or local myth.
"Is there anything we can do for him?"
Itto tightly gripped his explosive handgun as he watched, feeling an unprecedented sense of helplessness. It was clear this war was utterly beyond them.
"We can do nothing," said Phoros, shaking his head as he stared, eyes fixed on the monstrous bio-mech suit wrestling the Tyranid horrors.
"That warrior is deliberately leading the main Tyranid force away from the airport area, buying us time and preventing our lines from being overrun." The Chapter Master spoke gravely. "But there's just too few of us. Even with the miracle he performed and morale restored, no matter how many guns or turrets we repair, we simply can't withstand a head-on attack from the swarm."
"What we must do now is use the time he's bought to get the remaining refugees aboard the ships and evacuated. We cannot let the warrior's sacrifice go to waste."
…
In the center of the battlefield, Datch was buckling under the mounting pressure—maintaining the AT Field required both physical and mental effort. Against this relentless, all-out assault, even a seasoned reaper would grow exhausted mowing down so much endless 'grass.'
After a grueling, prolonged battle, he was completely drained—not because Unit-01's power was depleted, but because maintaining constant concentration and willpower had pushed him to his limits.
"There's too much grass... I can't mow it all..." Datch realized for the first time how frustrating it could be to massacre endless enemies in Musou mode. He finally understood the logic behind swarm tactics: no matter how powerful, in a war of attrition, even the mighty fall to exhaustion.
Just then, a notification popped up in Datch's vision:
[Enable point redemption for more payment options?]
Option 1: Berserk Mode. First stage limitation removal, greatly boosting unit output and attack (100 points/hour).
Option 2: Awakening Mode. Fully unleashes Angel power, alters the nature of the AT Field, resulting in exponential power increase (1000 points/hour).
"Damn it, why didn't the devs design a robbery mechanic?!" Activating Berserk Mode cost 100 points per hour—much costlier than the meager mission rewards. The final tally would be dire!
BOOM—!!
Thicker, fiercer psychic lightning was unleashed, guided by several psionic Tyranids. Targeting a brief moment of distraction, they struck precisely at Unit-01's calf, causing it to stumble and crash to one knee, gouging a deep crater into the ground. Instantly, a massive Tyranid crashed in, swallowing a large portion of the body in a single attack, tearing at the armor layer by layer.
Phoros and the rest were powerless to help, watching from afar in heavy silence. They were out of long-range munitions; their lasers and plasma beams were too weak at this distance.
"What a massive loss! This mission is a total waste!" Datch screamed internally, watching endless red alerts flash inside Unit-01. Driven to this desperate point, they had no other options left. Even if he died, himself, he could respawn, but Unit-01 would be lost forever. Mission success now meant trading rare items just to manage the bug swarms, at an even greater loss.
"Confirmed, Berserk Mode activated!" After weighing the pros and cons, Datch gritted his teeth and activated Berserk Mode, feeling the pain of every point spent.
[Unit-01 Berserk Mode activated.]
In that instant, incredible force surged up from deep within—unleashed from the captured Angel inside. Datch instantly felt the increased power, along with a wave of discordant, insane whispers in his ears. He quickly shut out the babble and refocused on controlling Unit-01, determined to continue the slaughter.
With Berserk Mode active, Unit-01's appearance changed: swelling muscles bulged even larger, dark red light shone through gaps in the armor, and a deafening roar burst from its mouth. Suddenly, a dark crimson shockwave exploded outward, annihilating the swarm that had been closing in. Datch stood up again, charging into the frenzied mass with entirely new speed. His movements were faster, more violent, trailing afterimages, each attack leaving shrieking sonic booms and devastating energy aftershocks—far more powerful than in regular combat mode.
A Tyrant, huge in size, was caught by Unit-01's bare hands and torn to shreds in a single battle. Bones crunched, shells fractured, and viscera splattered everywhere. Killing a key node creature like a Hive Tyrant usually sent local Tyranid units into brief confusion until a new command node emerged. This time, though, the confusion lasted only minutes before the insects returned to attack more ferociously than ever.
Unit-01's genetic sequence had driven the Hive Mind into an obsessive, reckless frenzy. After the Hive Tyrant's death, backup node creatures quickly assumed control, distributing command and boosting fault tolerance. It would be more costly for the swarm, but Unit-01's value justified the risk—the benefits of acquiring this bio-genetic code far outweighed present losses.
And so began the most brutal war of attrition ever seen.
Datch piloted the berserk Evangelion and fought for hours, mountains of insect corpses piled up at his feet. Yet the number of bugs seemed infinite. Across the fungal mat, more capillary towers and digestion pools were proliferating wildly. Many worker Tyranids recycled the biomass of fallen kin to create new battle units.
