The decision was made.
With the issuance of the command, the supreme will of the Primarch was transmitted to every corner of the underground space. Everyone present—from the Tech-Priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to the silver-white skeletal Necrons—began to function like precision machinery. Equipment that had been on standby lit up one by one.
First, the instruments forged from the highest technology of the Imperium emitted a hum like the breathing of a great beast. Complex energy conduits began to glow with golden light as tens of thousands of data streams surged through fiber-optic cables. Following closely were the Necron technological constructs with their distinct alien style.
A ghostly green energy began to flow through the bone-like winding conduits. Wherever the light passed, the surrounding air distorted, and reality itself trembled before such immense power.
"Energy circuit self-check complete," a synthesized voice reported. "Converters one through seventy-three are operating normally. Output power is stable within predicted parameters."
"Blackstone resonance frequency locked," a Necron added from the other side in a cold, metallic voice. "The suppression field generator has entered the preheating phase. Activation threshold will be reached in forty-seven seconds."
Ferrus Manus stood still, his eyes fixed on the ocean of light and data. He did not speak; he only nodded slightly.
Ten minutes prior.
Ferrus remembered that moment. When the plan was first presented, several figures stepped forward from the shadows of the machinery. The first was a figure draped in black robes. Trazyn the Infinite raised his head, looking at the Primarch with a scrutinizing gaze.
Trazyn evaluated the aesthetic sense of a certain "old salted meat" in his mind—the physical traits were perfect, and the historical value of a legend walking out of death was incalculable. A Primarch who had fallen ten thousand years ago, brought back by power beyond logic. Trazyn thought it would be a perfect pairing to display him alongside his Clonegrim in the museum.
Ferrus ignored Trazyn's gaze, which felt like an appraisal of a museum piece. His silver eyes remained fixed forward. "Can you provide a feasible reference plan now?"
His voice echoed in the cavern. Regarding the closing of the Eye of Terror, they had conducted countless simulations. Every plan, detail, and risk had been evaluated. Now they had a solution; they only needed the Warmaster to make the final call.
"We have reached a conclusion, Lord Ferrus," Belisarius Cawl said, removing his hood. As a splinter of the personality currently wreaking havoc in the Warp, Cawl's understanding of reality-warping was second only to Adam. He had split his supreme persona to handle the war in both the material universe and the Warp simultaneously.
"The first option is to use the original Necron method for closing Warp rifts," Trazyn interjected, a hint of pride in his hollow metallic voice. "I personally recommend this. Crank the power to the maximum, push the suppression field vortex to the limit, and forcibly seal the rift. It is battle-tested technology from the War in Heaven."
Ferrus listened quietly. As a Primarch with deep mastery of mechanics, he spotted the flaw immediately. "If we do that, we will inevitably be affected by those things," he stated. "The Chaos powers behind the veil will not sit idle. In this scenario, they would gain significant influence and could destabilize the sealing process."
"There is another way, Lord Primarch," another figure said, removing his hood. The former Cryptek, Suth, nodded to Ferrus. "It is the more unconventional method we have been discussing. It relies on the power of that person. The power of the one called the Reality Warper."
Suth continued, "We have successfully combined our technologies to create a specific device. By integrating the anomalous materials and items provided by that individual, we have constructed a projector for reality-warping abilities. With the support of Necron energy arrays, we can expand the range of reality-warping on an astronomical scale."
"In this way, we can use reality-warping like an eraser—or like filling a wound with healing tissue, or bandaging a tear. It isn't a forced closure, but a natural, irreversible healing of the Eye of Terror. We estimate that the Chaos Gods' influence on this process will be extremely limited."
Ferrus was silent for a moment, then nodded. He understood. It was like using thread made of the same material as a torn canvas to reweave the gap. The threads were part of the canvas itself—part of reality. The Warp could tear at forced patches, but it struggled against threads that were one with the reality they mended.
"What is the price?" Ferrus asked.
"The price is time," Cawl said gravely. He projected a set of complex temporal parameters. "We estimate the process will take between one week and one month. During this time—"
"You must hold back the Chaos counter-offensive with everything you have. You must hold the Cadian Gate. The powers of Chaos will not watch the Eye be closed. Once the healing begins, they will try to break through Cadia's defenses to destroy this equipment at any cost. Only you and your warriors can stop them."
"We choose this one," Ferrus said without hesitation. His voice was as calm as if he were discussing the weather. "I can hold this place until the end of time. Chaos will never break my line."
Back in the present.
Ferrus Manus watched the instruments filling his vision. The golden light of human technology and the ghostly green flow of Necron science intertwined into a massive energy matrix. He raised his silver hand and swung it downward.
"Begin."
His voice was like thunder. Every instrument entered full-power operation. The golden psychic currents accelerated into rivers of light. The green Necron energy erupted with a low roar. The two lights collided and fused at every node.
Then—a green pillar of light, bright enough to blind anyone, erupted from the core of the planet.
The pillar was hundreds of meters wide. It pierced the bedrock, the surface of Cadia, and the atmosphere. In an instant, the sky of Cadia was dyed a ghostly green. Every soldier on guard looked up. The Cadian warriors, with their purple eyes born of the Warp's proximity, stared in shock.
The light did not stop. It pierced the clouds like a spear of light connecting heaven and earth, stabbing directly into the cosmic wound hanging in the sky: The Eye of Terror.
On the outskirts of the Cadian system, the Blackstone Fortresses newly deployed by Prometheus Labs lit up one by one. Relics from the War in Heaven, once used as weapons by a certain Chaos Warmaster, now showed their true purpose. One, two, three... thirteen in total.
Each fortress became a point of green light. They connected to form a massive net covering the entire star system. Every node pulsed in sync, releasing visible green ripples that converged into the central spear of light. A brilliant green curtain began to spread with slow, unstoppable momentum. It looked like liquid reality, a bandage of pure existence flowing toward the gash in the firmament.
"Is this an illusion?" In the Cadian High Command, Castellan Creed looked up. In his purple eyes, the cosmic-scale wound was reflected. The rift everyone called the Eye of Terror was shrinking in an unnatural, logic-defying way.
On the other side of the Warp, Adam suddenly turned his head. He felt it. A ripple from the material universe, a power belonging to reality itself. It was mending the rift between the real and the illusory, bit by bit.
"It has begun," Adam murmured.
He turned his attention back to the four divine domains. He had wondered why the four Daemon Primarchs—the favored pawns of the gods—had not appeared while his chosen elites ravaged their realms. They should have been the first to strike. Adam's goal was to tie them down, but they had remained hidden.
Now, Adam understood. The four Chaos Gods had adopted the same strategy. They were waiting. Waiting for the most critical moment.
And now, that moment had arrived.