The air in the High Lords' Sol chamber was thick with the scent of ozone and the dust of millennia. Holographic projections shimmered—battle reports, resource manifests, orbital schematics—ignored in favour of the single, urgent priority blinking crimson on a central console. Tribune Malcador Nullius' shadow stretched long across the polished ceramite floor, a golden sentinel among the robed and armoured figures of the Imperium's highest council.
"Another one," Administrator Gorthos rasped, his voice dry as desert sand. "Report from Forge World Oloros. Mechanicus Priority Sigma-Tau."
The room fell silent, a rare occurrence. All eyes—some organic, some lens-augmented, some behind intricate masks—turned to the projection. A schematic of a Forge World sector, overlaid with frantic pict-captures.
---
Subject: Anomaly Detected
Location: Forge World Oloros, Sector 7-Rho-Gamma
Nature: Warp Emergence — Singular Event
Form: Humanoid
Corruption Index: ZERO — Repeating: ZERO
Energy Signature: Impossible
Alchemical patterns detected in excess of standard reality-thermodynamics
Local Status: Sector lockdown initiated. Mechanicus biohaz-protocols engaged. Requesting Adeptus Custodes observation.
---
A sharp hiss of inhalation came from the corner. Inquisitor Valeria, her power armour a stark, unadorned black against the room's ornate decor, stepped forward. Her face, framed by severe black hair, was a mask of cold fury.
"Exterminatus," she stated, her voice low and edged like a blade. "Immediately. Orbital bombardment. Purity-seal the system. We cannot afford another risk like the others. The Xenos Gateways, the Blight of Cypra... we learn nothing if we do not apply the ultimate sanction."
Her gaze swept the room, daring contradiction. It landed on Tribune Malcador Nullius, who stood utterly still, his auramite gleaming faintly in the projection light.
"Inquisitor," the Tribune's voice was calm, resonant, carrying the weight of ten thousand years of vigilance. "The report specifies no daemonic corruption. An impossible energy signature, yes, but not the Foul."
"Impossible is a synonym for heresy, Tribune!" Valeria shot back, her hand instinctively hovering near her sidearm. "Or worse. A new form of corruption—one we do not recognise! A Trojan Horse woven from the aether itself! The Warp breeds only monsters and madness. The Seven... the prior incidents were anomalies enough. We handled them with caution, and look at the seeds of chaos they sowed across the Segmentum!"
A robed figure from the Ecclesiarchy, Cardinal Edrius, cleared his throat delicately. "If I may interject, Inquisitor. The report also notes 'humanoid form' and 'no corruption.' Coupled with the... unusual energy, might this not be another sign? A divine intervention? A miraculous agent sent to test us, or perhaps even to guide us? Like the whispers surrounding the... the Seven Miracles. Blessed be their uncertain souls."
Tribune Malcador Nullius inclined his head slightly toward the Cardinal, a gesture of acknowledgement that held no hint of agreement. "The Ecclesiarchy is free to interpret as it sees fit. However, the Adeptus Custodes operate on different mandates. By Custodes Mandate Prime, issued after the... events surrounding the Seven Anomalies..."
Valeria flinched at the veiled reference. The scars of that chaotic period were still fresh in the Imperium's collective memory. Mysterious figures—each possessed of inexplicable, non-Warp powers—appearing across the galaxy, sowing confusion and upheaval before vanishing or being contained. The Custodes had been given unique, overriding authority regarding any similar future occurrences.
"...any singular, non-daemonic Warp emergence displaying anomalous, non-standard energetic signatures is to be subjected to Observation Prime before any destructive measures are undertaken," Malcador Nullius finished, his voice firm and absolute. "The Custodes detachment en route to Oloros carries this mandate. Exterminatus is vetoed, Inquisitor. For now. We observe first."
A murmur rippled through the High Lords. The Custodes rarely involved themselves in such matters, and their direct override of an Inquisitor's Exterminatus order was almost unprecedented outside of direct contact with the Emperor's own will. It spoke volumes about the significance the Custodes attached to the prior Seven Anomalies—and the potential connection to this new event.
Valeria seethed, but the Tribune's authority was unassailable. "You risk the Imperium, Tribune," she ground out. "Blind faith in a theoretical decree over the practical cleansing of potential heresy!"
"We risk ignorance, Inquisitor," Malcador Nullius countered, his golden focus unwavering. "The nature of the Seven was cryptic. This anomaly shares some characteristics. To destroy it without understanding would be to repeat a mistake—potentially losing a vital clue. The Emperor's grace is not always revealed through fire and blade first."
