Terra.
Deep within the Imperial Palace, two figures walked side by side.
"So, why exactly did you drag me all the way here?"
Roboute Guilliman, the Lord Regent of the Imperium, had his brow furrowed. His massive frame forced him to look down slightly at the figure walking beside him, who appeared to inhabit a standard mortal body.
Guilliman's tone carried an obvious mix of exhaustion and impatience. No one would be in a good mood after being forcibly hauled away from a mountain of paperwork.
Adam shook his head and laughed. "Look at you, getting anxious again."
"How can I not be anxious?" Guilliman gritted his teeth. Had he not been mindful of his status, he might have snapped right there. "Do you realize that while your actions on Mars were a success in terms of reforming the Mechanicus, the impact and shock it has brought to the Imperium is staggering?"
"I spend every day cleaning up after you—the Inquisition, the Ecclesiarchy, the Astra Militarum, and the Imperial Navy. Every department supplied by the Mechanicus is sending inquiries like falling snowflakes: 'What do we do now?'"
He spoke faster and faster, his words reaching speeds that a normal human could barely track.
"And that's only because the Mechanicus has maintained a strangely inexplicable level of compliance. They are operating with an efficiency unseen even during the Great Crusade, processing matters at a speed that makes me wonder if they've deployed Abominable Intelligence! I basically don't have to worry about internal issues within the Mechanicus itself."
"Otherwise, my workload would have doubled!"
The Lord Regent's superhuman brain felt flashes of phantom pain just thinking about how much administrative work was waiting for him back in his office. You did the reforms; can't you handle the aftermath? Why must I be the one serving as a glorified scribe-servitor?
Adam waved a hand dismissively. He didn't seem ashamed; in fact, he looked rather proud. "Don't sweat the small stuff. It's all for the good of the Imperium."
He paused, and his smile faded. "Alright, let's talk business."
By now, the two had entered a giant gallery over a hundred meters high and nearly a kilometer long. Quiet light filtered down from the vaulted ceiling. Looking at the foundation and the surrounding decor, the Primarch could recognize the artistic style of the Great Crusade era.
Where exactly are we? Guilliman frowned. He knew they were inside the Imperial Palace, but he couldn't pinpoint the location. He had never known such a place existed.
They were not alone in this space. Rows of Mechanicus members hurried about, alongside a group of Prometheus Lab researchers who had regained their flesh and were now wearing white coats. They were directing various autonomous machines to transport materials. They moved through a labyrinth of cables and mechanical structures, busy with technical work that even the Primarch found difficult to decipher.
Guilliman swallowed his questions and continued forward in silence. Finally, they arrived at an expansive open area.
Guilliman looked around. In the center of the hall, the silhouette of a massive mechanical structure revealed itself. It featured a throne-like construction at the top, connected to a vast array of cables that spread across the entire space, eventually meeting a giant stone gate. The gate was engraved with countless ornate sigils and patterns.
Guilliman was surprised. The mythological figures depicted were not from the Ecclesiarchy's scriptures; they were closer to the images humanity had recovered from Ancient Terra during the Great Crusade.
"What is this?" he asked hesitantly. "It doesn't look like something the current Imperium could build."
"This is my new Webway Project," Adam said calmly, turning back.
"What?" Guilliman was stunned.
In recent days, he had managed to find some time to read the historical notes written by Adam and Ferrus. Those records revealed the history the Emperor had experienced ten thousand years ago, giving him a deep understanding of the underlying logic behind his father's actions during the Great Crusade. The thought of his father's magnificent plan being burned to ash by a single foolish move from Magnus still filled Guilliman with grief.
But wasn't the Webway gate completely sealed? How is it still here?
"This is technology from the Necrons: a Dolmen Gate," Adam explained diligently.
"This gate is technology the Necrons built to target their ancient enemies, the Aeldari. During their ancient wars, the Aeldari could use the Webway created by the Old Ones to travel everywhere. The Necrons used their understanding of the Warp to build these weapons, allowing them to briefly cut into the Webway to fight those elusive foes."
Adam raised a hand, signaling the Custodians of the Hetaeron Guard who stood in the center of the hall, spears at the ready. Among them, Guilliman recognized several familiar faces.
"As for the appearance here, it's a result of my work. The Custodians who personally fought in the Webway War have very sharp memories. So, I took the liberty of replicating the Golden Throne the Emperor sat on—a 100% accurate reproduction."
What are you so proud of? Guilliman was speechless. As a pragmatic man, he couldn't understand why Adam would be so meticulous about such an odd detail.
"So, the plan is this: you and I will enter the Webway together to explore," Adam continued. "We will use the facilities the Emperor once built in the Webway as a starting point to launch a new Webway War and clear out the Warp filth."
"In the Emperor's original plan, the Webway was the ultimate backup, a way for humanity to escape reliance on the Warp."
"We have better conditions now than the Emperor did; there's no reason not to use them. In the future battles against the Ruinous Powers, the Webway has an advantage that the Perpetual Gate wormhole transport cannot replace: it can transport space fleets."
Guilliman nodded. He certainly agreed with that logic. He pondered for a moment before turning to Adam. "I have no more questions about that. We shall enter together shortly."
Guilliman paused, then added, "But I have one other doubt, though I don't know if I should ask."
"If it involves your secrets, it's fine if you don't want to say."
Adam's transparency was something Guilliman genuinely appreciated. He had had enough of the Emperor's cryptic "riddle-master" style during the Great Crusade. Adam, by contrast, was very normal; he kept Guilliman informed on almost everything, even the conditions for his own advancement. After his experiences during the Heresy and the "Imperium Secundus" incident with Lion El'Jonson, this level of openness seemed almost magical to Guilliman.
"No problem, go ahead," Adam said, looking at him with curiosity.
"I read in the reports that you appear to be traveling through wormholes, appearing at various Forge Worlds across the galaxy to perform miracles and unify the Mechanicus. Why, then, are you still here on Terra?"
"That's simple—you might have a misunderstanding of reality-warping abilities." Adam's tone was light. "In short, I used reality warping to create a physical body out of thin air, modified it to look like myself, gave it my memories and personality, and endowed this clone with a certain level of reality strength, elevating it to a Level 3 reality warper."
He shrugged and pointed to himself. "To some extent, you can consider this 'me' as well."
"I call this D4C: Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap."
Guilliman was stunned. "This..." He opened his mouth, momentarily at a loss for words. "How does this... it doesn't seem right, does it?"
"I think it's perfectly fine," Adam said matter-of-factly. "The reality strength required to create a Level 3 reality warper is massive and precious. Given the choice, I'd rather trust myself than anyone else..."
His voice trailed off suddenly. Adam's expression became thoughtful, and an eerie light seemed to flash in his pupils.
Guilliman took a sharp breath. Though he had never seen this specific expression, his interactions with Belisarius Cawl and others had taught him what it meant.
Adam had a new idea.