"What do you mean by 'not necessarily'?"
"Translate that for me—what exactly do you mean by 'not necessarily'?!"
Cegorach fell into a brief silence.
The newly recovered smile on his painted face froze once again at the corners of his mouth.
Even though he had reluctantly begun adapting to this human god's style, he was still shocked yet again.
What on earth?
"Do you honestly think the Four Gods of Chaos are fools?"
Cegorach could not help raising his voice.
"Even if it's you, you still have to consider whether this plan makes any sense first! Even if the Four Gods of Chaos were willing, you'd still have to let them see a possibility of victory!"
His tone grew increasingly hurried: "You currently have the Emperor backing you up. Even if Chaos manages to find suitable realspace hosts, what would be the point? There is zero chance of victory."
Even the most foolish gambler wouldn't throw chips into a game guaranteed to fail, right?
How can you cast a hook without any bait?
Do you truly expect them to just bite on an empty line?
After listening, Adam paused in silence for a moment before bursting into a hearty laugh.
"Ah, well, if I say it out loud, it might lose its magic. Besides, there are still a few uncertainties on my end regarding this, so it isn't convenient to go into detail just yet."
He raised a hand, a mysterious and inscrutable smile lingering at the corner of his lips.
"Some things lose their magic once spoken. As the Master of the Black Library, you should be able to understand this logic, right?"
Evidently, acting like a riddle-monger put Adam in a rather delightful mood.
Of course, while he was enjoying himself, the Laughing God was not pleased at all.
'Damn it!'
Cegorach let out a silent cry in his heart.
'I—the Master of the Black Library, the leader of the Harlequins, the master of all secrets in the galaxy, the greatest riddle-monger in the entire cosmos—'
'Actually had to endure being hit with riddles face-to-face today?'
'How the tables have turned...'
The key issue was that he didn't even dare to throw a temper.
'Sigh.'
The Laughing God sighed silently in his heart.
Yet, for the sake of his most beloved Aeldari, he swallowed his pride and approached servilely once again.
"So, do you have any other requests?"
Adam waved a hand grandly.
"Naturally. First, let me casually pick out a few useful books of knowledge from your Black Library to read through and study."
Cegorach: ...
His lips twitched slightly, and the eyes beneath the face paint rolled before he finally gave a painful nod.
"...Alright."
A short moment later.
"Is this acceptable now?"
Watching Adam stuff that thick stack of tomes one by one into an unknown, folded spatial rift, the twitching at the corners of Cegorach's mouth grew even more violent.
Picking any single book out of that pile would be enough to utterly shatter the worldview of a mortal civilization, yet he could only watch helplessly as this reality-warper packed them all up like he was shopping at a local farmer's market.
Adam ran his fingers over the ancient texts stored within the spatial pocket, confirming that nothing had been left behind.
Then he raised his head, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
"It seems our cooperation has been quite pleasant."
'Pleasant my foot.'
That was what the Laughing God wanted to say at that moment.
However, having already come this far, he kept his composure in the end.
The exaggerated smile on his lips remained completely motionless, and his tone maintained its eager warmth.
"In that case, do you happen to have time now to fulfill your promise to us Aeldari?"
Hearing this, Adam looked visibly confused: "What promise?"
'Heart failure.'
'"Holy crap, don't scare me like that!"'
Cegorach gasped sharply, stumbling and nearly failing to keep his footing.
At this moment, countless worst-case scenarios flashed through his mind—was this guy really planning to back out?
"I originally thought you were someone who kept his word!"
Cegorach's voice almost went out of pitch.
What?
No way?
Are you really going to learn from your senior sitting on the Golden Throne?
Out of all the things to learn, you pick 'that'?
That's how people end up beaten into paraplegia!
Facing his terrified gaze, Adam seemed to suddenly remember something.
Ah, this...
He scratched his head with slight embarrassment.
"My apologies, I genuinely forgot. To be completely honest, it really didn't cross my mind for a moment."
This apology came with such utter candor that Cegorach didn't even know how to respond for a moment.
And that was indeed the reality.
Just moments ago, Adam had been completely immersed in his own world.
Having been pondering how to exploit loopholes to deal with the Four Gods of Chaos, a massive flood of inspiration had surged into his mind like a bursting dam, causing him to lose himself entirely in thought.
