The tear in reality was silent, a razor-thin fissure of impossible colors that sliced through the decaying plenum of the Space Hulk. It lasted for less than a second before sealing itself, leaving behind a solitary figure standing in the cavernous, rust-stained corridor.
The being, who called himself Rimuru Tempest, took a moment to acclimate. He wore the form of a beautiful, androgynous human with long, silver-blue hair, a form that belied his true nature as an Ultimate Slime—a True Dragon, one of the fundamental pillars of his own world.
His arrival was the result of a dimensional travel experiment that had, according to the god-like computational entity within his soul, gone flawlessly wrong.
Within his mind, a near-instantaneous report was delivered by his partner, Manas: Ciel.
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Rimuru processed the information with a placid curiosity. To him, this was less a crisis and more an unscheduled field trip. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and ancient decay, and the architecture was a brutalist mockery of faith he found fascinating. Skulls and eagles were everywhere, a morbid motif for what felt like a tomb.
It was a tomb that was far from quiet.
Distant screams and the percussive rhythm of explosive weaponry echoed through the metallic halls. A conflict was underway. Deciding that observation was the first step to understanding, Rimuru began a leisurely stroll toward the source of the noise.
In the desecrated nave of a derelict Imperial chapel, Brother-Librarian Corvus of the Ultramarines held the line. His Mark X Tacticus power armor was scarred and dented, but his resolve was iron. Around him, his brothers of Kill Team Cassian fought with the cold, practiced fury of the Adeptus Astartes.
"For the Emperor!" a battle-brother roared, his chainsword chewing through the chitinous flesh of a Genestealer.
Corvus felt the Hive Mind's psychic presence as a nauseating shriek in the warp, a singular, ravenous desire to consume. He countered it with the litanies of his chapter, his mind a fortress of faith. The Genestealers, vanguard organisms of the Great Devourer, were an endless tide of claws and fangs, but the Ultramarines were the Emperor's finest. They would not break.
As he prepared to unleash another bolt of psychic energy from his force sword, Corvus froze.
His finely-honed psychic senses screamed. A new presence had emerged on the battlefield. It was not the chaotic filth of a daemon, nor the screeching void of the Tyranids. It was something else entirely. It was a presence of incomprehensible depth, a power so vast and utterly serene it felt like a silent, unmoving ocean next to the raging storm of the warp.
He turned his helmeted head, his red eye-lenses zooming in. There, standing casually behind a ruined pillar, was a figure. It appeared unarmed, unarmored, and impossibly clean amidst the carnage and filth. Its silver hair seemed to absorb the dim light, and its golden eyes held a calm, analytical gaze.
Corvus's mind reeled. Xenos. It had to be. Some strange, unknown variant of Eldar, perhaps? No, the presence was wrong. It was too stable, too… absolute.
"Cease your prattling and fight, Corvus!" Sergeant Cassian bellowed over the vox. "The beasts are upon you!"
Ignoring his Sergeant, Corvus raised a gauntlet and focused his will. The air around the newcomer shimmered. "Identify yourself, xenos!" he boomed, his voice a synthesized snarl of command. "Speak now, in the name of the God-Emperor of Mankind!"
The being offered a disarmingly friendly smile. "Hello there! My name is Rimuru Tempest. I seem to be a little lost. Could you point me to the nearest town?"
The sheer absurdity of the question, delivered in a tone of polite inquiry amidst a life-or-death struggle, stunned the nearby Space Marines into a brief, lethal hesitation. A battle-brother was swarmed and torn apart in that moment of confusion.
Rage, cold and pure, washed through Corvus. This creature, whatever it was, was mocking them. It was an affront to their struggle, their sacrifice, and the holy human form.
"Your heresy ends here!" Corvus roared, unleashing a potent psychic assault. A lance of pure, aetheric force, honed to tear apart the very soul of a being, shot across the chamber.
For Rimuru, the attack was an interesting phenomenon. He felt the hostile intent, the needle-sharp energy designed to unmake a mind. He watched it approach, and on the silent command of his will, his Ultimate Skill, Void God Azathoth, activated.
The psychic lance did not impact a shield. It did not explode or fizzle. One moment it was a roaring spear of blue energy, and the next, it had simply ceased to exist, consumed by a power that treated reality as a suggestion.
Rimuru's pleasant smile never wavered. "That's not a very nice way to greet a tourist."
Silence fell over the Ultramarines. The Genestealers continued their shrieking charge, but the Astartes were frozen, their attention locked on the being who had just effortlessly erased a Librarian's attack. Corvus felt a tremor of something he hadn't experienced since he was a mortal boy on Macragge. It was not mere fear, but a profound, instinctual dread. This being was not on their level. It was not on any level he could comprehend.
"What… what are you?" Corvus whispered, the words barely carrying over his own vox-emitter.
The golden-eyed being tilted its head, an expression of gentle amusement on its face.
"I'm just a friendly slime," it replied. "Now, about those directions?"