"That was indeed unexpected."
After a brief moment of speechlessness, Adam lowered the hand covering his cheek, his eyes refocusing on the report.
To be honest, even at this very moment, he still felt it was somewhat unbelievable.
How on earth could it be the Great Devourer?
One had to keep in mind that the advance forces of this nasty piece of work were supposed to arrive in the galaxy only many years into the future.
In Adam's memory, the Second Tyrannic War broke out around 990.M41, leaving at least a hundred-year cushion from the present day.
Precisely because of this, Adam hadn't given it much thought.
After all, taking a step back, if Chaos truly dared to grant a certain reality warper a hundred years to develop, the game would likely have ended long ago.
Even the most terrifying conflict between the Imperium and the Tyranids in Adam's memory—the Fourth Tyrannic War—had occurred after the Great Rift opened in the original timeline, early in M42.
It should have broken out only in the very late stages.
So how had this Great Devourer suddenly and inexplicably spawned right in front of his face?
Adam pondered for a moment, then raised his head, a look of sudden realization dawning on him.
His judgment was swift—so swift it seemed to require no deliberation at all.
"I get it—this must be another plot by the Four Chaos Gods!"
Adam's tone was absolute.
To deal with this rapidly rising Imperium of Man, the Four Gods of Chaos were essentially going all-in.
After all, in Adam's memory, the Great Devourer was an entity of psychic hive consciousness in the Warp fully on par with the Four Chaos Gods.
If such a terrifying entity entered the galaxy, even the Ruinous Powers behind the veil would have a terrible time.
Yet despite that, they had done it anyway—like a cornered dog leaping over a wall.
"It seems you really have pushed them to their limits," Guilliman said.
He paused, then asked, "So here is a question—who will be next?"
As he spoke, the Primarch stood up, crossing his arms over his chest before his desk. Little expression could be read on his marble-carved face, but a trace of uncertainty laced his voice.
"The four threats you listed in the council chamber—Tyranids, Orks, Necrons, Eldar. Now the Tyranids have come to pass. Will everything else you mentioned come true one by one...?"
He did not finish the sentence.
Yet the implication was clearly laid out.
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"
Adam's tone did not waver in the slightest.
"This is definitely NOT my fault!"
'He's not just being stubborn, is he...?'
Guilliman shot him a glance, extremely complex emotions tumbling within his blue eyes.
In the end, however, he chose not to dwell on the matter.
The Lord Regent took a deep breath, bringing his attention back to what truly mattered.
"So how do we address this issue now? The only intel we currently have is that the leader of the Necrons has engaged the Tyranids' main force."
His finger tapped lightly against the Inquisition's report.
"How do we handle it?"
Adam fell silent.
His gaze drifted through the air as if positioning every single variable in his mind into its proper place.
A moment later, the reality warper suddenly blinked, his eyes lighting up as he raised a finger.
"Aha! I have an idea."
Guilliman waited silently for him to continue.
"At a time like this, we need to analyze things first," Adam said.
He reached out, sliding the report on the desk aside, as though clearing a clean space for his upcoming deduction.
Then, Adam gestured. Virtual projections of light and shadows appeared, categorizing thoughts and aggregating pieces of intelligence one by one.
"First, regarding the disposition of both sides, it takes little effort to deduce that the Great Devourer is currently strong, while the Necrons—not operating at full strength—are the weaker party."
"Szarekh the Silent King's rally is indeed loud, but behind a loud rally often lies reality's dire straits."
"If he were truly confident, why would he need to rally other Necrons and expose his weakness for nothing?"
After all, Adam knew full well that things were far from peaceful within Necron ranks at this moment.
Imotekh the Stormlord, Phaeron of the Sautekh Dynasty, had already openly raised the banner of rebellion, attempting to stage a Necron version of a grand mutiny against the Silent King.
'Let the Galaxy Burn.mp3'
"Furthermore, even if Necron technology stands unrivaled across the galaxy, with the Command Protocols destroyed, the tomb worlds across the galaxy are nothing more than loose sand. You can't expect every Phaeron to abandon their own petty schemes and obediently return under the banner of the Triarch."
Adam paused, raising his finger further.
"Therefore, Necrons who aren't of one mind pose far less danger to an awakened Imperium than that Great Devourer currently gorging itself on a buffet outside the galaxy."
Guilliman's brow furrowed slightly, though he did not interrupt.
After all, these were hard facts.
Yet thinking about such a grim reality offered little reason for cheer.
"So, my judgment is clear."
Adam's gaze turned sharp.
"Deal with the Great Devourer first. It must be crushed firmly outside the galaxy. We cannot allow it to rush inside and consume excess biomass. Once that hive fleet devours enough sustenance—we all know what will happen."
"However..."
Adam's voice dropped slightly.
A trace of doubt flickered in his eyes. "We need to be careful. This is the Great Devourer arriving in person; it may not follow the patterns of past Tyranid hive fleets."
Guilliman's breathing hitched slightly.
"Still, that's a topic for later."
Adam suddenly gestured, dispersing the suffocating silence.
He raised his head.
The air began to distort.
It was a more fundamental anomaly, as if reality itself was being shaken.
Lines of energy drifted slowly around Adam like transparent ripples.
Countless faint, shimmering patterns emerged in the air, as though the spatiotemporal structure of the entire office had softened at this moment.
Guilliman instinctively leaned back slightly.
It wasn't out of fear—having witnessed what this fellow had done at Cadia and Pandorax, if Guilliman were to feel fear, he would have felt it long ago.
Yet since that war concluded, Adam had indeed undergone another change within the Primarch's perception.
As if... he had ascended yet another step higher.
Naturally, Adam didn't know the thoughts turning in Guilliman's mind at the moment, nor would he be surprised if he did.
