2: escape

The base's fragile automated defense system—a few newly deployed, tower-like laser turrets—opened fire. Slender red laser beams shot toward the charging Space Marine squad.

It was completely useless.

The lead Space Marine didn't even dodge; the lasers struck his shoulder plate, leaving only a rapidly dissipating scorch mark. He raised his Bolter and, without even taking precise aim, fired a rough burst toward the laser towers.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The sounds were short, heavy thuds. It wasn't the crack of gunpowder weapons, but the sound of some heavier, more brutal force launching fist-sized physical projectiles at terrifying speeds.

Under Han Zhe's gaze, the three laser towers and their bases exploded into three fireballs of metal fragments and molten silicon crystals. The shockwave from the explosions overturned two nearby SCVs that were working; they tumbled across the ground, sparking with electricity, and lay there paralyzed.

"No! Wait! We aren't enemies! We can talk—" Han Zhe roared into the communication channel, though he knew the other party likely couldn't receive it, or simply didn't care to.

His voice was drowned out by a even larger explosion.

The golden-armored giant wielding the sword moved. He didn't run, but simply swung his sword forward in a seemingly casual manner.

There was no sweeping sword-qi. But where the blade pointed, following the trajectory of his swing, the ground, the air, and even space itself within a hundred-meter range ahead were violently "plowed" by an invisible giant hand! The ground sank, shattered, and melted in a fan-shaped arc, forming a deep trench emitting green smoke and the glow of lava. The Barracks, which had just been built and hadn't even produced a single soldier, along with half of the nearby Refinery, were twisted, torn, and then reduced to ruins in a series of secondary explosions from that single swing's aftershock!

[Warning! Barracks destroyed! Refinery 73% damaged! Ultra-high intensity individual energy reaction detected! Threat Level: MAX! Executing Emergency Protocol: Activating wide-area quantum communication, sending highest priority identification and ceasefire request!]

The system's voice remained cold, but its speech rate was much faster.

"Send it! Send it now! Tell them this is a misunderstanding! We are human too! Or at least... on the human side!" Han Zhe was almost screaming.

[Communication sent. Using Imperial Standard gothic basic encoding, including basic physical constant identifiers and a peace negotiation request. Signal broadcasted via quantum entanglement and Warp harmonic amplification mode, coverage: current star sector.]

In the next moment, Han Zhe "heard" it. Not through his ears, but because the broadcast signal seemed to be synchronized back into his consciousness by the system. It was a synthesized, grand, and emotionless voice, repeating in gothic (which he could understand thanks to the language pack the system instantly loaded):

"Notice to unknown Imperium of Man armed forces. This is a frontline base of the emerging human civilization 'Pioneer'. We have no intention of conflict, repeat, we have no intention of conflict. Requesting identification, requesting ceasefire, requesting inter-civilization contact protocol. This message represents our highest will."

The signal was like a giant stone thrown into a calm lake, spreading to every corner of the galaxy at faster-than-light speeds along the ripples of the Warp.

Almost at the same instant, Han Zhe felt several indescribable, massive, and ancient "gazes" cast a brief but cryptic look toward this unremarkable planet and this base that had been strangled in its cradle just as it was born, as if piercing through the endless void. Among those "gazes," some were coldly scrutinizing, some were crazed and restless, some were cunningly calculating, and some were purely violent.

On the far side of the distant sea of stars, certain entities were stirred by this signal.

On a planet shrouded in a hazy halo, slender figures frowned at prophetic visions, whispering about "uncertain variables" and "disturbances in fate."

Deep within a massive space junkyard, deafening roars and wild laughter stopped abruptly, followed by an even louder roar full of battle intent: "New scrap?! Where?! WAAAGH!!!"

In a well-ordered star system, a calm analysis report was quickly submitted: "Unknown human signal detected, technical characteristics do not match existing databases, potential threat/opportunity under assessment..."

And in certain unspeakable abysses, there were sounds of interested, overlapping chuckles and hisses.

But Han Zhe had no time to worry about any of that. He didn't even notice the red runes flashing frantically in the corner of the system interface, representing "abnormal increase in Warp activity."

Because that golden-armored giant, after swinging that sword, had for the first time completely turned his gaze toward the Command Center where he was located. Across the thick armor and the distance, Han Zhe felt that gaze like a physical ice pick, piercing through all barriers and pinning his soul.