Under such circumstances, briefly forgetting the promise made to the Aeldari was somewhat forgivable.
"It doesn't matter, I've already figured out how to handle it."
Adam smiled slightly, his tone regaining its calm and collected certainty. "You mean preventing the souls of the Aeldari from returning to Slaanesh, thoroughly resolving this issue for them, correct?"
"Of course. But how do you plan to do it?"
Cegorach's tone carried unhidden skepticism. "As much as I hate to admit it, that damned symbol truly counts as an Aeldari deity. It is inextricably tied to the Aeldari, and it is only natural that their souls return to its embrace upon death."
"You're right."
Adam nodded thoughtfully.
"So, the plan is simple. I will personally forge a closed realm within the Warp and place it somewhere Slaanesh can never reach, using it to house the souls of the Aeldari."
"Where in the Warp could Slaanesh possibly fail to find?"
Cegorach was somewhat perplexed.
Adam answered immediately: "Naturally, right at the Astronomican on Terra—the one that requires the sacrifice of a thousand psykers every day."
Cegorach went silent once again.
'You can even do that?'
'666.'
At this moment, he couldn't help but play on a double entendre here—it appeared to be Slaanesh's sacred number, but it actually originated from ancient Terra's slang, expressing his admiration for this plan.
He knew all too well how ironic it would be if Slaanesh ever found out about this scheme.
Slaanesh wants to snatch the souls? Sure.
Before doing that, however, It would first have to ask the approval of the one sitting on the Golden Throne.
Take it up with the Emperor!
However, this only solved one problem.
Cegorach quickly regained his composure, a serious expression resurfacing on his clown face.
"Now that the basic framework is set, you still need to prepare a vessel for this space—an entity with enough presence in the Warp. It can be responsible for guiding the Aeldari souls into that sanctuary, much like what I do in the Black Library. Who do you plan to assign to this task?"
He silently looked toward Adam himself.
The meaning in his eyes, hidden behind the face paint, was self-evident.
'Why don't you personally take charge of this?'
'If you do it, I can rest easy.'
"How could that be possible!"
Reading his gaze clearly, Adam immediately waved his hand and rejected it outright.
His tone was firm and resolute, leaving zero room for negotiation.
"I already have someone in mind."
---
Meanwhile, elsewhere...
Within the territory of the Imperium, a starry sky was burning fiercely.
Just five minutes ago, a supernova explosion of a scale grander than ordinary minds could comprehend had abruptly erupted within this sector.
It was a massive star—its mass over a thousand times greater than that of the sun. It had burned in the cosmos through vast spans of time, witnessing the rise and fall of innumerable civilizations.
Yet today, its life had reached its end.
At the core of the star, a superweapon belonging to a Necron Dynasty released its final wave of energy fluctuations.
Immediately following that, the fusion reaction inside the star lost its balance in an instant.
The core collapsed, the outer layers ruptured, and energy accumulated over eons was unleashed entirely within a matter of seconds.
A colossal, furious sun seemed to rise from the pitch-black abyss, its luminosity outshining the combined total of every other light source in the star system in a split second. Mass and heat were thrown into deep space without reservation, forming an expanding wall of radiant flame.
The blazing fire engulfed everything.
The celestial bodies that once orbited within the inner system didn't even have time to melt during the first wave of impact; they were instantly vaporized by the violent radiation pressure and thermal flux, dispersing into the void.
Yet, within this scorching hellscape that seemed like a absolute zone of death, a fleet was still standing firm.
Representing the pinnacle of Imperial human technology, the 'Hope' stood as solid as a rock, anchored right behind the frontal shockwave.
The black hole main cannon fired from the bow of the ship. A precisely calculated jet of black hole energy tore open a distorted gravitational field in the void, swallowing up the vast waves of oncoming light and heat in their entirety.
The remaining warships of the fleet stayed safely hidden behind this gravitational barrier, using it as a shield to bypass the fiercest direct impact.
The residual thermal currents that managed to breach the gravity field merely left a few shallow scorch marks on the hulls.
On the bridge, the Primarch—the Great Angel, Sanguinius—was watching the scene with serenity.
