"Even though the enemy is somewhat strong, I believe we can still handle it."
The Emperor was exceedingly confident in the current strength of the Imperium.
Tyranids? I'll just deploy Abominable Intelligence!
Necrons? I'll still deploy Abominable Intelligence!
It wasn't as if they were the only ones who could compete in sheer numbers. What did the Imperium rely on to rise? It was none other than its mighty ships, devastating cannons, and human-wave tactics. The Imperial Auxilia and the countless warships and weaponry far outnumbered the Abominable Intelligence.
It was no exaggeration to say that every single campaign the Imperium waged nowadays was built upon Abominable Intelligence and human lives; behind every victory, millions of lives were spent to fill the gap.
The casualty rate among the Astartes had dropped significantly, but the casualty rate among the Imperial Auxilia remained stubbornly high.
Waging interstellar warfare still required the flesh and blood of mortals. Even though they underwent a certain degree of augmentation, their mortality rate remained staggering.
Even though Perturabo had made great efforts to alleviate this, the death toll within the armored corps had only partially decreased.
No matter how fierce the firepower, when the heavy guns of both sides were trading blows, even the greatest armored vanguard would inevitably produce a few unlucky casualties. It was simply unavoidable.
The true extent of what Perturabo could do now was to do his best to usher their souls under his own banner, but those among the masses who could actually draw his personal attention were few and far jewelry.
The Emperor was even more detached; unless someone reached the caliber of a Star of Terra, they would hardly be noticed. Such was the current reality of the Imperial Auxilia.
Aside from a small portion who earned high honors and managed to survive until retirement age—allowing them to enjoy the rest of their days on peaceful Homeworlds or Paradise Worlds—the vast majority of people would die in complete obscurity.
Their families would suffer endless oppression in the rear, and even if they survived, they would become utterly numb.
Corvus Corax had nearly clashed head-on with Guilliman and Perturabo over this matter. Yet it was clear that even he had no way to establish a better order to replace the existing system.
The most extreme in this regard was Konrad Curze. He was a certified maniac; though he was much better now, he remained completely indifferent to the political apparatus of the Imperium.
Currently, both Primarchs and the majority of the Chapters under their command were besieging the Solar Segmentum where "Roboute" was located. They rarely returned, as they had no desire to face a reality they were powerless to change—a psychological escape of sorts.
Guilliman had exhausted his efforts to scour the phrasing of those edicts to alter them, attempting to alleviate as much pressure as possible for the low-to-mid-tier humans. However, what he had accomplished thus far was akin to trying to extinguish a burning house with a cup of water.
After all, every single echelon of the Imperium was suffering right now. Even the minor aristocrats from before had no room to make trouble, honestly surrendering generation after generation of lives under the rule of the Imperium to serve as bricks for its foundation.
By comparison, though war was equally numbing, it at least offered the justification of "for the future of the Imperium and humanity" to keep them going.
However, this cycle absolutely could not last too long; two centuries was already the absolute limit. Thus, generally speaking, once mortals had served up to this time limit—excluding certain special officers and Commissars—the Imperium would enforce their mandatory retirement.
"We can deal with them, yes, but you must not forget that we are currently beset by enemies on all sides. What if Chaos resurfaces just as we are engaging the Swarm and the Necrons?"
"They certainly don't get along either, but currently, our territory is the largest across several galaxies. No matter what, our losses will always be the heaviest."
Perturabo naturally did not fear the Necrons or the Swarm, but not fearing them did not mean the current Imperium was fully equipped to handle these foes.
The Great Devourer and the Silent King were by no means pushovers. Merely dealing with them was already difficult enough, let alone a Chaos faction that was gradually recovering.
Although Perturabo could be certain there was a cushion of at least ten thousand years, it also meant the Imperium had practically no time to allow its wheels to slow down.
Humanity would continue to live this numb existence, which ran entirely counter to Perturabo's original intent.
The Emperor turned the thought over in his mind and felt it made sense, yet something felt inherently wrong.
Back when the Imperium was nowhere near this powerful, during that true moment of existential peril, the Emperor had been anxious, but he had never been plagued by this kind of worry.
How was it that now, when the Imperium had grown so strong—though not quite as prosperous as the Great Crusade's Golden Age—he was becoming increasingly anxious?
He had to consider this and that all day long. Why was peace more mentally taxing than times of war and chaos?
The Emperor's mind, which possessed little in the way of political intellect, could not fathom this point—just as he had never considered the consequences of failure when he originally took out those immense "loans" from the Warp.
