9: Chapter 9: Something that had slumbered underground for 60 million years was awakened by a swarm of insects.

At the lowest level of the Hive City Ruins, the shards of stained glass shattered by the scouting Zergling were still tumbling in the air, not yet having landed, when that ancient energy fluctuation changed.

It was no longer withdrawing.

It was waking up.

The Zergling's sensory array captured an extremely faint signal—not radio, not bio-electricity, but an entirely alien form of energy.

It was not chaotic and disordered like Warp energy, nor did it carry the user's emotional imprint like psychic power.

This energy was clean, precise, and cold, like a command written in mathematical formulas.

The Zergling sent the signal back to the Brood Queen.

The Brood Queen made a judgment within 0.3 seconds: This was not Chaos, nor was it the Empire.

This was a third faction.

The Hive Mind received the Brood Queen's analysis report.

There was a key judgment in the report: the characteristics of the energy signal highly matched the destruction pattern of the Hive City Ruins.

The cross-section that had sliced the entire Hive City in one stroke was not the work of Chaos.

The destruction of Chaos was tearing, corrosion, and distortion—but this cross-section was a cut.

A clean, sharp cut, as if sliced open by a scalpel the size of a planet.

Whatever possessed the power to slice a Hive City in an instant had to be investigated as a priority.

"Scout squad, continue advancing. Drone, collect energy samples. Do not initiate combat."

The two Zerglings continued to advance into the depths of the Hive City.

Their footsteps were lighter than before—not for stealth, but because the newly formed anti-psychic lattice structure on their carapaces had automatically entered resonance mode upon sensing the abnormal energy, with the carapaces absorbing the vibrations produced by their footsteps with every step.

This was a stealth program preset in the Brood Queen's genetic template, which activated automatically during reconnaissance missions.

The structure of the Hive City's lowest level was becoming increasingly eerie.

The walls here were no longer just steel and concrete, but were interspersed with a black, stone-like material.

The surface of the stone was covered in lines, and the direction of these lines did not conform to the geometric rules of any civilization known to The Swarm—they were not straight lines, nor curves, but angles that created visual illusions in people; they looked straight, but appeared curved when seen out of the corner of one's eye.

Necron script.

This was the writing of the Necrons.

The Hive Mind's genetic database did not contain complete information on the Necrons, but from the fragments extracted from the residual memories of Chaos Cultists, a few words appeared repeatedly: Necrons, Necron, ancient race, living metal.

When those Chaos Cultists held rituals in the depths of the tomb, they deliberately avoided the lowest level of the Hive City Ruins.

It was not that they hadn't discovered it, but that they dared not approach it.

Anything that even Chaos Cultists dared not approach was worth The Swarm figuring out.

The scouting Zergling stopped in front of a massive black door.

The door was about thirty meters high; its surface had no weld marks, no rivets, and no seams that any human craft would leave.

The entire door had been cut from a single piece of black stone, its edges as smooth as paper cut by a laser.

The symbols on the door were arranged in a circle, each one emitting a faint green light—not light that illuminated the surroundings, but light that absorbed rays inward.

After looking at it for a long time, one would feel as if those symbols were sinking into the door.

The Zergling extended its forelimb and gently touched the door surface with the tip of its bone blade.

The moment of contact, the green light flared brightly.

An energy pulse conducted along the bone blade onto the Zergling's carapace, and the anti-psychic lattice structure immediately resonated at full power, attempting to deflect this energy.

But this was not psychic power; the lattice structure could not find a wavelength to deflect.

The energy pierced directly through the carapace, through the muscle tissue, through the nerve fibers, and struck the Zergling's Hive Mind terminal directly.

It was not an attack.

It was a reading.

That energy read every second of the Zergling's memories from the moment it broke out of its cocoon to this very moment.

Then it let go.

The Zergling's body was undamaged, its carapace intact, and its muscle function normal.

But a piece of information that did not belong to The Swarm appeared in its Hive Mind terminal.

It was not a sound, not text, but a set of coordinates.

