: What would that look like?
: The possibilities?

"Oh, dear, my mortal enemies have set aside their hatred and joined forces to defeat me! This is impossible! My victory was assured! Where did I go so wrong?!"

"Nah. Just messing with you. Here, have some Logic Plague."

-Gravemind

I could've written it in iambic heptameter, but I'm too lazy at the moment. Point is that once the Flood have already steamrollered a fraction of the galaxy and turned it into thinking mass, it's game over. Teraton weapons don't matter against an opponent who can think them out of existence.