When Lion received the preliminary report about antelopes being humans, which was enough to overturn his cognition, he experienced a brief but icy shock, as if cold water had been poured over his head.
However, this was only the beginning.
In the time that followed, more and more detailed analysis reports about other bizarre creatures were sent back from the various reconnaissance fleets like snowflakes, converging on the flagship Invincible Truth and presented before Lion.
Every report pointed to the same spine-chilling conclusion...
The genetic essence of those alien creatures distributed across various planets, with vastly different forms and functions, were actually all human.
Lion's face was as gloomy as the sky before a storm.
He returned to the central console once again, and almost simultaneously, three solid hard-light holographic images rapidly formed beside him—
The images of Mortarion, Perturabo, and Curze descended once more.
Although the three Primarchs had vastly different personalities—one gloomy, one rigorous, and one eerie—upon receiving these continuous and horrifying reports, their reactions at this moment were surprisingly identical: fury and astonishment.
What could make the Primarchs feel astonished was their discovery that humanity in this universe had not simply died out, but had been forcibly transformed by some unimaginable, extremely cruel power in a twisted manner into their current deformed appearances, neither human nor ghost!
This completely violated the natural laws of life and human dignity.
And what made the Primarchs furious was precisely this same fact—
Humans, their blood-related compatriots who should have been part of the Emperor's subjects, had been so desecrated and twisted, turned into crawling monsters that had lost their human forms and possibly even their humanity!
This atrocity touched the deepest bottom line of protecting humanity within every Primarch's heart, igniting their overwhelming fury.
"The technicians of my company have conducted deep physiological scans on the captured worm and predator samples."
Mortarion's voice transmitted over was even more bone-chilling than usual, carrying a suppressed storm. "Analysis shows that these creatures... no, or rather these compatriots who are enduring unimaginable agony, have had their nervous systems forcibly reconstructed, and their physiological structures are full of contradictory and painful designs.
Whether it is their surviving consciousness or their twisted bodies, they are enduring torture beyond their limits at every moment. This is not just a change in form; this is an eternal torment inflicted upon their souls and flesh!"
Curze's image was shrouded in its usual shadows, but the chill in his words was clearly discernible. "The situation on my end might be more complex, and more cruel.
For those antelope humans we found, the preliminary consciousness probe feedback from the technicians indicates that they seem to have miraculously... or rather, cursedly retained an almost complete human consciousness and thought pattern.
They can think, they can feel, and they possess memories and emotions, yet they are trapped in those mute shells that can only graze on grass."
He paused. "Now, the experts in the Bio-Division are attempting to directly read the memory fragments deep within their consciousness through more refined neural interfaces.
It probably won't be long before we can relatively completely piece together exactly what kind of terrifying disaster this universe encountered in the distant past."
At this moment, Perturabo, who had been staring at the data stream with an increasingly ugly expression, suddenly slammed his fist onto the virtual console interface.
Although it was just a holographic image, the fury contained in that action was incredibly real. He was always known for his calmness and logic, but at this moment, this Primarch's face was filled with a sudden, violent rage that almost materialized.
"Brothers..."
Perturabo's voice trembled slightly from extreme anger, carrying a rare and almost choking suppression. "My Third Reconnaissance Company discovered on the planet Grum IV a kind of...
A kind of compatriot... modified to the point...
That I cannot use words to describe even a ten-thousandth of..."
He seemed to want to describe it, but the words stuck in his throat, ultimately turning into a painful, low growl. "They... forget it, I still cannot bear to describe it with words. See for yourselves."
Saying so, he directly projected a highest-priority reconnaissance video onto the central holographic screen.
!!!
The scene displayed in the video made the air in the bridge instantly freeze, and it also caused the pupils of the other three Primarchs to suddenly constrict, boundless fury erupting in their eyes like a volcano.
It was a dark red planetary surface, as if stripped of all vegetation.
And covering this vast land was not rock or gravel, but a layer of...
Living, slowly writhing, massive meat blanket composed of muscle and skin!
This meat blanket was boundless, and one could vaguely see twisted faces retaining some human contours surfacing, struggling, and then sinking back down.
They retained their eyes, and possibly even complete consciousness, yet they were interconnected and fused together in an extremely terrifying manner akin to a neural network, covering the entire planet's ground like a living carpet of eternal agony.
