The doors to the throne room swung open with a heavy thud.
In that instant, the blinding golden light poured out like a waterfall, engulfing Adam's entire figure. The light was scalding yet ice-cold, carrying a pressure capable of purging the soul.
Having entered and exited this place so many times, Adam was thoroughly familiar with the process. He did not dodge or squint. Stepping forward, he allowed the radiance to submerge him completely.
Adam's eyes widened.
As a power approaching a Reality Warper Level 5, Adam's strength was incomparable to his past self. A chasm stood between his previous and current capabilities—a fact proven in his prior battles. Without this power, he could not have manipulated six thousand years of history single-handedly.
Because of this, Adam could now discern through the illusion and observe the true appearance of the throne room.
As curiosity naturally surfaced in his mind, the golden light peeled back like a curtain.
He saw it.
Was that... a machine?
A machine far grander than any mortal imagination could fathom stood at the center of the light. Its structure was complex enough to shatter a human mind, every inch of metal engraved with technology beyond mortal comprehension, as if the physical laws of the universe bowed before it.
Golden light burned between its components, moving as if possessed by a living will. At the core of the machine sat a corpse.
The corpse's mouth was slightly agape, its emaciated body looking like a dried husk devoid of muscle. Skin clung tightly to the contours of bone, revealing a pale, translucent complexion beneath. The eye sockets were hollow black abysses, yet faint golden sparks still flickered within them.
Every atom of the body seemed to endure unimaginable torture—surpassing even the most harrowing agonies Adam had witnessed in the Foundation universe. A wave of immense suffering washed over him, so potent that he held his breath.
The corpse seemed to notice his gaze.
It shifted slightly—a motion so slow it seemed to consume the last remnants of its strength. A doubtful gaze drifted from the sunken sockets and landed on Adam.
Then, a burst of golden light enveloped Adam's vision once more.
In the span of a moment, he found himself back inside the grand cathedral, unchanged from his previous arrival.
The light dissolved, replaced by cold stone walls, a soaring dome, and statues lined silently along the sides. The majestic statue of the Emperor, representing the glorious days of the Great Crusade, stood proudly above.
Everything seemed ordinary, with no notable changes.
Adam remained silent.
Even though he was mentally prepared, he felt genuine admiration for this level of self-sacrifice. If he had to endure it, he knew he could not last.
Furthermore, knowing this suffering could end without side effects if the Emperor simply agreed to accept his help—that the Emperor could step down from the Golden Throne and end ten thousand years of torment with a single nod—deepened Adam's respect. The Emperor still chose to hold the line for the future of humanity.
Such willpower, composure, and responsibility commanded respect.
"So, why have you come to find me?"
A voice spoke.
The youth in white robes opened the cathedral doors and walked in slowly, looking no different from their previous meeting. His voice was cold, carrying a sacred aura like an undercurrent beneath ancient ice.
The Emperor looked up at Adam, his eyes showing unhidden displeasure.
"Your action just now was somewhat disrespectful, wasn't it?"
"My apologies. I was merely curious. It was indeed my mistake."
Adam set aside his usual levity and offered a sincere gesture of apology. After witnessing the true state of the throne room, he could no longer address the Master of Mankind with his usual lighthearted tone.
"There is no need to be so formal," the Emperor said slowly, his voice returning to its usual flat cadence as if nothing had happened.
The youth in white walked up to Adam and looked up slightly, his inhuman eyes reflecting a deep, inscrutable light.
"So, have you prepared everything?" the Emperor asked, his tone devoid of emotion, as if confirming an established fact. "You wish to use my connection to return to the place you previously visited. Are you certain?"
"I am certain," Adam replied immediately.
The Emperor paused briefly. He seemed to be contemplating something, his eyes narrowing slightly. After a moment, he voiced his doubt: "That brings us to the question. I understand your reason for choosing your original world—but have you considered that you might encounter other dangers? I can guarantee a connection to that Foundation universe, but I cannot guarantee how much time has passed there."
"That will suffice," Adam said firmly. He had calculated this scenario countless times.
"First, the existence of an afterlife in that world guarantees certain characteristics of its cosmology. No matter how it develops, it will not escalate into a multiverse where supreme godheads slaughter one another."
"After all, the Foundation there is weak—and precisely because it is weak, due to the Foundation multiverse's unique matching mechanism, this particular universe does not need to worry about being matched into absurdly high-end scenarios or fighting to the death with supreme godheads."
"That is my primary reason for choosing it."
Adam paused, touched his chin thoughtfully, and continued, "And I have a second reason."
"What do you mean?" the Emperor asked.
"To ensure complete safety—and to achieve my goals by force if the Foundation backtracks—I will enter in my strongest state rather than sending a avatar."
The Emperor's expression shifted instantly. His voice altered: "What do you mean?"
Seeing the Emperor's reaction, Adam raised his hands to clarify. He did not want the Master of Mankind to misinterpret his intent as an attempt to run away.
