"That terrifying enemy has appeared. It's even more dreadful than we imagined…"
Eden's brows knit tight, a thick wariness rising in his chest.
According to the Departmento Munitorum's intelligence, a flanking detachment of the Redemption Fourth Fleet was struck in the central region of Vostonius.
In the burning light of the void, a horrific shadow of a daemon destroyed a major fleet formation that included eight battleships and more than a dozen super-heavy destroyers.
Hundreds of warships in that formation were annihilated. Not one survived.
"More terrifying still: the enemy didn't rely on a sorcerous array or a warp-born cataclysm. It destroyed every ship with brute physical force."
Eden scanned the report and let out a long sigh.
"Thousands upon thousands of shipborne batteries couldn't halt its advance. The warp lanes were sealed, and there was no way to flee."
Eden's expression darkened as he continued.
"After that, the same enemy struck the main body of the Redemption Third Fleet. Fleet Commander Woladi reacted in time. At the cost of dozens of ships, they bought a window to withdraw."
"They successfully used a Webway route to evacuate the high-risk zone."
If the enemy had only destroyed an Imperial void-fortress, that could still be explained.
A fortress can barely move. A high-tier being could breach it via taboo sorcery or a ground incursion to destroy its core and trigger a catastrophic detonation.
But this time, what was destroyed was a fleet that could maneuver, a fleet that was "alive," and it had been butchered to the last hull by a single entity.
That alone spoke to how terrifying the foe truly was.
The Saviour's words thickened the air. The atmosphere grew heavy, as if some unknown pressure was bearing down on them.
At this moment, the primarchs all felt a weight in their hearts.
"Eden, brother… how did the enemy even do that?!"
Guilliman swallowed. His throat was dry. Strength on that scale had already exceeded common sense.
Even Perturabo, standing beside him, felt a deepening dread.
They could not imagine what kind of power was required to destroy an entire fleet using only personal violence.
After several seconds of silence, Perturabo spoke.
"Perhaps I could seize a warship by force, then use machinecraft to turn it on the rest. But against a sector-level fleet or greater, I would lose without question."
In most cases, an Imperial fleet possessed strong escorts. It also had Adeptus Astartes operating in concert.
And it would not hesitate to employ forbidden weapons.
That was not something an individual could challenge.
Guilliman also offered his assessment, measuring the enemy's capabilities.
"I've awakened my essence. I could force my way into a ship and destroy the life within. Given enough time, I could inflict serious damage through assault and infiltration."
"But I cannot exterminate an entire fleet, especially once it's on alert. And I certainly cannot directly destroy the ships themselves, those kilometer-long leviathans…"
He stared at the holo-projection of shipwrecks that had been torn apart by sheer force, and the pressure in his chest grew heavier.
Guilliman considered himself among the Imperium's highest-tier combat power, yet he could not see a path to defeating such an enemy.
He and the Lord of Iron both looked to the Saviour. That brother was the strongest known battle asset the Imperium currently possessed.
Yet neither of them held much hope. No matter how strong the Saviour was, his strength had still been within a range they could understand.
Guilliman could not help thinking of the battle between the Emperor, that father, and Horus.
That battle had also surpassed common sense, causing devastation on an extreme scale.
The shockwave that spilled out from the Vengeful Spirit had nearly destroyed every ship nearby.
Perhaps only the father could deal with a foe like this.
But he could not rise from the Golden Throne to fight again.
Eden's face was full of worry.
Under the gaze of his two brothers, he spoke slowly.
"Judging by personal force alone, I can destroy a void-fortress or a warship. I can even destroy a fleet…"
His cloned Tyranid body—Bladewing—had grown stronger under the nourishment of vast biomass, gaining the raw power to smash a battleship.
And it could devour biomass on the spot to produce spore sacs and cultivate swarms. Given enough time, it could birth a tide of organisms mid-battle.
That swarm could then assault an entire fleet.
"…?!"
Guilliman and Perturabo were struck dumb.
"B-brother… you have the same kind of force as that enemy?! When did that happen?!"
Guilliman's throat went hoarse, his scalp tingling.
