Far beyond the distant Milky Way galaxy, the bloody battle between the Necrons and the Tyranids was only just beginning in the void, while another war had already erupted across a different, equally ancient battlefield.
This was neither the cold void of realspace nor entirely the realm of madness within the Warp.
The Webway.
A grand structure spanning the entire galaxy, forged by the Old Ones in ancient times.
It served as a highway, a barrier, and in a sense, an ark—during the War in Heaven that had burned almost everything to ashes, the Old Ones had traversed back and forth through this place, deploying their military forces to every corner of the galaxy.
Yet the concept of the Webway was not limited to acting as the galaxy's transit hub.
Vast variations set it apart from the Eternity Gate created by the Necrons and now mastered by the Imperium; the Webway possessed an astonishing capacity for internal spatial storage.
Its spatial structure followed a strange aesthetic reminiscent of the Warp, an extraordinary quality sufficient to accommodate all manner of monsters and rogue elements from across the galaxy to make their home within. Even the orthodox heirs of the Old Ones—those pretentious Eldar—remained powerless against these broken tunnels long since overrun by every variety of scum and villainy.
And at this very moment, within the Webway situated along Terra's coordinates, a war of blood and fire erupted once more.
Just as it had occurred throughout uncounted ages across this dark galaxy.
Only war eternal.
"For the Emperor!"
The roars of the Adeptus Custodes exploded through the Webway's interior.
Those armored giants traversed the battlefield in magnificent, lethal postures, just as they had ten thousand years ago.
Their power armor reflected brilliant golden light beneath the dim illumination of the Webway. Guardian spears spun and fluttered in their hands, the sharp shrieks produced as blades tore through the air enough to chill the hearts of any enemies daring to face their edge.
Around them, Sisters of Silence fought silently alongside them.
Those soulless women clad in heavy armor projected an empty field that expanded outward like a tide, dismantling layer by layer the unholy Warp sorcery relied upon by demonic entities.
This scene was indeed familiar.
It even caused many veteran Custodes—resurrected and re-employed after retiring from the Legion of the Damned—to experience a momentary trance during lulls in combat.
That soul-rending psychic shriek, those deformed monsters endlessly pouring from the shadows, and this familiar backdrop...
Everything felt as though it had returned to ten thousand years ago.
To that sudden Webway War that had snapped the Emperor's grand vision in half.
However, one obvious fact remained—
"No, this is impossible!"
A Khorne daemon roared in fury, unbelievable rage burning across its features.
Just seconds prior, this Bloodletter, which had harvested skulls across uncounted battlefields, witnessed a startling sight: a firing network composed of brass cannons had precisely covered the array of golden giants.
Waves of blood and fire expanded outward, rolling heat waves surging with enough power to melt a Space Marine Dreadnought into liquid metal.
Yet when the gunsmoke cleared...
Those Custodes walked unscathed out of the fire.
Not a single scratch remained on their power armor; the halos encircling their bodies shone as bright as ever, as though the preceding bombardment had been nothing more than a trivial fireworks display.
"Personal void shields, heretic!"
The lead Custodian sneered.
Then, he raised his hand.
Held in his grip was a priceless, relic-tier melta pistol of the same model used by a certain First Founding Chapter Master.
The trigger was pulled.
In an instant, that Khorne daemon—famous throughout the Warp for its resistance to ranged strikes—turned into a pool of twisted slag alongside the blessing it took pride in.
Indeed.
Even military units like the Custodes, who enjoyed the highest tier of offerings in the entire Imperium and galaxy, had rarely experienced such extravagant joy.
Weapons normally fitted only onto hero-level units were now being unleashed recklessly, pouring toward enemy forces like cascading water.
Paired with personal martial arts honed over ten thousand years, the Custodes slaughtered the incoming tide of Warp daemons with near assembly-line efficiency.
Included among the fallen were even xenos species that had fled into the depths of the Webway to hide since the Great Crusade era.
Those xenos had long been corrupted and warped beyond recognition by the Warp, yet at this moment, before the Custodes, they were no different from the daemons—merely piles of trash waiting to be cleared away.
Yet this was still not enough.