His face appeared exceptionally calm under the reflection of the sea of fire outside the viewport.
Those divine eyes mirrored the magnificent spectacle of the supernova, while the pristine white wings behind him gathered slightly, their tips gleaming with a soft luster beneath the bridge lights.
"It seems the Necrons' superweapon indeed lives up to its reputation," Sanguinius said softly.
However, for a Primarch, the cards in his hand were more than enough to keep him unharmed through a desperate, mutual-destruction tactic like this. His mastery of command made it effortless—in fact, the 'Hope' hadn't sustained any substantial damage that required a return to dock for repairs.
"Though up next, I fear there's a tough battle ahead."
A holographic image lit up beside him.
Ferrus Manus's form appeared at Sanguinius's side.
As the Imperium's new Warmaster, the war effort Ferrus was responsible for was even greater than that of Sanguinius.
After all, Sanguinius fought while simultaneously restructuring local infrastructure through the Ecclesarchy's influence, balancing combat with governance;
Ferrus, on the other hand, was purely the sharp blade—he was in charge of direct, unadulterated warfare.
Thus, he knew even better that this war was far from over.
"Based on the phenomena I've observed, as the awakening rate of those xenos accelerates, they are gradually driving other xenos dynasties to crawl out from their tombs as well," Ferrus said, his voice deep and grave.
"According to the data models I built, they will only gather in greater numbers. The intensity of the upcoming battles will definitely not remain at the current level."
Sanguinius nodded. Naturally, he knew what this implied.
Although those Necron Dynasties appeared fragile before the Imperium's unimaginably grown military force, the peculiar gadgets they pulled out when backed into a corner—those terrifying creations from the War in Heaven era—were truly an eye-opener for the Imperium of Man.
And the intensity of the war it brought was fully comparable to the era of the Great Crusade.
However, this was completely unnatural.
When facing these former overlords crawling out from ancient tombs, nothing called for greater vigilance than the fact that battles were progressing smoother and smoother.
"They have already begun to gather," Ferrus stated definitively.
"You're right," Sanguinius agreed, nodding.
Then, his tone shifted.
"By the way, Ferrus, did you know? The Imperium might soon welcome a new brother."
"Who?"
Ferrus frowned first, a hint of vigilance surfacing on his iron face. "Why haven't I received any news?"
In the next moment, he suddenly realized something. His scowl deepened, knitting his brows tightly.
"...I don't think that's a good idea."
He seemed to have guessed who was about to contribute to the Imperium of Man.
"Magnus?"
Ferrus's voice abruptly chilled.
"I don't consider this a good idea in the slightest. I think there's a high probability he'll blunder again, causing another completely irreversible and monumental loss."
His words were filled with discontent, dripping with prejudice and distrust toward that traitorous brother.
Yet, the Imperium's painful history had long proven this was no mere bias.
"He has changed quite a bit now," Sanguinius said gently and calmly. "With the direct assistance of our Father and Lord Adam, his personality is being gradually completed at this very moment. Magnus has recognized his mistakes and is earnestly repenting for the crimes he committed—day after day, night after night."
"Repenting?" Ferrus let out a cold snort. "Repentance does nothing for all that he's done. The scale of his crimes is so immense that mere repentance is hollow and powerless."
"The blood spilled on Prospero, the loyalists who died fighting in the Webway—can his repentance bring them back—"
He suddenly trailed off, realizing a slight flaw in his words.
It seemed that among those very people, quite a few had indeed been brought back by a certain reality-warper.
However, Sanguinius didn't refute him.
He simply offered a smile and spoke.
"Magnus can also contribute to all of humanity, can't he?"
Ferrus opened his mouth to say something, but stopped short.
On the other side, Sanguinius also tilted his head, as if listening to a voice coming from far away.
"It seems that a certain one-eyed red Ogryn currently repenting inside a Pokéball has work to do."
A moment later, Sanguinius spoke again, his tone slightly teasing.
The expressions on Ferrus's iron face shifted several times, but in the end, he said nothing.
He merely let out a cold chuckle.
A xenos race possessing uncanny wisdom in the domain of the Warp?
Sounds like quite a match for a certain someone.
A pair of smiling tigers, two hornless sharks—a match made in heaven!