Three days later, Macragge Starport.
The Unity lay moored at a private pier, its silver hull gleaming with a cold luster under the starport's lights, standing in stark contrast to the surrounding Imperial vessels filled with Gothic spires and reliefs.
Roboute Guilliman strode onto the boarding ramp connecting to the ship, the alloy deck emitting steady echoes under his power boots. Upon entering the vessel's interior, the sights before him caused him to involuntarily slow his pace.
There was none of the common, grim atmosphere found on Imperial ships—no flickering candlelight, no soot-blackened exhaust pipes, and no ubiquitous skull decorations or scriptural reliefs. Instead, there were smooth synthetic walls, and recessed lighting emitted a soft, uniform white glow. Several holographic projection interfaces hovered along the sides of the corridor, displaying real-time data on ship systems, star charts for navigation, and external surveillance feeds. The air circulation system was quiet and efficient, maintaining the temperature within the optimal range for human activity.
"How is it? Beautiful, isn't it?"
Adam's voice came from his side. The Primarch turned to see the human whose origins remained mysterious, leaning against a wall shimmering with data streams, a clear look of pride on his face.
"I personally fashioned more than half of the facilities in here."
However, he immediately admitted silently to himself that the Necron Canoptek Scarabs had also played a significant role.
Guilliman did not respond immediately. His gaze swept over a hatch at the end of the corridor that was self-reconfiguring; the edges of the door frame flowed with a liquid-metal luster, changing shape within seconds to accommodate new passage requirements. He then looked at the sensor nodes on the ceiling, so tiny they were almost invisible, arranged in a pattern that clearly formed a total-coverage monitoring network.
Truly astonishing.
In his mind, Guilliman once again raised his assessment level of Adam. The descriptions in the reports—whether from Archmagos Cawl, the Inquisitor, or the Custodian emissary—were far less shocking than seeing it with his own eyes. It felt even more incredible when Guilliman considered that the technical level displayed by this ship had been evaluated by Archmagos Cawl as "comparable to the Hrafnkel or the Bucephelus of the Great Crusade era."
Behind Guilliman at this moment, thirty Victrix Guard followed in two rows, their blue armor gleaming in the clean light. This was an honorary formation that had belonged to the Ultramarines since the Great Crusade, and these warriors were elite members carefully screened and reorganized by Guilliman over the past day from the resurrected Legion veterans and the original Ultramarines Chapter.
In the past seventy-two hours, Guilliman had had almost no time to rest. After the military parade, he had immediately plunged into a long stretch of work. First, he convened an emergency meeting with various governors on Macragge to clarify the current political landscape and issue preliminary reform directives.
Then, he entered the Library of Ptolemy, using his Primarch-level information processing speed to read through key archives accumulated by the Chapter over the last ten millennia. Finally, he ordered the Astropathic Choir of Macragge to broadcast an unencrypted message across the entire Imperium, formally announcing the return of the Primarch of the Thirteenth Legion.
When Guilliman felt the time was right and proposed to Adam that they needed to head to Terra, the other party simply nodded, said "Follow me," and brought him onto this ship.
"So, you intend to take us to Terra aboard this vessel?" Guilliman finally asked, his gaze falling back onto Adam.
"In a manner of speaking, yes," Adam stood straight and began to continue down the corridor. "But not exactly."
Guilliman and the Victrix Guard followed. They passed through three automatically sliding sealed doors and entered a much wider area. The walls here were deep gray, and a glowing guidance line on the floor extended forward.
Ten minutes later, Adam stopped. "We're here."
Guilliman looked up. Before him was an arched structure ten meters high, made of a material as black as ink, yet its surface carried a strange, non-reflective texture. It was housed within a massive chamber, surrounded by multi-layered observation platforms and dense control terminals. A faint green light rippled within the arch, a glow that seemed to seep from space itself rather than any visible light source.
Is this... a xenos technological creation?
The Primarch became instantly alert. He recognized this material—it had appeared in some records among the Ultramarines' archives. But the scale and completeness of the structure before him far surpassed any description in the Imperial files.
"This is..." Guilliman's voice lowered involuntarily.
"You should be familiar with it, right?" Adam walked to the arch and reached out to touch the cold surface. "A Necron Eternity Gate. The wormhole within can ignore spatial distance, unconditionally teleporting targets to preset coordinates to achieve instantaneous deployment across the entire galaxy—a true faster-than-light method that doesn't need to pass through that cesspool of the Warp."
He turned to face Guilliman. "And while you were waking up, I already had the Custodes deploying these things across the entire galaxy. I'll send you the complete star chart nodes later."
Adam smiled, his tone as relaxed as if he were talking about the weather. "Simply put, there is now at least one of these wormhole facilities in every major sector within the Imperium's borders. I call this—the New Webway Project."
What?
Guilliman's mind experienced a brief blankness. Immediately afterward, a tsunami of strategic simulations flooded his Primarch-level brain.
...No Warp required, ignoring distance limits, instantaneous deployment, a galaxy-wide network, a logistical revolution, troop maneuvering, emergency response, trade routes, administrative transmission, military reform, economic transformation, social restructuring—
His pupils dilated slightly due to information overload, and he even began to struggle with the reality of such a thing. How is it possible?
But the shock lasted less than two seconds. The Primarch's rationality quickly overrode his emotional response, and he began frantically calculating the changes this technology could bring. He instantly understood the terrifying strategic value of the Eternity Gate: it would completely overturn the Imperial governance model maintained for ten thousand years, truly connecting a million scattered worlds into a single whole. Even during the Imperium's most glorious Great Crusade era, such a thing would have brought transformative change—not to mention in this age of gradual decline into darkness.
From any perspective, this was the turning point that could allow human civilization to rise again!
"Incredible," Guilliman muttered, his gaze locked onto the green-glowing arch.
Suddenly, a sharp glint flashed in his eyes. An inspiration struck him, and his administrator's instincts instantly suppressed all wonder.
"I must write a codex concerning this," Guilliman's speaking speed accelerated as he began to pace on the spot. "A standardized manual for the use of such critical facilities. A specialized department must be established, responsible for its maintenance, scheduling, and security. We also need to establish linkage mechanisms with various Imperial departments—the Departmento Munitorum, the Administratum, the Ecclesiarchy, the Inquisition, the Adeptus Mechanicus..."
His hands unconsciously began to gesture in the air, as if a massive number of draft interfaces were already appearing before him.
"Tithes need to be recalculated, military deployment regulations must be fully revised, grading standards for priority passage rights, diversion plans for civilian and military use, classification of node secrecy levels, emergency protocols against enemy capture, training outlines for operators—"
Guilliman was completely immersed in his own world, his face beaming with excitement, entirely oblivious to the reactions of those around him. Finally, he stopped.
"I think I shall call it—the Codex Constitutional."
Adam: 'Bruh...'
Victrix Guard: "..."
Standing there, Adam and the thirty Victrix Guard behind Guilliman all felt their facial muscles twitching slightly.
Was this... right?