This was an ultimate desecration of life forms and individual existence that surpassed any known torture.
"Enough!"
Lion's voice was like an unsheathed sword, slashing through this suffocatingly horrifying scene.
His face seemed covered in frost, his eyes burning with a fury capable of incinerating stars.
"In the name of the Warmaster, I order: all Primarchs, prepare immediately to head to the planet Grum IV in person! We must witness this sin with our own eyes, and we will make those who inflicted such atrocities pay an eternal price!"
He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his boiling killing intent. "At the same time, immediately upload all our findings in this universe, especially the evidence regarding the modification of humanity, to Father at the highest encryption level! He needs to know everything that has happened here."
"Understood!"
"It is only right!"
"Blood debts must be paid in blood!"
The three Primarchs—Mortarion, Perturabo, and Curze—responded simultaneously without hesitation, their fury resonating at the same frequency as Lion's.
And Chris Redfield, who had been listening from the side all along, now also had his fists tightly clenched, his nails almost digging into his palms, his face filled with irrepressible, extreme anger.
He had experienced many nightmares and witnessed countless terrors, but in the decades since he joined the Imperial Investigation Division, he had never encountered such a systematic and thorough terrifying scenario that trampled on human dignity and form.
This was no longer war, but a crime against the very concept of humanity!
However, Chris was well aware of his duties and positioning.
He did not say much, merely maintaining his silence, adjusting his breathing, and waiting for the moment his special ops team was needed,
The moment they would be deployed into the battlefield.
He knew that when the fury of the Primarchs descended, they would inevitably need the most professional sharp knives to tear open the enemy's rear defense lines.
And he, along with his team members, was already prepared.
Main Universe Earth, deep within the Imperial Palace, the Meditation Hall.
The silence here was like something substantial, as if even time itself had frozen here. Only the eternally flowing energy deep within the Golden Throne emitted a low and continuous hum, echoing in this small space like the heartbeat of the universe.
Samuel Young sat upright upon the throne, his posture as straight as an eternally unchanging mountain range, his half-closed eyes concealing the starlight contained within them.
His calm face was like a bottomless abyssal sea, bearing the torrents of information surging from all over the Empire's territories, while simultaneously resisting the pervasive erosion of whispers.
At some immeasurable instant, his face, calm as water, suddenly rippled.
His brows suddenly furrowed, like two sharp swords abruptly unsheathed.
Immediately after, those golden pupils, containing the scenes of the birth and death of the sea of stars, snapped open.
In those eyes, usually as deep as the universe, a clearly visible fury now ignited. That fury was like tangible flames, shrouding his historically unperturbed face under a layer of obvious rage.
Without the need for any Descendant's report, his vast and boundless psionic perception had already crossed the universal barriers, accurately capturing the torrent of negative emotions transmitting from the direction of the 22nd Universe.
That was a monstrous sea of blood formed by the painful wails, desperate struggles, and silent indignation of billions of twisted compatriots. The cry of every single soul was like the sharpest spike, piercing through layers of time and space, striking directly at his core will as the guardian of humanity.
Mixed within this torrent was the severe pain of modified flesh, the grief of losing loved ones, and the eternal fear of their own forms. They wove together into a massive web of agony, shrouding the entire universe under the shadow of despair.
Almost at the exact moment he opened his eyes, the communication with the highest encryption level arrived as expected.
The detailed report from Lion and the others regarding the 22nd Universe arrived simultaneously, the flood of information perfectly matching his psionic perception.
The moment the communication connected, it was as if an invisible energy barrier was added within the Meditation Hall, completely isolating this place from the outside world.
Samuel Young raised his hand and waved it lightly, and a massive holographic screen unfolded before the throne in response.
Ripples like water waves appeared on the screen's surface, and then it began to present the shocking evidence.
The first to appear was the genetic comparison report; those abnormal genetic sequences marked in red were like twisted poisonous snakes, slowly slithering across the screen.
Next was the behavioral analysis record, which detailed the process of how the modified victims were reduced from complete humans to monsters. Every stage was accompanied by unimaginable agony.
