The Imperium’s final line of defence crumbled within fifteen minutes.
Eve was merciless. The first man, the man who had dared to wave at her, died as Eve separated his head from his shoulders with a casual swipe of her hand. His helmet clattered off to the side, striking a second soldier, and Eve made the subconscious decision to take him out next. He died with a hole in his armour the size of Eve’s fist. She needed a moment to shake him off of her arm, giving the third soldier a chance to stab Eve in the side with his spear.
The soldier didn’t take the chance. He was, apparently, flabbergasted. He died when Eve crushed him with the body of the second soldier.
Eve’s approach had always been to kill each opponent one-at-a-time, and now that her body and her instincts were in charge, that’s exactly what she did. The next soldier, a woman, died when Eve crushed her windpipe. Another, an amputee leaning against one of the remaining tanks, lost her life as Eve tipped the tank onto her. She then used the tank as a projectile to kill five more soldiers, a fact that saddened her a little. The more soldiers she killed in a single blow, the fewer opportunities she had to snuff people out one-by-one. Eve then made herself feel a little better by ripping out an officer’s throat, and she paused for half a second to watch the life drain out of his pale face.
To Eve, this process took hours. She revelled in every second of the assault, and not once, not once, did the bedraggled fighters of the Imperium manage to land a blow on her. This disappointed her, and made her eyes twitch even more violently than before. She looked like a madwoman when she decided to rip the thighs from an especially sumptuous orc and feast on his flesh, realizing as she did that she was voraciously hungry.
In the midst of the meal, Eve’s appendix burst. She ignored it. She didn’t need her appendix anyway. It was superfluous to her purposes.
The very few soldiers who managed to flee Eve’s onslaught retreated to the walls of Rodentia. The city, though far larger, reminded her of home. She wondered if her father was somewhere inside, maybe living in his one-room apartment with that woman. Eve didn’t like that woman, and she angrily grabbed the remains of a cannon and hurtled it at the city walls. Stone and masonry exploded as the cannon struck home.
That woman. She’d never liked Eve, so Eve didn’t like her. She would make that woman suffer. She would -
mommy
Eve staggered to one side, clutching her head. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, and red-green spittle dripped from her jaws. Her vision fluttered, and she touched her stomach, still grimy from the innards of the Nothing. She felt okay on the surface, but something rumbled inside her, something more vital than that stupid appendix, something that was leaking. Something that might stop her from doing her job.
mommy
gotta
finish
killkillkill
That woman was, now, every man, woman, and child in the city of Rodentia. Eve spotted that woman peering out the front doors at her, letting more copies of that woman flee behind the relative safety of Rodentia’s crumbled entrance. Eve’s body decided to ignore the leaking in her gut as it launched her towards the entrance, howling, almost gibbering, fingers grasping to throttle that woman, and that man, and that person, and everyone, because it honestly didn’t matter a bit to her who they were.
Just so long as they weren’t him.
They weren’t daddy.
It took Eve considerably longer than fifteen to empty Rodentia of its citizenry, and she was much more efficient at it than the sloth who’d ruined the place previously. Where the sloth engaged in wanton destruction, Eve hunted. She cornered men in their homes, tore into women in their shops, cornered children in their beds. She could feel them, she could smell them, and none of them survived. None. Her gauntlets ran thick with their blood.
After four hours of continuous movement, Eve sprang another leak, somewhere in her guts. She wasn’t sure where. But, oh, daddy, how it hurt.
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