The Harbinger turns its head, as if surprised. An omnipresent voice is heard all around you: "Foolish child, you believe a few mere grenades can stop our Harbinger? You believe you can undo the will of the universe itself? The Plague is nature, it is reality. We are unstoppable, unbreakable; we have massacred trillions of warriors far superior to you. Their knowledge, their training, their very souls are ours now, just as yours shall be. You are pathetic, weak; you only slow down the inevitable. We shall kill. We shall absorb. We [i]shall[/i] win." The Harbinger hisses and charges at you; stabbing it's arm straight through your chest and pins you into the dusty surface of the lunar body. "If you are going to die, then you shall die knowing our power, our strength. You shall die in misery, and know that those you are dying to protect shall be consumed, just as you are being." The Harbinger begins pumping Plague biomass into you.