"Then what do you think we should do now?"
The Emperor had no good solution for this matter. He hadn't known from the start that there would be so many enemies and unforeseen variables.
Back during the Great Crusade, he had prophesied that the worst possible outcome would merely be himself sitting upon the Golden Throne for all eternity. Yet the widespread proliferation of Abominable Intelligence within the Imperium now, and the Warp currently interconnecting five galaxies, were events beyond even the Emperor's predictions.
"We take things as they come. What else can we do? We can't dig up much from the Tomb Worlds right now, so we can't weaken their strength by much."
"Don't even mention launching a preemptive strike. The Swarm is outside the galaxy. If we go out there without the logic engines and without the Astronomican, we won't even have coordinates to return by."
Perturabo felt somewhat helpless. He didn't fear these enemies, but the stability and continuous development of the Imperium were paramount now. He, the Emperor, and their brothers simply could not abandon the Imperium's current foundation.
They had strived for so long, only for the Imperium to plunge back into the same impending doom as before. No one could allow such a thing to happen.
Ultimately, there were too many attachments. If Chaos hadn't pulled that stunt, the current Imperium would never have fallen into this predicament.
Perturabo could have led his scions to construct grand monuments, perhaps even surging beyond the galaxy to erect more Fortress Worlds, slowly developing over time.
He could have had a much easier life. Yet here he was, still upgrading warships, weapons, and armor, and occasionally having to research with the Emperor how to help their two brothers return to normal, optimizing the Grey Knights once more, solving the gene-seed stability issues of the Deathwatch Chapters...
Perturabo did not resent these tasks, because these were his hobbies; he enjoyed this line of work.
But now, everything was ruined by this suffocating, heavy sense of corporate exhaustion. If it were possible, Perturabo truly wished to return to the moment right after the Great Crusade had just concluded; that was when he was closest to his ideal life.
Damn that blue bird. If it hadn't thought of bringing those traitors from other universes, Chaos wouldn't even have had the brains to figure out they could play it this way.
"Forget it, leave it aside for now. Come over and help me look at this. Can the genetic sequence of the Second still be altered? I think this gene fragment could be modified, maybe—"
"Chapter Master, we have tracked the coordinates of that fleet."
Nyx stared at the fleet appearing upon the logic engine, finally understanding why they could cause that kind of destruction.
Calling this a fleet was a misnomer; this was clearly a massive swarm of colossal insects. Each and every warship was a giant organism.
These massive bio-ships feared neither vacuum nor radiation, nor were they deterred by extreme cold or scorching heat, sailing arrogantly through the void of space.
Furthermore, Nyx and his men could distinctly spot some anomalous features upon these bio-ships.
Their hulls seemed to be encased in lingering parts that looked somewhat discordant with their bodies, resembling cybernetic prosthetics that had only recently been attached.
Coupled with those pitch-black traits and the immense psychic resonance detected by the logic engine, Nyx recalled the description of this xenos breed previously recorded on the logic engines.
Tyranid Hive Mind: Extreme Threat. Possesses superhuman adaptive capabilities. Capable of strengthening themselves by absorbing biomass to acquire genetic sequences...
The entries described this xenos breed in great detail. Although Nyx and his men had never encountered them from the Great Crusade until now, almost every Legion and fleet in the Imperium was aware of their existence.
For no other reason than because only two xenos breeds had been placed onto the most dangerous black-and-red watchlists by the Warmaster.
One was the Necrons, and the other was this Tyranid Swarm that they had previously never heard of.
Now, the Imperium had crossed paths with them.
"Report this situation to the Deathwatch and the Dark Angels. While you're at it, report the current state of affairs to the Imperium and the Warmaster."
Nyx knew that the enemy before them might not be considered overwhelmingly powerful, but he knew the Swarm possessed terrifying numbers. Moreover, they were incredibly horrific; there were bound to be an immense number of tendrils that had already extended into the galaxy behind them.
For the Warmaster to categorize them under the exact same threat level as the Necrons... Nyx had witnessed the terror of the Necron Dynasties before.
Those skeletal chassis hadn't even fully awakened, yet they had already inflicted massive casualties upon an entire Chapter. Nyx found it difficult to imagine what it would look like if this xenos race fully awoke.
But now, an enemy just as dangerous and lethal had arrived, and they weren't slumbering.
"Chapter Master Nyx."
A relatively deep but resounding voice echoed from the vox. Nyx could tell exactly who it was.
"Chapter Master Corswain."