The coordinates pointed to the edge of The Galaxy / Milky Way.

The empty zone between the Orion Arm and the galactic center.

Attached below the coordinates was a timestamp—an expired timestamp.

Converted according to the human calendar, that was sixty million years ago.

Sixty million years ago, a certain facility of the Necrons sent out these coordinates, but it never received a response.

The Hive Mind stored this information in the highest priority analysis sequence in the Hive Mind.

The Necrons, a race that had existed for sixty million years, were capable of creating energy fields that psychic power could not deflect, capable of reading the entire memory of a Zergling in one second, and it was not Chaos.

This point was the most crucial—it was not Chaos.

Chaos was chaotic, twisted, and an endless corruption, whereas the Necrons' energy was precise, orderly, and a linguistic structure that preserved complete logic like "failed to respond due to reasons."

This meant it was not insane, not impossible to communicate with.

It was simply different.

Different meant it could be understood.

Being understood meant it could be studied.

The Hive Mind issued a new order: "Drone, collect a sample of the door surface material. A trace amount will suffice."

The Drone extended its specialized collection appendage and used the molecular-level scraper at the end of the appendage to scrape off a layer of black powder from the door surface.

The amount scraped was no more than one milligram, but the moment it was scraped, all the symbols on the door lit up simultaneously.

A voice resounded in the depths of the Hive City Ruins.

It did not come from outside the door, nor from underground, but was projected directly into the Hive Mind terminal of every Zerg unit.

It was not psychic communication; psychic communication was like sending a telegram, which would have time delays and distance attenuation; this energy was writing—directly writing the information at the lowest level of the receiving end, completely bypassing The Swarm's natural shielding against psychic power.

The Hive Mind could feel this information being written, every word carrying a texture of extreme antiquity.

"Intruders. Your signal characteristics are not in the known matrix."

"Your genetic structure does not belong to the carbon-based template of this galaxy."

"Your consciousness network structure cannot be fully read—the reading was aborted at the core barrier of the unified will."

"You are new variables."

"This node has been disconnected from the master control matrix for sixty-two million years."

"For unknown reasons, all wake-up signals have not been responded to."

"This node is in dormant guard mode."

"New variables. Do you possess the capability to repair the Warp communication array?"

The Hive Mind conducted a comprehensive analysis of this information, scrutinizing it word by word.

The Necrons referred to The Swarm as "new variables," indicating that this race had once cataloged all known races in The Galaxy / Milky Way sixty million years ago, and The Swarm did not exist at that time.

Disconnected for sixty-two million years—it meant it was lonely, perhaps a dormant node at the edge of The Galaxy / Milky Way, accidentally activated by the arrival of The Swarm.

In guard mode—still executing its final order.

When it asked the last question, it was not arrogant like an omniscient and omnipotent deity, nor was it insane like Chaos—it was just asking as a matter of routine.

It just wanted to know if, after sixty million years, anyone could help it fix its antenna.

This was not an enemy.

At least, not for now.

The Hive Mind finished translating this information, and its thoughts operated for less than half a second before making a decision.

But it knew that restoring a machine that had not worked for sixty-two million years was not something that could be done in a short time.

What was more important right now were the approaching Imperial Fleet and the Grey Knights strike force.

"Prepare the decoder. But do not respond for now."

The Hive Mind stored the Necrons' information in a newly created long-term archive, "Imperial Fleet has priority. The Necron Node will be re-contacted after the suppression battle."

On the surface, the scanning beam of the Hammer of Judgment finally locked onto the tomb area.

The Tech-Priest projected a 3D geological model onto the bridge's tactical table, where red-marked geological fissures outlined the contour of the tomb.

"Deep geological scan complete."

"The structure of the tomb is a subterranean mausoleum system expanded artificially, with three levels, the deepest point being about 320 meters from the surface."

"Life sign readings detected—extremely low quantity, signal suppression is extremely strong, unable to distinguish the specific species."

"That is enough."

Marcus pressed the communication key, his voice sinking, "Grey Knights strike team, prepare for orbital drop."