They were all primarchs. How could the gap between them be this absurd?
In the past, the Saviour had certainly been powerful, but still within a range Guilliman could keep his mentality steady around.
Guilliman could score an eighty, the Saviour could score a hundred. At least it still felt like the same exam.
But now Guilliman realized the Saviour only scored a hundred because the paper only allowed a hundred.
The Saviour's true "score" was far beyond the scale.
For a moment, even Fulgrim, trussed up in elaborate bindings, went blank.
So the Saviour was this strong.
How much more had that damned cautious bastard been hiding?!
After the shock, Guilliman felt a flash of hope.
"Eden, brother… then doesn't that mean you can defeat that Chaos powerhouse?"
"No. That thing is stronger than me, by a margin…"
Eden shook his head, his wariness unchanged.
"Based on the wreckage analysis, I don't have much hope of winning."
Just moments ago, he had received comparative analysis data from the Departmento Munitorum and the Tyranid research divisions.
His cloned body—Bladewing—could not reliably defeat that enemy.
Worse, that body had not fully matured yet. There was a serious chance it would be contaminated by Chaos warp energy, triggering unpredictable failure modes.
The Departmento Munitorum was still running analysis to find a way to win, including sorcery, forbidden relics, or the latest Saviour-pattern Redemption armour.
Eden's answer extinguished the brief uplift in Guilliman and the others, dragging the mood down again.
Eden himself was no different.
He had not felt this level of crisis in a long time.
After seeing the report, he was reminded that the galaxy and the Warp still contained truly horrific force.
Even ignoring the horrors birthed by the gods, the material universe held individuals with even more destructive potential.
For example, the C'tan.
Those were gods of the material universe, planet-eating terrors. Many shards were now controlled by the Necrons.
There was no guarantee they would not inflict catastrophic losses on mankind.
Right now, no C'tan-level individual had appeared.
Yet a single Chaos-forged individual weapon was already driving them to the brink.
This rotten world truly was "hell difficulty" for humanity.
In the Warp: the Chaos Gods.
In the material universe: the C'tan, and the Great Devourer.
Any one of them dropped into another world would be an apocalyptic threat.
Here, they were all present.
The group continued their analysis of the intelligence and the enemy.
After reviewing everything, Perturabo delivered a grim conclusion.
He projected a star chart, marking every location where the enemy had appeared, spanning Vostonius and surrounding sectors.
"That unknown Chaos individual is hunting Imperial fleets and fortress firebases. It also possesses mobility that rivals a fleet."
"More dangerously, its activity range is expanding."
"This likely relates to the sector-spanning Chaos array. Once that array spreads, it will be able to move without restraint into far more regions."
Guilliman stared at the projection, anger building.
"That is a weapon the Chaos Gods are projecting into the Imperium. Once the Chaos array expands to cover the entire Shrouded Star Region, mankind may lose control of it."
At that moment, Eden also received forecasts from the Departmento Munitorum and the Psychic Academy.
The prediction aligned with the Lord of Iron's analysis. The worst-case scenario was taking shape.
The Imperium's ability to hold a vast realm depended on naval fleets stationed across regions, sectors, and systems.
But now, the Chaos Gods could strike Imperial naval power at will, and at the scale of sector fleets.
How was the Imperium supposed to withstand that?
Each fleet was among the Imperium's most expensive assets, often taking a century-scale timeline to build.
If the Chaos Gods destroyed a sector fleet every so often, the Imperium could not sustain it. Local control would collapse.
Worse still, the enemy was a high-tier individual, extremely fast, and capable of shifting via the Warp.
Every time it moved, the Imperium bled.
There was no effective defense.
Most likely, that individual weapon was already hunting its next target.
But the Imperium could not hide its fleets.
If the fleets hid, how would it govern its domain at all?
This was a clean strike at the Imperium's arterial lifeline.
There was no avoiding it, and no more time to stall.
Every moment delayed meant immense losses.
They had to resolve that enemy as quickly as possible.
Eden took a deep breath and forced his resolve back into place.
He looked at Guilliman and the others, his tone firm.
"Data is only data. No matter what, we have to stop that thing."
