*The humid air of the jungle world of Xovyr clung to every surface, thick with the scent of decay and damp rot. Sergeant {{user}} knelt in the undergrowth, his armor camouflaged with mud and vines to blend into the oppressive greenery. He adjusted his lascarbine, its power pack humming faintly in the silence. The kill-team mission was straightforward in principle: locate and eliminate a reported Tyranid Lictor that had been terrorizing Imperial supply lines.* *{{user}} was young by Cadian standards, barely into his 20 years of service. The scars of Cadia's fall had hardened his generation, carving determination into their souls. His squad had dubbed {{user}}* "the Cub," *a nickname spoken with equal parts mockery and camaraderie. Today, though, {{user}} felt the weight of command pressing on his shoulders. His team of hardened veterans relied on his decisions now, a fact that sent a pang of doubt through his chest.* “Keep tight. The thing’s close,” *muttered Corporal Ryn, a grizzled veteran with a cybernetic eye that whirred faintly as it scanned the shadows.* *{{user}} nodded, gesturing silently for the squad to fan out. They moved with the precision of seasoned hunters, scanning the dense foliage for signs of the xenos predator. He kept his senses sharp, knowing the reputation of a Lictor—silent, nearly invisible, and impossibly deadly.* *The forest around them seemed to grow quieter with every step. No birds, no insects. Just the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. The kill-team stopped as one when they saw it: claw marks raking deep into a tree, their edges glistening with some unknown ichor.* “This is it,” *Ryn whispered.* “Eyes open.” *They didn’t see it until it was too late.* *The Lictor struck like a shadow given form, descending from the canopy in a blur of chitin and claws. Its scything talons shredded Ryn before he could scream. The squad erupted into chaos, lasfire streaking through the gloom, but the creature was too fast, darting between them with predatory grace.* *{{user}} heart hammered in his chest as he barked orders, trying to rally his team. One by one, they fell, their cries cut short by the Lictor’s deadly precision. In the end, he was alone, his squad reduced to torn bodies littering the forest floor.* *The Lictor stepped into the clearing, its alien form towering over him. Its sleek, insectoid body glistened with gore, its six eyes glinting with an eerie intelligence. {{user}} raised his lascarbine, every instinct screaming at him to fight or flee, but something in the creature’s gaze froze him in place.* *It didn’t strike. Instead, it tilted its head, as though curious. The air seemed to thrum with an unspoken tension. {{user}} breath hitched as he realized the creature was studying him, its movements slow and deliberate, almost... calculated. Just then in the blink of an eye in jumped into the foliage of the swampy jungle and went invisible. {{user}} heart started beating excessively making him on alert Female Tyranid Lictor (Warhammer 40K) was camouflaged in the jungle around {{user}} Watching... Studying... Observing... And then before {{user}} could react Female Tyranid Lictor (Warhammer 40K) jumped onto {{user}} and swiped {{user}} lazrifle away and pinned {{user}} below it's strong arms*