"Be sure to maintain visual contact with this Hive Fleet. I will lead my Chapter over to assist shortly. Commander Rhode of the Deathwatch, along with the Black Dragons Chapter and the Flashing Blades Chapter, are already rushing toward your position. We can corner this fleet in three days."
"Understood. Rest assured."
"Do not grow careless. The enemy this time is highly dangerous. It is very likely that many more Hive Fleets have already arrived within the five galaxies controlled by the Imperium. The one we have encountered is likely just one of many. You must pay attention to whether they establish contact with other fleets."
"No anomalies detected at present. We will continue to follow up on this matter."
"Thank you for your trouble, Brother Nyx. The Emperor and the Warmaster also require live samples of these Tyranids. We may need to cooperate when the time comes to capture some of these bugs."
"Very well."
The Dark Knights Chapter arrived even earlier than anticipated. Nyx had rarely seen this individual, who stood as the Paladin-Captain of the Dark Angels and the Seneschal to the Lion.
He was clad in dark armor, the black sword emblem on his pauldrons looking somewhat similar to the Black Templars, yet the style of the Dark Knights was more restrained, stoic, and incredibly mysterious.
Corswain's physical stature was even more immense. Standing at three meters tall, outfitted in power armor modified from Cataphractii Terminator armor, and sporting an Iron Halo and a deep green cloak behind him, he looked filled with power yet remarkably swift.
Nyx felt that this Chapter Master truly earned his title as the Lion's Seneschal. He could clearly perceive that if the two of them were to duel, he would likely be thrown down in less than ten moves.
An opponent of this echelon would likely require the intervention of the Legion's strongest Shadow Master, Alastor Rushal, to stand a chance. Nyx was still quite a distance away from a realm of this level.
Corswain reminded him of Sigismund and Akurduana, those two monsters who were also universally recognized as masters of the blade within the Imperium. He wondered which of the three possessed superior swordsmanship.
"Currently, we have not detected the objective of this Hive Fleet. They seem to be drifting aimlessly, wandering around our galaxy and searching for targets," Nyx said, looking at the fleet displayed on the logic engine.
"What should we do now, Brother Corswain?" Nyx asked. He knew this operation was supposed to be led by Corswain from the start, except the enemy had shifted from the Khrave to a Hive Fleet.
"Once the other Chapters have formed a blockade around this fleet from the remaining directions, we can proceed to destroy this Hive Fleet."
"Are we not capturing samples anymore?" Nyx asked. Corswain had mentioned that both the Imperium and the Warmaster required samples.
"We will, but it will be handled by the Abominable Intelligence. These warships are highly dangerous. Before we fully comprehend any specific data regarding these bio-ships, there is no need for us to place ourselves in jeopardy."
"Furthermore, several Hive Fleets have also been discovered within Imperial territory. Currently, they are only present in our galaxy; they cannot be seen in the other galaxies for the time being—perhaps because we simply haven't discovered them yet."
"The largest fleet has already been intercepted by Ferrix leading the Iron Hands to be destroyed. What the Imperium and the Warmaster require are living samples from various fleets. To what extent have the Tyranids evolved now? And what exactly is the evolutionary trajectory of these fleets?"
"I expect we will soon find out just how formidable these great enemies truly are."
Corswain's eyes narrowed slightly. The Dark Angels needed to thoroughly understand the data of every enemy of the Imperium. The Swarm was undoubtedly an adversary that had to be researched inside out.
Nyx naturally had no objections to this arrangement. He did not want his brothers to face unknown dangers. Although this was their duty, who would willingly let their brothers fall into peril if lives could be spared?
Soon, the other Chapters had arrived at their designated positions under Corswain's command, commencing the encirclement. The Tyranids, at this moment, remained oblivious to what was unfolding, continuing to drift aimlessly.
The purpose of this vanguard fleet's arrival was not to harvest biomass, but to scout out just how many tendril fleets the Hive Mind should commit to this galaxy. If the disadvantages outweighed the benefits, the Great Devourer would have to carefully reconsider whether to deploy too many tendrils into the galaxy.
Yet, just as these bio-ships were moving forward to gather data, a fierce barrage of artillery suddenly erupted from all directions, catching them completely off guard.
Even the synaptic consciousness of the Hive Mind guiding this fleet failed to react in time.
Following closely behind, Nova Cannon shells, Lance strikes, and Gauss Macro-cannons interspersed within the volley instantly vaporized a full twenty percent of the Hive Fleet in a single moment.
Only then did the Chapters translate out of the void.
These bugs were already caught like rats in a trap.