---
On Forge World Oloros, the air was thick with the stench of hot metal and the low thrum of machinery that had suddenly fallen silent. Sector 7-Rho-Gamma was a quarantined zone, force fields shimmering along the perimeter, guarded by heavily armed Skitarii legions—their binary chatter replaced by nervous silence. Inside, the Mechanicus Magos Explorator leading the initial survey team, Hierophant 7-Delta, hovered near a primary sensor array, his many optical lenses fixed on the designated emergence zone.
"Energy readings... fluctuating," he reported in monotone binary into his vox-caster. "Still registering as Planck-impossible patterns. Source singularity remains at coordinates 37.4 by 91.6. Humanoid form confirmed by spectral analysis. No biomatter decay. No standard psychic resonance. The patterns... they continue to align with theoretical Alchemae Primaris sequences... a knowledge base deemed apocryphal since the Age of Strife."
Foreboding hung heavy. Alchemae. A forbidden path—tampering with reality at a fundamental level—not through the crude force of the Warp or the structured logic of the Machine God's laws, but through transmutation. Reshaping existence with will and alien logic.
Then, a different set of signatures registered. Impossibly precise, radiating ancient power and absolute discipline. The Adeptus Custodes had arrived.
Tribune Kaeso Null watched from a distance, his golden helm concealing his expression, but his stance radiating vigilance. With him were a handpicked few of the Emperor's Ten Thousand, their bolters held ready but not aimed. Their orders were clear: Observe. Do not engage unless threatened.
"Hierophant 7-Delta," Kaeso Null voxed, his voice calm and commanding. "Maintain sensor sweeps. Do not approach. We will proceed with direct observation."
He moved with the silent grace of a predator, his small escort fanning out behind him. They passed through the shimmering force field, the air growing colder, heavier, as they approached the anomaly's location. It was a small, previously dormant fabrication chamber, now bathed in an ethereal, pearlescent light that seemed to emanate from within.
They found the Anomaly standing in the centre of the room.
It was, undeniably, humanoid. Tall, slender—its form graceful under simple, unadorned clothing of an indeterminate fabric that shifted colours slightly in the strange light. Its face was serene, eyes closed, a faint, enigmatic smile playing on its lips. It did not radiate malice or madness. It radiated... potential.
And the energy. It pulsed outward—not violently, but like a gentle wave—washing over the Custodes' advanced sensors and rendering them momentarily meaningless. Kaeso Null felt it directly—a strange, almost musical hum in the air, a faint scent of something like ozone mixed with blooming flowers. It wasn't the roaring chaos of the Warp, but something else entirely. Order, perhaps, but an order alien to their understanding. An alchemical transformation of the air itself? Of reality?
He raised a gauntleted hand, signalling his brethren to halt. They stood utterly still, golden statues holding vigil over this impossible figure.
"Hierophant," Kaeso voxed, his voice a low whisper that carried nonetheless. "Visual confirmation. Subject appears quiescent. Energy signature remains stable, non-hostile... but utterly anomalous. Continue monitoring."
He studied the figure. Its chest rose and fell with the slow rhythm of breathing. Its presence felt... old. Not ancient like the Emperor, but... belonging to a different age, a different path of existence. It didn't fit the grim calculus of the 41st Millennium, where power came from faith, technology, or the ruinous powers. This was something else. Something that shouldn't be.
Dark wonder warred within Kaeso. The sheer impossibility of its existence was breathtaking—a glimpse into secrets the galaxy had long forgotten or deliberately suppressed. But that wonder was laced with deep foreboding. Anything that defied the known laws of the universe, anything that emerged unbidden from the Warp without the taint of Chaos, was a fundamental threat to the rigid, fragile structure of the Imperium. It raised questions that had no good answers.
What was this figure? One of the Seven, returned? A new one? A deliberate creation? A key to something terrible—or something miraculous? A new one that fight against the ruinus power?The Ecclesiarchy's hope, the Inquisitor's fear, the Mechanicus's confusion—they all swirled around this silent, serene figure.
Kaeso Null remained there for a long time, observing. The figure did not move, did not open its eyes. It simply was—a point of profound, unsettling stillness in a frantic galaxy. He thought of the Emperor's decree, of the strange destinies hinted at by the Seven Anomalies—their fleeting appearances causing seismic shifts in the galaxy's hidden currents.
This anomaly was not a monster to be slain outright. Not yet. It was a philosophical challenge made manifest. A silent question posed to the heart of the Imperium's grim cosmology: What room was there for divergence, for alternative paths, for impossible potential in a universe defined by endless war and the slow decay toward oblivion?
He didn't have the answer. All he had was his vigil, the orders to observe, and the chilling, exhilarating certainty that the galaxy—already teetering on the brink—had just become a little more complex, a little more wondrous, and infinitely more dangerous.
The long watch had just begun.