Washington D.C., The White House
Inside the conference room, representatives from five nations were locked in tense communication with their respective national leaders via dedicated lines. Suddenly, the projector in the conference room flickered with static, as if malfunctioning. A staff member stepped forward, ready to replace the seemingly faulty device.
But the screen then trembled and reappeared, no longer displaying the pre-set intelligence data. Instead, everyone's gaze snapped to the projector. On the screen was the enormous head of the Blood Moon, framed by the boundless starry sky.
"Greetings, people of Earth," Marcus's voice boomed, distorted by the Shield Intelligent System to sound incredibly deep, like the guttural rumble of a colossal beast.
Everyone in the conference room sprang to their feet, staring intently at the image. Various cameras nearby swiveled, attempting to capture every single detail. This was their first clear glimpse of the Blood Moon's true face.
"Heh heh, why is no one speaking?" Marcus continued, a hint of amusement in his altered voice. "I remember you Earthlings are quite hospitable; after all, you are a race that engraves information about your civilization onto records and launches them into the Universe." He was, of course, referring to the Voyager 1 and 2 spacecraft.
The people in the conference hall exchanged bewildered glances; still, no one dared to utter the first words of communication with an apparent alien civilization. Simultaneously, they mentally cursed everyone who had ever advocated for launching the Voyager spacecraft.
Marcus was in no hurry. Several minutes passed, during which the occupants of the conference hall shifted and changed, with the five nations eventually dispatching their highest-ranking officials stationed at the United Nations. After a few more minutes of urgent preparation, the American representative finally spoke the first words.
"Hello," the representative began, "we are the representatives of this planet. How should we address you and the civilization behind you?" This was the concise opening sentence the five nations had collectively decided upon, designed to elicit more information from the unknown entity.
Marcus ignored their talk of "planet representatives." After all, once these five countries jointly decided on certain matters, all other nations typically had to comply. "My name is Kairon, and my civilization is Tyranid," Marcus stated casually, as some people in the conference room frantically scribbled down the information. Every scrap of intelligence obtained from communicating with an alien civilization was deemed invaluable.
Immediately after, the British representative spoke the second sentence. "Your Excellency Kairon, may I ask why you and the Tyranid civilization behind you are visiting our planet?"
"Collection," Marcus replied. Although the word sounded cryptic, it was firmly recorded. Just as the representatives in the conference room wanted to continue asking questions, Marcus directly interrupted them and stated frankly, "I will descend into the Eastern Europe region. I hope you can make the correct preparations."
"Why are you doing this, please?" the Russian representative asked, confusion in his voice. In the view of many, a place like Earth shouldn't possess anything that could attract such an advanced civilization.
"Every world has its unique aspects, and you are no exception." However, Marcus naturally wouldn't explicitly state his mission objective. Noticing their growing curiosity, he recalled the prepared statements he had formulated and slowly began, "This Universe is much vaster, more crowded, and more brutal than you imagine." As soon as he finished speaking, everyone present immediately straightened their backs, listening intently.
Looking at the eager faces before him, Marcus slowly recounted:
"Imagine gods of the material cosmos — beings who can rewrite the laws of physics with the twitch of a finger, who drink the energy of suns as casually as mortals sip wine, and whose immortality and indestructibility make them nightmares given form.
There are the Old Ones, masters of genetic engineering so advanced they sculpted entire species in their own image — races that walked the line between mortal and divine. Yet even they were cast down, butchered, and driven into oblivion during the apocalyptic War in Heaven, a conflict that shattered star systems and set the galaxy ablaze.
Know of the Dark Gods — abominations born from the extreme emotions and conciousness of all sentient beings in the Universe, from the most depraved lusts to the deepest hatreds. They are hunger and madness incarnate, and they bring only ruin, corruption, and annihilation to all who dare to exist.
The Necrons, whose mastery of science was so absolute it became indistinguishable from sorcery. Once rulers of flesh and blood, they were deceived by the Star Gods, their souls consumed, their bodies twisted into immortal living metal — then entombed in silence for sixty million years, awaiting the moment to rise again.
From beyond the veil of the known universe come the Great Devourers — titanic swarms without end, so vast they blot out the light of stars, their only purpose to strip galaxies bare of every molecule of organic life. Their hunger unquenched.
The venerable Aeldari, who reigned supreme for tens of millions of years, their culture a blaze of art and power. But decadence rotted their souls, and in their unrestrained depravity they gave birth to a newborn Dark God — a horror that forever damned their species to be hunted, tortured, and consumed without mercy.
The Krork abominations — brutal warrior-beasts engineered by the Old Ones for a single purpose: endless war. They thrive on slaughter, and with a surge of instinct and brutality can leap from stone clubs to interstellar warfleets in the span of months.
And there are empires that once wielded the power to bend time itself, their civilizations blazing brighter than any sun — until they were torn apart in a single, catastrophic rebellion by their own creations. Worlds that once forged wonders beyond imagination fell back into the darkness of the Stone Age, their greatness erased as if it had never been."
He continued, listing other horrors: the Hrud, who could manipulate time to accelerate or reverse it; the Rak'Gol, whose flesh technology was at its peak; and so on. Marcus brought forth all sorts of monstrous beings he knew from the Warhammer Universe, giving a brief introduction to each one. If he were in the Warhammer world, rashly mentioning the names of the Warp and Evil Gods could very likely attract malevolent attention. But this was the Resident Evil world, where there was no Warp, and naturally no Evil Gods, so Marcus felt completely at ease sharing these terrifying truths.
After listening to Marcus's lengthy narration, everyone present was in a state of profound shock. Even with just ordinary textual descriptions, they could feel the cruel truth of the Universe Marcus depicted. Countless races and civilizations slaughtered each other for various reasons, then vanished into the long river of time. In a way, Marcus hadn't deceived those present; he was indeed speaking of the cruel truth of the Universe, only he was speaking of the Warhammer world, not the Resident Evil world.
Looking at the dazed crowd, Marcus chuckled inwardly. He felt no psychological burden in acting like a fox borrowing the tiger's might.
"The Blood Moon you see is merely a creation of my avatar," Marcus continued, "and the spacecraft in orbit is nothing more than a non-military vessel. If I truly harbored malice towards Earth and humanity, you would have already become corpses, coalesced into a part of the Blood Moon." Marcus concluded, implying he had no ill intentions.
"Non-military vessel—" The people in the conference room were speechless. A 1.6-kilometer-long alien spacecraft, capable of orbital bombardment and completely destroying all life on Earth's surface, was, in this entity's words, merely a "non-military vessel." Combining everything Marcus had just said, these people were constantly imagining and elevating the strength of Marcus and the so-called "Tyranid civilization" in their minds to unimaginable heights.