u/michaelisnotginger

In Part II of Hive the true threat to the Hive is revealed. A major uprising takes place which is

(spoilers below this point)

revealed to be a Genestealer cult, paving the way for a full invasion of the planet by Tyranids. This extract finds one of the Hive defenders Carcy speaking to a former Astra Militarum veteran called Orquid. Orquid had recruited Carcy to help with the uprising, but Orquid's desires were far different from Carcy's as part of the Genestealer cult - this is their reckoning together and with the true invaders of the Hive.

> "Two faces", said Orquid, nodding

> "We all have two faces don't we?" said Carcy. "Show me yours, jha."

> Orquid snorted in amusement then took off his hood. His face was as Carcy remembered from the rally in the Guild chamber. Strong, solemn, with a cropped cap of white hair. The warbond veteran they had all trusted.

> "No jha", said Carcy. "The other one."

> Orquid paused. He reached up, and tore away the pseudoflesh, the artful prosthesis. It came away in strips. The flesh beneath was livid mauve, almost purple in the smog. His eyes, brindled and weirdly vital, looked slimy.

> Carcy tried not to flinch.

> "Better?" Orquid asked.

> Carcy nodded. "I needed to see it for myself", he said. "Truth speaks with a naked face. We must stand together now, more than ever, and each play our part."

> "I think you're lying", said Orquid.

> "Can you not tell, jha", said Carcy. "Seeing as you are so good at it?"

> "I do not think we need your help anymore, Carcy Hynze," said Orquid. He cast the lank ribbons of pseudoflesh aside and raised his rifle. The hooden men around him whined and chattered.

> "Has better help come then?" asked Carcy. "That help from above you promised. That help from above that was going to deliver our freedom? Is that it?" He pointed past Orquid at the wall of flames devouring Zontal Seven.

> "Of course it is," said Orquid. He grabbed Carcy by the arm and dragged him through the hooden man, up the ruined culvert, until they stood on the mouldering rockcrete bank of the Seventh. The hooden men followed. The fire had dried up the watercourse. To their right, thirty of's walk away, the great quad bridge was ablaze from end to end. There were things drifting high up in the orange air, not the black hail which fell relentlessly, but larger things. Swollen globes, like air sacs, carried by the wind, tendrils swaying like loose cables around them.

> "You see?" asked Orquid. "You see them? Here they come! Just like they promised! Gods of the Stars Without, come to us!"

> "Promised you or promised me," asked Carcy, rigid with horror.

> "Promised all of us!" said Orquid. He stared up at the drifting things in rapture. The superheated wind was beginning to blow the tendrilled sacs across the river into Twelve. On the far bank, other things were moving into view. White forms, glinting in the firelight. The sound of chattering increased. The white things were beginning to swarm. They came down over the lip of the bank in their thousands, chirring and clacking and spilled across the dried riverbed. Carcy could smell formic acid, bonemeal, and decay.

> The constant ringing in Carcy's ears suddenly stopped. Orquid had fallen curiously silent.

> Cary tore his gaze away from the approaching swarm of shapes. He looked at Orquid. The warbond's sickly eyes were wide open. There was an expression on his face, that, for all its xenos hybridisation, Carcy could still read as human. It was realisation. It was denial. It was some startled understanding, as though a stark truth had suddenly been profoundly spoken, as though an ancient lie had finally been exposed to light.

> "Oh gods..." Orquid whispered. "Oh Gods..."

> "Your gods, not mine," said Carcy.

> Orquid sank to his knees, shaking, gazing at the oncoming wave of organisms. His men had slumped down too, or fallen into spasm as their minds refused to accept the situation.

> There were only seconds left. No time to run or hide, no time for anything except, perhaps to murmur a last vespery, and claim some form of justice. It wouldn't be the justice of the Magistratum, or even that of the high, Without Away law. A simpler kind. A human one. The vengeance of a soul utterly betrayed.

> Carcy took the gun he had been given, and turned it on the man who had shown him how to use it. He watched Orquid topple off his knees, tears streaking what was left of his face. Then Carcy began to shoot the others, one by one, moving down the bank, executing each of the hooden figures in turn, whether they were kneeling, or curled in foetal balls in the mire.

> He had almost finished when the first of the scythed diabols rose up over the riverbank behind him.

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