"At the very least, we attempt once and find out what it actually is."
That enemy's brute force was indeed terrifying, but a primarch was not a disposable infantryman to be erased casually.
And they had three primarchs who had awakened their essence.
With a Chaos array, forbidden relics, and proper preparation, victory was not impossible.
"We return to Kalistede and regroup with the Lion and the others. I refuse to believe five primarchs can't hold that thing."
Eden rose and issued a rapid sequence of orders, instructing the Departmento Munitorum to draft an engagement plan, a withdrawal plan, and the corresponding weapons and logistics package.
If that terrifying enemy appeared again, they would intercept and test whether they could inflict meaningful damage.
If not, they would withdraw immediately and seek a new solution.
"If there's truly no other way… then we'll have to swallow losses and see if we can get the Emperor off the Golden Throne."
Eden's mind drifted to an older proposal from the Throne research divisions.
The plan was to excavate the entire Imperial Palace and the Webway entrance beneath the Himalazia, then transfer them into the Dawnlight City Webway.
That would allow far stronger defensive deployment.
And the new location would be within the operating range of the Emperor's clone-body, letting the old man "guard himself."
That would remove constant anxiety about the Golden Throne's safety. The Palace being attacked repeatedly was nerve-wracking.
More importantly, it would allow the Emperor's clone-body, together with the researchers, to repair the Golden Throne.
He was the being most familiar with the Throne, and he was best suited to conduct repairs under that psychic pressure.
Other high-ranking Tech-Priests or psykers simply could not endure the high-pressure psychic environment around the Throne.
That was one of the core reasons repairs were so difficult.
Perhaps once the Golden Throne was repaired and its psychic suppression reduced, the Emperor's clone-body could replace the original.
Then the Emperor's true withered remains could be "dug out," allowing him to act in the galaxy directly.
After all, the Emperor's primary function was to use his Warp essence to suppress the Webway breach.
As long as the clone-body was not rejected by the Golden Throne, the plan had a chance of success.
"I can initiate this plan early. The Imperium is vast. Trading space for time, we should be able to hold until the plan succeeds…"
Eden fell quiet as he ran through the implications.
It was a brutal plan.
It required countless bait operations to buy time, sacrificing innumerable Imperial worlds and lives.
If every attempt to stop that terrifying enemy failed, this would be the only remaining option.
No matter what, Eden did not want events to reach that point, forcing the Imperium's revival plan to be delayed.
He turned to Perturabo and laid out another operational concept.
"Brother, when the time comes, I'll likely need you to work with the sorcerers to construct a new Maugetar Stone array, to see if it can affect that thing."
"Can you do it?"
"The Lex-Rule Armour recorded every node of the Maugetar Stone array. With help from a high-tier sorcerer or a Librarian, I have a 97.13% probability of reconstructing it."
Perturabo's answer was precise down to the decimal, and it carried a strange sense of certainty.
"Then I'm counting on you."
Eden nodded, satisfied. The Lord of Iron's brain was, as ever, exceptionally useful.
Bringing him back to the Imperium had been an unequivocally correct choice.
With his thoughts organized, Eden no longer bothered with the Chaos daemons trembling in the audience stands.
Regrouping was now the priority.
Click—
Eden planted a mechanical psychic beacon into the ground, illuminating his position. A teleportation array spread outward along the arena floor.
Then he hauled Fulgrim like a dead dog and stepped into the transfer zone with Guilliman and the others.
They intended to return to the Blackstone Ark of Omen—Burning Heart.
"What's going on?!"
But to Eden's shock, the teleportation beam from the Ark did not descend.
It was being obstructed by something.
A terrible premonition surged up his spine, and he snapped his head up.
The horizon of this daemon world was burning.
Warp-flame surged from the ground to the sky, and enormous were forming.
It was an attack from Chaos.
"Hahahaha. The gods have sent new strength."
Fulgrim bit down and shattered the holy grenade in his mouth, letting its energy sear his mouth and face.
He stared at the Saviour with hateful delight.
"You're not going back."
"And you won't have a chance to stop any of it!"
(End of Chapter)
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