"Dammit... This will never end!" Datch muttered. "Killing this many creatures is really exhausting."
His mind felt fatigued and irritable. Despite spending so many points, the bug numbers weren't decreasing—in fact, they were increasing, as the Hive Mind constantly pushed out new tactics and optimized unit types. At this rate, even the rampaging Unit-01 would be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
"Screw it, trigger Awakening Mode! NOW. End these bugs once and for all!"
[Command confirmed. Points deducted… Awakening Mode activated.]
A soft notification chimed. The lines across Unit-01's body blazed blood-red, flowing like molten lava. A gigantic halo of pure particle light, several dozen meters across, formed above its unicorn-shaped head. Its form was like a mythical god descending to Earth.
Inside, the resistance from the Second Angel Lilith peaked—she struggled desperately to absorb Datch's will and merge with him. However, Datch's mind overpowered her, nullifying her every effort. Furthermore, in the deep connection of Awakening Mode, Datch could forcibly access Lilith's memories and instinctively gain the skills and knowledge needed to efficiently wield the Angel's might.
This act delivered a massive shock to the remnant will lingering in Unit-01—Yui. As chief developer of Unit-01, she knew if synchronization exceeded 400%, the pilot would be totally assimilated. Yet the enigmatic presence before her had not only resisted, but reversed the process, assimilating the Angel and plundering its deepest knowledge.
Was this man older and stronger than even the Angels?
In the awakened state, Unit-01's combat power soared. Raising an arm, Datch casually swept it in midair toward the densest part of the insect swarm. There was no sound or light—just an invisible giant hand, crushing space in a radius of several kilometers ahead.
Every low- and mid-level Tyranid, no matter how tough, simply exploded from within as if hit by a god, turning instantly into blood-mist and debris clouds. Only top-level units with strong psionic shields, like Devourers or Bio-Titans, survived, but barely. Against Unit-01's godlike onslaught, their mighty firepower and defenses were utterly meaningless—annihilated barehanded or sliced by golden cross-shaped flashes from its eyes, or blasted by versatile AT Fields deployed like a meat-grinder.
"Hahaha! YES! That's it! Taste FEAR, you worthless bugs!" Datch shouted in delight, the thrill of annihilation making him forget all about the points he'd just wasted. At this moment, it was as if Khorne himself had chosen him.
Datch slaughtered the Tyranids on the ground, single-handedly sweeping away the insect swarms. He toppled enormous capillary towers and wrecked their brooding and nesting pools. All that could be seen was devastation—fire and ruin.
When the earthbound Tyranids were finally purged and Datch tried to exit Awakening Mode, a sharp hiss caught his attention. Looking skyward, he saw that the Imperial fleet had suffered grievous losses, unable to stop the Tyranid main fleet's blockade of Pallas. Meanwhile, the bioships in orbit kept launching spore pods, unwilling to cease hostilities. The Hive had wagered all on acquiring Unit-01's flesh.
More and more bioships entered orbit above Pallas, forming a hopeless net.
"They're serious about challenging me... What kind of twisted game system is this!?" Datch cursed inwardly but had no choice but to fight on.
The slaughter continued for several more hours. The awakened Evangelion turned Pallas' surface—minus the spaceport's protected region—into scorched wasteland and ruins. Countless hives were uprooted, biopools evaporated, devastated cities burned under Datch's will. The land was gouged with abysses and fused-glass craters.
At length, when the Hive ran out of reinforcements, the frenzied assault slowly ebbed like a receding tide. Datch promptly deactivated Awakening Mode—light faded from the Evangelion's torso, and the halo vanished from its head. Instead of joy at victory, despair hit him: the points in his account had plummeted.
"I've lost a fortune... This time it really hurt!" Datch was left speechless—those points were hard-won.
Inside Unit-01, Yui's surviving consciousness was horrified at Datch's actions: he'd maintained Awakening Mode for hours with no side effects, showed no signs of assimilation, and could break off the deep connection at will. Her whole understanding of Evangelions, Angels, and human and divine realms had been overturned.
"Could he... be a god?" Deep within her mind, Yui could only murmur in confusion.
She wanted to ask Datch: Who are you? Where did you come from? How could you so easily control Unit-01 and suppress Angel will?
But Datch didn't even notice the faint fluctuations in her will—instead, he ignored the constant desperate whispering of both Yui and Lilith as mere background noise.
For now, the battlefield grew silent. The few remaining Tyranids withdrew, choosing to hide rather than attack. The massive Tyranid fleet held orbit, refusing to retreat, clearly still waiting for a chance. After confirming no new ground assault was coming, Datch released the Evangelion's transformation, hopped back on his cool light-bike, and returned to the spaceport.
