With Dehaka officially on his mission, the newly created "Zehaka" could not be allowed to go to waste.
"The name Zehaka originally meant 'Dehaka of the Swarm,' but now that the genuine article has arrived, I'll have to give my poor creation a different path."
The voice of the Overmind resonated within Zehaka's mind.
"Zehaka."
"I heed your commands, Master," the brain-worm replied.
Because of the Overmind's specific customizations, this newborn leader looked more like a Xenomorph from Alien vs. Predator than a typical Zerg—bearing about an 80% resemblance to the silver-screen nightmare. This was designed to maximize his direct lethality; in a 1v1 duel, this brain-worm could potentially go toe-to-toe with a Hive Tyrant.
The original plan was to send this creature to wreak havoc on the T'au, but with Dehaka already deployed there, there was no need for redundancy.
"Your mission is to deal with the humans in the Damocles Gulf."
The Overmind was feeling bold, essentially waging war on three fronts simultaneously. However, it wasn't blind bravery; he didn't plan to engage the Imperial Navy in a traditional fleet battle yet. Instead, he intended to rot the Hive Cities from the inside out. By the time the Imperial fleet arrived to "clean up" the conquest, the Leviathans would be ready to strike.
"Yes, Lord. I will annihilate all who stand against the Swarm."
"The Warp-gates are open. Begin your mission. I will replenish your forces shortly; every unit under your command will possess the ability to evolve, just as you do."
"All is in accordance with your will."
Zehaka was far more obedient than the primal Dehaka, possessing a singular determination to execute the Overmind's grand design.
"Let us begin."
The mission was far from simple. The Damocles Gulf was Imperial territory and sat dangerously close to the Realm of Ultramar. This proximity meant the inevitable intervention of the Ultramarines or other Adeptus Astartes Chapters.
"As long as that one Ultramarine named Titus doesn't show up, everything should be fine."
With his two new generals dispatched, the Overmind began to reflect on a growing bottleneck. While he had enough units to occupy planets, managing an entire Sector required more high-level "Brain-worms" (Cerebrates). Unlike the Overmind, whose command capacity was virtually limitless, a Cerebrate's reach was finite. Unfortunately, the "production cost" for such complex consciousnesses was steep.
"I'd almost like to mass-produce copies of myself," the Overmind mused. He couldn't personally micromanage every skirmish; without middle management, his wars would devolve into a mindless "F2A" (Select All, Attack) strategy.
"Never mind. We'll cross that bridge when we burn it."
The Overmind turned his focus back to the present. "Zasz, hold the fleet for now."
He remembered that one of the T'au Sept worlds housed a Necron Tomb World. He planned to mobilize a major operation to see if the Swarm could dismantle a Necron Dynasty once and for all.
"But first, let's see which 'Dehaka' is superior: the Primal original, or my Swarm-born creation?"
Zehaka arrived at the human settlement earlier than Dehaka. Upon his arrival, the Overmind's sensory link provided a view that left him momentarily speechless.
"What in the name of the Void is that?!"
The Hive World of Volkus, located in the Ghyre System, possessed a defensive structure that defied the Overmind's imagination: The Great Volkanon.
He knew Warhammer 40k's artillery was massive—some barrels were hundreds of meters long—but this was a "Mountain Cannon." It was so gargantuan that its barrel literally pierced the upper atmosphere. It made a Leviathan look like a minnow.
"I'm glad I didn't lead with a frontal orbital assault. That thing could probably punch a hole straight through a moon."
Volkus was no ordinary Hive World; it was a lynchpin of Imperial manufacturing. It produced everything from combat boots and trench plating to the plaster packaging for nutrient blocks. Naturally, such a vital world was heavily garrisoned. The "Storm Eagles" of the Astra Militarum, Battle Sisters, the Inquisition, and the Cult Mechanicus—every branch of the Imperial war machine was represented here.
Zehaka stood atop a spire in the mid-hive, overlooking the sprawling megacity before glancing up at the looming silhouette of the Mountain Cannon.
"Begin, Zehaka. Wreak havoc. Destroy the planetary defenses before the Hive Fleet arrives. Infiltrate. Evolve. Conquer."
Zehaka began his hunt. He moved through the city's maglev arteries, descending from the glittering heights into the suffocating gloom of the Underhive. Unfortunate pedestrians became silent snacks, impaled by his tail and dragged into the darkness of the vents.
Zehaka began his first meal. Human genetic sequences were largely stagnant, but their latent psychic potential provided a marginal boost to his own psionic reserves.
However, Zehaka also sensed danger. As a group of Arbitrators walked the streets below, one of them paused, sensing a predatory gaze.
"What is it, Atlas?"
The Judge, Atlas—who had crossed paths with the Swarm before—was currently stationed on Volkus. He stopped, his eyes scanning the shadows.
"I feel... as if something is watching us."
Atlas stared into the mouth of a dark alleyway. His intuition, honed by years of psychic sensitivity, told him something unique was lurking there.
"This is the Underhive, Atlas; it's likely just a common criminal," his companion remarked.
"Perhaps."
Ultimately, Atlas didn't investigate. He had other duties. Zehaka watched him leave, sensing the human's "special" nature but knowing it wasn't time to reveal himself. He continued his descent into the depths to gather strength.
The first batch of Primal Zerg promised by the Overmind arrived through the Warp-gate. Their first act wasn't to slaughter humans, but to turn on each other.
"The Primal Duel begins."
Primal Zerglings vs. Primal Zerglings. Primal Hydralisks vs. Primal Hydralisks. In the dark corners of the Hive, the "survival of the fittest" was being accelerated.