Then, he received a reply. Not through a communication channel, but a more direct, more irresistible declaration that seemed to ring out at the very level of universal laws. The voice was majestic, cold, and contained an unquestionable will of judgment, spoken in gothic, but every syllable was as heavy as a thousand tons:

"Xenos."

"The Emperor."

"No."

"Ac-"

"cept-"

"Sur-"

"render."

Every word was accompanied by a step forward from that Primarch. With the first step, the remaining Refinery completely collapsed. With the second step, the power station overloaded and exploded, plunging the base into a dimness maintained only by the Command Center's backup power. With the third step, he slightly bent his knees, and the ground beneath him cracked.

Han Zhe's pupils shrank to pinpoints. He remembered the system's initial warning—"Extremely Exclusive Civilization Entity."

It wasn't xenophobia.

It was exclusivity.

Except for the "humanity" they recognized, everything must be purged.

"No—!!!" A cry of despair was stuck in Han Zhe's throat.

With the fourth step, the ground beneath the Primarch's feet exploded—not a depression, but a reverse, violent eruption! His massive body, burning with golden and ethereal blue flames, turned into a meteor that tore through the air. His greatsword trailed behind him, and where the blade pointed was the very core of the Command Center!

Time seemed to stretch. Han Zhe could see every magnificent engraving and war scar on the other's armor, could see the blue flames flickering on the greatsword as if longing to drink deep of blood and souls, could see the bottomless darkness behind the helmet's visor, and within that darkness, those two points of cold starlight ignited purely for destruction.

Hide? Where could he hide?

Block? With what could he block?

He didn't even have time to taste the flavor of fear before that incarnation of destruction was right before his eyes.

BOOM——————————!!!

A roar a hundred times more violent than all the previous explosions combined.

The Command Center's thick silver-gray armor was no sturdier than a layer of cardboard before that burning greatsword. The blade cleaved in with irresistible force; the shrieking sound of metal being torn, melted, and vaporized was drowned in the tide of the explosion.

Sturdy structural beams twisted and snapped, precision instruments exploded into a sky full of electrical sparks, and the floating holographic screens were instantly extinguished. The shockwave tossed and crushed everything inside.

Han Zhe's last consciousness was a blinding flash, a deafening roar, the agonizing pain of every bone in his body seemingly breaking at once, and the system's hurried, intermittent, and finally ceasing electronic voice:

[Warning... Command Center... structural collapse... core... damaged... sys... tem... forced... hibernation... attempting... host... life... support...]

Darkness.

A darkness that swallowed everything.

And within the darkness, that cold judgment that seemed to echo eternally:

"Xenos..."

---

An unknown amount of time passed, perhaps a moment, perhaps ten thousand years.

A faint, pale blue light struggled to ignite deep within Han Zhe's nearly dissipated consciousness. Like a candle in the wind, it stubbornly refused to go out.

[Detected... host... life signals... extremely weak... initiating... final emergency protocol...]

[Stripping... damaged core modules... attempting... soul binding... energy depleted... locating... nearest... stable... Spatio-temporal Anchor...]

[Location... complete... coordinates... locked... teleporting...]

That Glimmer wrapped Han Zhe's broken consciousness, laboriously tore open a tiny spatial rift, and plunged into the endless, kaleidoscopic dimensional turbulence, stumbling in escape toward some distant, unknown, and perhaps slightly safer "anchor."

Behind it, upon the burning ruins, the golden-armored giant slowly withdrew his greatsword, the blue flames licking at non-existent blood on the blade. He coldly scanned the "Xenos nest" that had been completely turned to scorched earth and wreckage, confirming there were no more life or abnormal energy reactions.

"Purge complete," his deep voice transmitted back to the warship in orbit. "Record: Cleared one unknown Xenos outpost; technical characteristics not yet cataloged. Suggest increasing patrol frequency in this star sector."

He turned and did not look at the ruins again, as if he had merely completed a trivial daily cleaning. The golden figure walked toward the waiting Thunderhawk Gunship amidst the gradually subsiding storm.

The murky sun still hung high, shining upon this land of death that had returned to "purity."

Only in the deepest part of the Warp did several ancient wills cast a brief and playful glance at that escaping light, faint as a firefly. The variables have been cast. The play has only just begun.