Finally, there were the images of those creatures modified beyond recognition:
Degenerated worms squirmed in viscous liquids; they were once human, but now only basic physiological needs remained;
Giants with mutated limbs hobbled among the ruins, every step triggering the crisp sound of bone dislocation;
Compatriots treated as prey fled across desolate lands, relentlessly pursued by modified creatures behind them;
The most suffocating were those colonial humans, countless pairs of eyes embedded on the meat blanket covering the entire land. Every pair of eyes spoke of eternal suffering; they had lost their mobility but retained complete perception, forever enduring the torment brought by this inhuman predicament.
Staring at this evidence, Samuel Young's heart was already clear.
This 22nd Universe was exactly the universe of All Tomorrows in his memory, which depicted the darkest possibilities for humanity.
This realization was like a block of solid ice, sinking into the bottom of his heart.
The synopsis of All Tomorrows clearly surfaced in his mind:
Humanity had completely unified after the civil war in the solar system and carried out large-scale interstellar expansion. Due to the inability to travel at fast speeds, they adopted genetic modification engineering so that humans could better survive on different planets.
But this action had angered the Qu civilization, which upheld a twisted transformation mission.
This civilization, using the excuse of perfecting life forms, viewed humanity as experimental materials that could be modified at will.
The vast majority of humans died in the war, and the survivors were treated as biological materials, modified into sub-human species with various forms and functions.
True humans within the galaxy went extinct, leaving only a few exiles wandering in space, maintaining a slim hope like a candle flickering in the wind.
This memory was carved deep into his consciousness like a brand, yet it was now reawakened by the cruel reality.
Samuel Young could not be sure which point on the timeline the 22nd Universe was currently at—
Whether it was the moment of destruction shortly after the Qu arrived, the long despair after the modifications were completed, or the stage of the exiles' return and the Galactic Alliance.
But no matter what, the suffering of humanity had already become an established fact.
Every possible node meant a different form of agony.
If it was the moment of destruction, what he heard was the screams of billions of lives perishing instantly;
If it was after the modification, what he perceived was the numbness under eternal torment, the final sigh of the entire universe.
In comparison, although the situation in the 21st Universe was equally heartbreaking, at least the main body of human civilization still existed, and the enemy's threat level was clear. After all, it was the most classic shooting game universe he had played before crossing over, namely Half-Life 2.
With the power of just the Salamanders Legion alone, it was enough to sweep away the so-called Combined Empire's rule on Earth and liberate the enslaved compatriots there.
The subsequent integration and reconstruction work were also proceeding methodically, genuinely requiring no excessive distraction from him.
Although humanity in that universe suffered oppression, at least they still maintained their complete human form and the spark of civilization.
But...
When his gaze fixed once again upon the images of the colonial humans on the holographic screen, the last trace of hesitation in Samuel Young's eyes completely dissipated.
Those compatriots modified by the Qu civilization until only sensory organs and basic life tissues remained, connected into a living carpet covering the entire planet via a neural network—this extreme desecration had already surpassed the scope of conventional warfare.
This was not merely a devastation of the flesh, but a trampling of the very concept of humanity itself.
Every colonial human was like an eternal torture rack, nailing human dignity to the pillar of shame.
With unquestionable resolve, he stood up from the Golden Throne.
This seemingly simple action caused the space of the entire Meditation Hall to tremble.
The golden psionic radiance lingering around him became increasingly blazing, like a supernova about to explode, dyeing every corner of the hall with a sacred and majestic gold.
The air around the throne began to distort, and the humming sound of the energy flow sharply escalated, as if responding to its master's fury.
It appeared that this human Emperor of the main universe Empire was preparing to personally make a trip to the 22nd Universe.
He was going to witness with his own eyes that ultimate sin committed by the Qu civilization, which surpassed anything any alien or Chaos could imagine;
He was going to comfort the souls of those compatriots who had struggled in endless agony for an unknown number of years;
He was going to find that Qu civilization which styled itself as the modifier, and make them understand just how heavy the price would be for angering and desecrating humanity.
Every modified human was a blood debt that needed to be repaid, and every twisted soul needed to be redeemed.
The Emperor's fury was about to cross the boundaries of the universe and descend upon that world full of sorrow and distortion.
This fury would purify all sins, this fury would end all suffering, and this fury would make those desecrators of life understand that humanity has never been an experimental subject to be manipulated at will...
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