Adam stood in silence, his massive Hunting Rig looking particularly out of place in the command center. A pale blue shield shimmered across the armor's surface like a solidified halo. With his current configuration, as long as the opposition didn't pull out some excessively absurd anomalous weapon, dealing with these individuals wouldn't be an issue.
Through the Omni-Converter, he had already completed a full-system enhancement of the Hunting Rig, and the individual Void Shields originally installed on the armor had been completely redesigned. After repeated testing by members of the Adeptus Mechanicus, it was confirmed that these individual Void Shields had no connection to the Warp; their defensive power was enough to make all long-range fire a joke.
The barrage poured down like a rainstorm. Energy beams and kinetic rounds struck the shield, splashing into tiny fragments of light, but the shield remained motionless, without so much as a ripple.
The attack paused briefly. Observing that their firepower was ineffective, the Foundation researchers did not hesitate. With a rhythm that seemed rehearsed countless times, they rose from their seats in unison and began an orderly evacuation, their movements as mechanical as programmed routines.
Meanwhile, the guards stepped forward simultaneously, forming a human wall. Adam's gaze swept over the insignias on their chests. In addition to the classic Foundation logo—the three inward-pointing arrows within a circle—there was another black-and-white pattern.
Nine-Tailed Fox. The Foundation's Mobile Task Force.
"I said, I come in peace. At least give us a chance to communicate." Adam's voice, influenced by a certain power, echoed through the air, causing the instrument screens to vibrate slightly.
The Nu-7 agents did not respond. They merely closed in silently, their steps synchronized and their movements precise. Their hollow eyes remained locked on Adam, weapons aimed and ready.
It seems I still have to demonstrate some power first, Adam thought.
At the same time, he activated the armor's external filtration system. This specially treated device could largely bypass anomalous memes—those lethal informational effects spread through sound, images, or specific frequencies were unavoidable in this universe.
Once everything was confirmed, Adam moved. In the next second, his silhouette pulled a blurred trail through the air, cutting into the center of the agents' defensive line with a sonic boom. One agent took a direct hit to the chest and was sent flying like a cannonball, slamming heavily into the metal bulkhead of the command center.
Boom!
A massive dent exploded into the bulkhead, and the piercing sound of twisting metal echoed through the space.
But—
The agent pulled himself out of the dent as if nothing had happened, his feet touching the ground as he stood straight. He was clearly unharmed.
Adam's pupils shrank slightly. Wait.
Just a moment ago, the agent's body had contorted into a strange posture, using his limbs to trace a distorted symbol.
Those were... Somatic Glyphs?
Dammit. Adam realized instantly what he was facing. Those qualified to learn such anomalous abilities were the absolute elite of the Foundation—techniques that triggered anomalous effects through specific body postures were not something ordinary soldiers could master.
Right then, several other agents struck their poses simultaneously. Their bodies twisted into angles that defied human ergonomics; the curvature of their fingers, the tilt of their necks, and even the rhythm of their breathing were perfectly identical.
The air began to vibrate as an invisible force condensed. Adam didn't even think; he threw himself into a side roll. The air along that path was "erased" by something, leaving a deep gouge in the floor. Metal, concrete, and the cables beneath simply vanished like pencil marks rubbed out by an eraser.
Adam cursed inwardly. He knew which damage he could take and which he had to dodge. This was exactly the trouble with the Foundation universe—you could never guess what ridiculous methods the opponent would pull out. In the Warhammer world, no matter how powerful the enemy was, there were traces to follow. He actually felt a bit nostalgic for the previous universe. It could only be said that one doesn't cherish what they have until it's gone.
The next second, a faint light flickered in Adam's eyes. His spatial perception expanded to its limit, locking onto all the agents who were striking their poses. Then—
Invisible force poured out. Reality-warping power activated, and the air instantly solidified like steel, pinning them firmly in place so they couldn't even move a finger. The half-finished poses were frozen in mid-air, like a group of statues with the pause button pressed.
"..."
A flicker of emotion finally appeared on the agents' faces. Adam walked forward slowly, the heavy footsteps of the Hunting Rig thudding against the metal floor.
"Now, can we talk?" His tone carried a hint of impatience.
The soldiers remained silent, their eyes as hollow as before, as if accepting defeat was as natural as accepting an order.
"..."
Adam kept his temper, took a deep breath, and began to patiently repeat his previous question, forcing himself to repeat his words over a dozen times. The agents only remained silent. Their gazes were empty and calm, like breathing stone statues.
It wasn't until Adam repeated himself for the seventeenth time that—
"This is pointless."
A voice spoke. Adam looked toward the source; it was the lead agent. He wore the captain's insignia of the Nine-Tailed Fox, his hollow eyes now calmly watching Adam.
"You want to interrogate me, figure out what happened, and know the truth behind our actions." He paused and repeated, "This is pointless."
Adam breathed a sigh of relief; at least they were talking. "You might have misunderstood something. I'm not trying to get information out of you—I know exactly what happened to this world."
Facing those hollow gazes, he said calmly: "You don't need to know how I know. My goal is simply the act of 'communication' itself."
This clearly exceeded the soldier's expectations. His voice remained flat: "What could you possibly know? Trying to bluff me? Or is this a new interrogation technique?"
"It seems you won't believe me unless I say something specific," Adam said slowly, his gaze sweeping over everyone present. "Where should I start? How about Project Pneuma—the research that attempted to break through the human collective unconscious?"
A look of surprise finally crossed the soldiers' faces. Adam exhaled and continued: "And the wave of suicides among your researchers following that project? Or the memetic cure, 'Hard to Heart'?"
"And finally, the root cause of all this—the anomalous entity that has resided in the human consciousness space for countless eons. You might have another name for it, but I think the name 'What Comes After' is quite fitting."
"What do you think?"