After all, he had slain a Primarch and used the methods of a reality warper to ensure its Warp essence was thoroughly consumed, digested, and absorbed.
Add to that the damage caused within the domains of the Chaos Powers by the four mighty commanders Adam had deployed during the Warp battle, and the number of souls he had devoured had reached a colossal figure by now.
An increase in reality-warping potency was only a natural result.
"So, what plan do you have now?" Guilliman asked.
His voice was steady as usual, but a hint of curiosity was hidden beneath his tone.
In truth, Guilliman had every reason to be curious.
Having grown accustomed to Adam's mind-boggling operations, the Lord Regent of the Imperium was no longer surprised by anything absurd.
He even felt a subtle anticipation—what miraculous trick would this fellow produce next?
Adam took a deep breath.
"Next... I have a new idea."
Guilliman raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"I am going to tell a story that only I know," Adam said solemnly.
"Huh?"
Guilliman was stunned. Even after preparing himself mentally, he doubted his ears for a second. "What do you mean?"
Adam raised a hand, thoughtfully stroking his chin.
"I just recalled a genuine truth hidden within the mists of history."
His tone was deliberate, every word articulated with absolute clarity.
"After the discussion in the secret council chamber concluded, I had actually already realized back then that the Great Devourer was a threat that could easily arrive."
Guilliman: "Ah?"
'How come I knew nothing about this?'
"So..."
Adam spread his hands, flashing a brilliant smile.
"Back then, I made a decision. My true body had actually already departed for the space beyond the galaxy. And the me standing right here, talking to you..."
"...is merely a fake clone."
A short silence fell.
Guilliman's Primarch-level brain experienced a rare moment of complete standstill.
"What gibberish are you talking about?"
Could High Gothic words even be arranged like that?
Yet Adam offered no further explanation; he merely let out a soft laugh.
"If I say it is, it is!"
His tone was exceptionally earnest, yet unyielding.
Like a verdict.
Like destiny.
—This was the truest reality.
---
At this very moment, on the other side.
Beyond the galaxy.
Within the void, Adam's form materialized out of nothingness into reality.
Without any warning, without any glow. He was simply there as if he had existed all along—only no one had been able to see him before.
He had followed the turbulence of the Warp, traveling in a flash across distances hard to measure even in light-years.
Throughout this unknown stretch of history, he had departed from that distant birthplace of humanity, Terra, arriving in this void outside the galaxy to wander and wait.
Ultimately, the reality warper got his wish, finally witnessing the history he had been waiting for unfold.
He raised his head.
Unfolded before Adam was a brutal and tragic battle.
Countless wrecks floated through the void.
Fragments of Necron tomb ships flickered with cold green sheen in the dim light, their sharp-angled noctilith structures shattered by Tyranid bio-weapons, drifting scattered across space like broken tombstones.
On the other side, Tyranid carcasses covered the area just as extensively. Massive chitinous carapace fragments floated alongside severed tentacles that retained a hideous posture long after losing their hosts.
Yet on this battlefield, aside from wrecks, there were only wrecks.
Adam could see that the Necron fleet had already been overwhelmed by numbers, retreating step by step.
Or rather—this was a tactical withdrawal; those Necrons had pulled back to a more distant area to regroup their forces.
Adam's gaze swept across the battlefield, and then his pupils contracted slightly.
His previous guess had indeed become reality.
In the boundless void, Adam saw a burning energy phantom charging back and forth like a trapped inferno.
It was a C'tan Shard.
It burned, it roared, its wild power like a never-ending solar storm painting the entire void in a gruesome crimson.
Yet a C'tan Shard possessing such terrifying power was currently trapped.
Tens of thousands of bio-tendrils wrapped in from every direction, each as thick as the main beam of a giant warship, tightly interwoven to bind that C'tan Shard firmly in place.
Even more terrifyingly, a vast, unbelievable surge of Warp psychic energy pulsed through those tendrils.
It acted like an invisible net, suppressing the shard firmly on the spot.
And most incredible of all, those tendrils were siphoning.
They were drawing out the vast power contained within that C'tan Shard's body.
Yes—that was the true reason for the Necron retreat.
Evidently, the arriving Great Devourer was no ordinary opponent.
To consume even more, the Tyranids' main fleet was using the C'tan Shard as raw nourishment.
"Interesting."
Adam raised his eyes, and the true main force of the swarm finally entered his vision.
They surged from the depths of the void.
Not from a single rift, nor as a mere shadow. It was the entire field of view—up, down, left, right, in all directions.
Layers of pitch-black chitinous carapaces piled together, forming a tide with a rhythm akin to breathing.
Uncounted tentacles and claws extended from the edges of those giant bio-ships, waving slowly in the void like greedy tongues licking a cold world.
Their numbers were too vast.
They defied statistical calculation; this was the entire void, extending in any direction from Adam's position across uncounted astronomical units—all filled by the Great Devourer's hive fleet.
It could no longer be described simply as a fleet.
They were more like the void itself, mimicking the shape of a fleet.
Like an endlessly stretching wall.
Infinite in length, infinite in width, infinite in depth.
Dark.
Boundless.
Like the shadow of despair.
Uncounted eyes across that hive fleet looked toward a specific position in the void simultaneously.
They looked at that tiny figure floating quietly in space—a figure that brought waves of threat to an entity that had devoured uncounted civilizations.
Yet Adam felt not a shred of fear.
In the cold, silent vacuum, he spoke calmly.
His voice spread across the entire void through an unknown medium—not via sound waves, nor through any known communication technology.
It was something far more fundamental, like an echo of reality itself.
Adam smiled and said softly, "Just to be clear—you're the challenger here!"