"Apologies, that is not what I meant. I am not being careless or trying to flee. I do not mean my original body will cross over entirely."
Adam raised his hand, spreading his fingers slightly as if demonstrating an invisible concept. "The large-scale manipulation of time earlier gave me some inspiration. To an extent, I previously underestimated the output of my Reality Warping."
Given how rapidly his strength had increased along the timeline, it was understandable that he relied on raw talent rather than fine control. Improper control suppressing his potential was a natural consequence.
Adam believed this firmly.
Flipping his hand over as if recalling the feeling of manipulating the timeline, he said, "At that time, the idea simply occurred to me. I acted on it immediately and succeeded with virtually no resistance."
"It seems that as a Reality Warper, I can afford to expand my imagination further. After all..."
Adam looked up, enlightenment flashing in his eyes. "If I can bend time itself, why can't I do more?"
"For instance?" The Emperor narrowed his eyes, watching Adam.
"For instance, I can alter certain facts. Even fundamental ones," Adam answered, his tone resolute. "Why must there only be one of me? Common sense, existence, facts, rules—none of these should bind me."
"I can exist in two places simultaneously. I can stand here, and I can stand there. Both facts can hold true at the same time, and both belong to my main body."
He paused, as though confirming that the words themselves were already altering reality.
"Therefore, I will use Reality Warping to establish an undeniable fact: I exist in both the Warhammer universe and the Foundation universe. Both instances of 'me' are simultaneously my main body."
A brief silence fell over the cathedral.
Golden light filtered through the stained glass windows, casting patterned shadows on the floor.
The Emperor stared at Adam. Then, he seemed to exhale quietly, reassured.
Evidently, he had been concerned that his contractor might abandon everything and leave.
Don't do that. What am I supposed to do if you run off?
"Rest assured, I know what I am doing. Have you ever seen me go into a battle unprepared?"
As Adam spoke, he stepped forward.
The moment his foot lifted, distorted light flashed across his body, creating a ripple in the surrounding space.
He took another step forward—leaving an identical copy of Adam standing in the original spot.
The two Adams separated, like two facets of a single entity rendered onto the same plane. They turned simultaneously and looked at each other.
One of them waved at the Emperor with a slight smile.
"Let's go."
Confirming that Adam's demonstration was genuine, the Emperor nodded and raised his hand gently.
A bridge resembling twisted stars materialized before them, spanning the rift of the void with starlight flowing across its surface.
Adam stepped onto it.
A swirl of chaotic light flowed past, as if crossing a veil, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
The familiar sensation surged around him from all directions, wrapping around his presence, but Adam quickly set it aside. This was not his first cross-dimensional trip.
Adam slowed his steps, realizing he had arrived at his destination.
He surveyed his surroundings.
His landing point matched the exact position where the Emperor's power had summoned him away from the Foundation universe.
Beneath his feet lay a green meadow, grass swaying in the gentle breeze, untouched by industrial civilization. Above was a blue sky with lazy white clouds, the sunlight warm without being harsh.
In the distance, the outlines of human structures stood quietly on the horizon. Everything appeared normal.
So normal it felt entirely unremarkable.
"Now then, let's begin."
After a moment of thought, Adam verified the defensive Reality Warping abilities he had applied to himself before arriving—more than a dozen layers tailored to different types of attacks:
Anti-memetic hazards, anti-infohazards, anti-cognitive distortion, anti-causality, anti-conceptual anomalies, anti-theological, anti-thaumaturgical, anti-reality warping—each layer was precisely anchored to his existence like invisible armor.
With his defenses confirmed, Adam expanded his perception.
Being in peak condition allowed him to unreserve his awareness. Even if he encountered hazardous information, his defenses and automated filters would steer his attention away from forbidden anomalies.
His consciousness flooded outward like an invisible tide.
It covered the Earth's crust, penetrated the oceans, and swept across cities. Every inch of land, every building, and every corner of the sky was scanned in detail.
Half an hour later, Adam slowly retracted his perception.
On the surface, everything seemed operational. Human society continued to function, though something felt amiss—the population was less than half of what he recalled, yet people walked the streets cheerfully without complaint.
Despite the apparent harmony, subtle incongruities lingered, giving Adam a sense of strangeness.
Aside from that, there were no immediate threats.
However, a glaring anomaly on this Earth left Adam deeply unnerved.
He fell into a long silence.
What is going on? Let me check again.
After a thorough search using his spatial perception, Adam had to accept an undeniable fact.
"Where... where did the Foundation go?" he muttered to himself.
There was no mistake.
On this planet roughly 12,000 kilometers in diameter—the third planet from the sun—Adam's detailed scan revealed no trace of Foundation facilities or personnel.
The sites he remembered as containment sectors were entirely deserted, leaving behind empty building complexes. The vacant rooms and accumulated dust indicated an abrupt departure that had taken place long ago.
Adam stood in silence.
Seriously? What on earth did you guys do!?