Such slaughter efficiency still seemed too low.
Standing at the absolute front of the formation, Custodes Tribune Diocletian remained motionless.
He resembled a silent statue, save for the guardian spear in his hand that continuously harvested lives. Every strike precisely pierced an enemy core, never wasting a fraction of unnecessary effort.
He surveyed the battlefield and confirmed the number of remaining foes.
Then, without a word, he pulled an item from the tactical pouch at his waist.
It was a sphere the size of a fist, its surface flowing with shifting colors that belonged to no known spectrum.
This was an anomaly delivered to him earlier by a certain reality warper.
Its name was the [Wheel of Cataclysm].
Diocletian crushed it expressionlessly.
The moment that anomalous artifact was activated, an invisible wave expanded outward in all directions like ripples on water.
In the next instant, a sudden transformation occurred.
The offensive of the Ten Thousand surged stronger by another margin.
Layer upon layer of halos began to surface across the bodies of those Custodes.
Blessings of varying natures emerged in rapid succession.
Damage-reduction barriers materialized around them to block incoming fire; speed was enhanced to sweep across the ground like a gale; every strike dealt drained a portion of the enemy's vitality to restore their own.
Even standard bolter rounds could inflict a brief stasis effect upon those arrogant daemons upon impact.
These blessings stacked and amplified one another, creating a terrifying effect akin to a storm across the battlefield.
Every Custodian transformed into a mobile vortex of destruction. Wherever they rolled through, nothing remained except xenos limbs and the fading wails of daemons prior to dissipation.
At this moment, a Bloodthirster rose up from the heaps of corpses.
It roared and bellowed, charging straight into the front lines carrying the scent of blood and fire.
Relying on its blessed form, the Bloodthirster forcibly withstood a volley from the Emperor's Hands.
Then came a strike of ultimate rage.
The Bloodthirster's massive axe cleaved down heavily, successfully severing the head of a Custodian who failed to dodge in time.
Yet that lasted for only a single blink.
A beam of bloody light shot into the sky, illuminating the body that should have collapsed.
Beneath the shine of that red light, the Custodian resurrected in an instant!
The Bloodthirster froze.
Huh?
During that split second, the surrounding Custodes seemed to draw some even stronger empowerment simultaneously from their comrade's brief death.
Their speed broke through normal limits, their strength swelling to a degree capable of wrestling with war engines.
As if trained uncounted times, all the Custodes acted in complete synchronization alongside their newly revived companion!
One second later, that Bloodthirster—capable of single-handedly butchering an entire Imperial Guard Regiment—was dismantled entirely into unrecognizable fragments.
"What is that thing?"
From behind the position, a voice sounded.
The Lord Regent of the Imperium, Roboute Guilliman, observed this scene on the battlefield with deep interest.
By logic, he should not have appeared here.
At this time, Guilliman was meant to bear the heavy burden of reform and political duties, sitting before mountains of paperwork on Terra.
As for how he escaped?
Through hard work and sweat, naturally!
Guilliman had leveraged his Primarch-level brain to carefully design layer upon layer of schemes.
The final outcome went as he envisioned, successfully convincing his brother Sanguinius to sit in for him at the Departmento Adminstratum for a few days.
Guilliman: Heh heh.
Sanguinius: Not heh heh.
Taking advantage of this rare leisure, Guilliman had stepped into the Webway to witness this battle firsthand, coming across a sight he found quite amusing.
What new trick had that reality warper pulled off this time?
"That's right, this was an idea I came up with."
Adam, standing beside him, nodded. His gaze likewise rested on the battlefield.
"It's an anomalous item I created while operating at full power. As you can see, activating it grants our forces temporary enhancements."
Adam paused briefly, as if choosing his phrasing carefully.
"In short, it was specifically designed for a unique environment like the Webway, allowing the Imperium's forces to gain an unparalleled advantage even in combat of this intensity."
"It is indeed a good idea," Guilliman praised sincerely.
Then again...
Guilliman turned his head, shifting his gaze away from the battlefield to lock onto Adam's face.
"Why did you propose conquering the Webway?"
This was a question Guilliman had wanted to ask for some time.