Everyone revered Datch as an incarnation of the Emperor's will. Datch ignored them and their praises, heading straight for the Chapter Master, Phoros, who still bore a golden exclamation mark above his head.
"Honored lord...who are you? Who sent you to save us?" Phoros struggled to contain his shock, speaking with utmost respect. This being before them, however strange his appearance, possessed power beyond human or even Astartes imagination.
"Skip." Datch wanted nothing to do with pointless NPC dialogue. If he had to answer every question these story NPCs had, he'd never get anything done.
Phoros was a bit embarrassed—normally as Chapter Master, such disrespect would mean a challenge to a duel for the sake of honor. However, given that Datch had saved them all, held back the bug horde single-handedly, and enabled the safe evacuation of countless refugees, Phoros could only swallow his displeasure in silence.
Datch casually took out a pure white feather and handed it over. "This is for you, from the Archangel."
Phoros instinctively caught it with both hands. Instantly, a holy aura emanated from the feather and resonated within him, as if his bloodline and genes were being called. The moment Phoros realized what he held, he trembled violently, his face a swirl of disbelief and ecstasy.
"This is a relic of the Archangel! Where did you get it?" Phoros asked in a trembling voice.
Datch said nothing, just glanced up at the quest exclamation mark above the Chapter Master's head. The moment he handed over the feather, the mark vanished, signaling quest completion. Ignoring Phoros's anxious questions, Datch turned away and left, ready to repair equipment, heal the wounded, and reclaim points and experience.
But at least some explanation, please!
Phoros, thoroughly baffled, watched Datch depart.
Just then, Itto ran up with a pale, suffering Astropath in tow. "Chapter Master, we've just received an unexpected Astropathic message from Baal." Excitement was unmistakable in Itto's voice.
Phoros looked at the holy feather, then at the Astropath. "What's the message?"
The Astropath, struggling through the pain of traversing the warp's shadow, took a deep breath. "It says: 'Saint Sanguinius the Archangel has returned from his long slumber. Baal's glory has returned. He calls all scattered children home.'"
"…What?" Phoros was dumbfounded, gripping the Astropath by the shoulders. "Is this true? Is the source reliable? Lord Sanguinius…has returned!?"
The Astropath winced. "My lord, please, not so hard. Just piercing the swarm's shadow has already caused me great pain."
Phoros let go apologetically. "Sorry… Is it true?"
The Astropath nodded. "It's been repeatedly verified. It's genuine."
Phoros was overwhelmed: the Primarch of the Blood Angels, their father, had returned. It was the most thrilling news in recent memory. Yet after the joy, deep shame and sorrow quickly filled him. So few Lamenters remained—barely a few dozen warriors left, nearly wiped out on Pallas. If not for Datch's timely appearance, the entire Chapter would have been annihilated.
"Do we even have the face to return to Baal and meet our father…?"
The Chapter Master' voice was hoarse and thick with pain and remorse.
…
In the following days, the Pallas system entered a strange stalemate. Datch continued repairs, healing, and restoration at the airport, helping the Imperials recover fighting strength.
Using Sadako's videotape, he even boarded and repaired badly damaged Imperial Navy ships. Datch's odd attire originally sparked suspicion and doubt among the Imperials, but Phoros, the Lamenters' Chapter Master, personally vouched for him, easing all concerns and letting Datch move freely in the core areas.
Still, even with Datch's help, the Imperial fleet was no match for the Hive Fleet, unable to reclaim Pallas's orbit or launch a counterattack. After massive ground losses, the Tyranid swarm shifted tactics: abandoning blind attacks to focus instead on blockading orbital routes, even mobilizing distant fleets—clearly, they still coveted Unit-01's gene sequence.
And so, a tense balance settled—the two sides staring each other down, worlds apart, with a fragile peace.
Two weeks later, the turning point arrived. A massive fleet—including Imperial battleships, Mechanicus Ark wrecks, and numerous Chapter ships—made a sudden appearance at the outer galactic jump point. Wasting no time, they launched a fierce, coordinated assault on the lurking Tyranid Hive Fleet. Caught by surprise, the Tyranid were battered by gunfire and forced to retreat from the galaxy, holding to the outer void in unwilling anticipation.
This sudden fleet was reinforcements led by Sanguinius himself. After handling minor issues on Baal, he'd personally led an expeditionary force to suppress the turmoil wracking the Imperial dark zone. Phoros soon received news the Archangel was on his way to Pallas, raising both dread and eager anticipation—fear of reproach for his failure, but desperate longing to meet his bloodline father at last.
Haunted by conflicting feelings, Phoros and all the mourners soon received the summons: the Archangel himself wished to meet them.