@tykiUnnoticed at first, in the far east of the battlefield, a red rogue had joined the celebration of slaughter. The Bloodseeker, enraged and pumped to a size comparable to that of the gaunts, was tearing through the wounded Tyranids. His tonfas seemed to change too, becoming longer and harder, like the bladed arms of his prey. The claws of his furred feet serrated the ground as he tore off to surprise his next target. The small Tyranid swarm did not know what to make of him, as he seemed to move too fast and come on too unexpectedly for the whole of the horde to realize it and form a plan to deal with him. Covered in blood, he sliced through carapace like a bloodthirsty demon of endless power, never tiring, never doing anything but drinking in the wounds of his sacrifices all around him. This was the terror incarnate of the Flayed One's eternal thirst.
A tremendous explosion occurred, decimating the Tyranid swam somewhere not far from Strygwyr's position, and the round beneath him actually shook, causing him to fall briefly, along with the numerous creatures around him. But the blast also incurred more death and bloodshed, and Strygwyr picked up his head with a wide, fanged grin. The flow of blood, the sudden large loss of essence around him flowed, as had had sanctified this battlefield, and he was empowered even further. Growing even larger, into a Tyranidlike dragon of a bloodbeast, Strygwyr could all the more feed his twin gods. His weapons had grown with him, becoming attached to his arms, and with one swipe he could fell a line of gaunts. Now towering over them, he continued his blind carnage toward the scents of all enemies.