This portion of the Webway was located on Terra, a remnant of the Emperor's plan from ten thousand years ago. Guilliman had seen it before and had even been brought inside by Adam for a tour.
Right now, however, he could see Adam using his thoughts to repair this once-broken place before sending troops out to strike in all directions across the Webway.
Without a doubt, this was set to become a normalized operation.
"Because I feel somewhat uneasy," Adam's expression turned solemn.
"You can consider this a contingency plan."
Guilliman's brow furrowed. Every line on his marble-carved face grew harder.
"A premonition of yours?"
Adam nodded. "Yes. I have a feeling... we will still need to face the upcoming wave with everything we have."
The moment those words were spoken, the surrounding air seemed to freeze slightly.
"Don't worry."
Seeing Guilliman's expression darken so abruptly, Adam realized something and waved his hand hurriedly. His face returned to that familiar expression. "You didn't think my reason was an attempt to use the Webway as humanity's last refuge, did you? It hasn't come to that."
"Things haven't reached that point."
"Then why?" Guilliman pressed.
Adam first uttered a place name: "Commorragh."
Then, he immediately explained: "You should remember the conclusion reached during the meeting. For our next course of action, we must prepare in advance to investigate potential threats."
"After thinking it over, among those threats, the Eldar seem to be the most accessible target."
Guilliman nodded slowly.
"Of course, under normal circumstances we should investigate the Eldar Craftworlds first," Adam continued. "But as you know, Craftworlds are elusive and unpredictable; ghost knows where to find them. I've already tasked Ferrus with searching, but the efficiency isn't high. Those pointy-ears possess incredibly strong anti-divination capabilities regarding Warp exploration—simply put, they're too good at hiding, making them genuinely hard to find."
"So, I plan to start with fixed locations instead."
Guilliman's brow smoothed out.
"I see. Target Commorragh directly—the Dark Eldar city within the Webway."
He nodded slowly. "Understood."
The conversation reached a temporary lull.
The two turned their attention back to the battlefield.
The iron tide of the Custodes continued its forward push. Enhanced by layers of stacking buff effects, those golden giants truly resembled an unstoppable force of destiny.
The scales of war were tipping toward humanity at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Yet right at this moment...
Adam's expression shifted suddenly.
Guilliman noticed it instantly.
"What happened?"
His voice turned grave, instantly switching back to a state of combat readiness.
"Well..."
Adam shook his head, his gaze seeming to pierce through layers of the Webway's structure toward an unseen distance. "To be precise, your father—the Emperor—just gave me a psychic phone call."
"The Four Chaos Gods seem to be shifting their focus. They're stirring up an unusual wave within the Warp. The intensity exceeds normal parameters, and the direction is very strange—it's not inside the galaxy, but..."
Adam paused.
"...out beyond the Milky Way."
A moment of silence fell between the two after those words were spoken.
That silence was broken by another wave of explosions echoing from afar.
Afterward, Adam broke the silence, speaking up: "Looks like they're brewing another plot."
"We need to investigate this as soon as possible."
Half an hour later.
Guilliman and Adam, having rushed out of the Webway at light speed and returned to the office only moments prior, received a report delivered by Inquisitor Cybylla.
The two looked at each other.
"What kind of ghost efficiency is this?"
Adam picked up the report. After spending a moment scanning through it briefly, he went silent, extending a hand to cover his face in speechlessness.
He handed the report back.
Guilliman took the report and immediately scanned the text written upon it.
"—An alien individual named 'Trazyn' claims to have received a message through his personal channels: Szarekh, the 'Silent King' and former ruler of the alien species designated 'Necrons,' utilized an advanced form of communication to broadcast a message to tomb worlds across the entire galaxy."
"The Devourer from beyond the galaxy is about to launch a full-scale invasion of the Milky Way in the near future. Its scale far exceeds expectations, rivaling even the rumored 'War in Heaven.'"
"He calls upon all Necrons to awaken and reunite under the banner of the Triarch to face the upcoming, inevitable crisis."
Guilliman: "..."
He turned his head, casting a glance at a certain reality warper who was silently covering his face, the meaning in his eyes self-evident.
—And you still say you're not a jinx?