Chapter 543: The Great Migration

On one of the Aeldari worlds, Farseer Eldrad Ulthran suddenly rose from his seat, troubled by a deep, inexplicable sense of dread.

His expression reflected confusion and unease.

After aiding the Imperium during the Horus Heresy—diverting part of the traitor legions—the Aeldari had, under the Emperor’s orders, established a fragile strategic partnership with humanity’s remnants.

Their allowed mobility had expanded, and they were granted limited access to Imperial resources.

Compared to the days of the Aeldari Empire, their condition was pitiful—

but compared to extinction, the alliance was tolerable.

Yet now, after a rare period of peace, Eldrad once again felt a colossal threat approaching the Aeldari.

The last time he felt this sensation, an Aeldari world had been annihilated, and his already dwindling people suffered another grievous loss.

With a frown, he issued several quick commands to his aides, then shut his eyes.

His consciousness slipped into the Warp, following its chaotic tides and distorted timelines, casting his sight into the future…

—

Moments later, Eldrad recoiled in horror.

In the currents of time, a titanic, twisted maw—so vast it eclipsed his entire vision—lunged toward him, shrieking as it came.

No.

Not toward him alone.

It was devouring the entire galaxy.

And its origin lay outside the galaxy—beyond any star, beyond any map.

Realizing the maw represented a species, cold sweat streamed down Eldrad’s brow.

Another existential threat.

Another doomsday for the Aeldari.

He attempted to withdraw from the vision to issue immediate war preparations.

But before he could move, more and more massive silhouettes began pushing into the galaxy—

each representing a powerful species, each shape reflecting its relative strength.

The Milky Way, already clouded and unstable, transformed into a vast, overfilled arena.

Countless species clashed in a grand cosmic melee.

Among them, Eldrad saw races whose power rivaled the Aeldari Empire at its height.

But that first entity—

the colossal maw—

He could not assign it a power level.

He only knew:

It was stronger than every species that had ever existed in the galaxy.

Stronger than the C’tan.

Stronger than the Old Ones.

And unlike those ancient powers—who sought domination or creation—this thing desired only to consume.

It was not a rival.

It was not an enemy.

It was the End.

—

Elsewhere in the galaxy, every being with true foresight felt the disturbance.

Even the Emperor—bound to the Golden Throne, maintaining the Warp Suppression Field—felt it.

Though not as specialized in prophecy as Eldrad, His superior psychic might granted Him clarity nonetheless.

During the Horus Heresy, the Chaos Gods had shielded Horus from temporal observation.

This time, the Tyranids—nor any other incoming race—enjoyed no such protection.

Tracing the time-stream forward, the Emperor beheld the same chaos.

His golden eyes narrowed.

Turning to Sanguinius, He spoke gravely:

“A catastrophe approaches the Imperium. Our survival hangs by a thread. We must withdraw our forces and population, abandoning all low-value worlds and indefensible regions.”

“You will lead the Legions to strip every resource from those areas—however violently you must mine them. Leman Russ and the others shall evacuate populations and assets immediately.”

Sanguinius’ heart tightened.

He had never seen the Emperor—stoic even when Horus raised the banner of treachery—order such drastic measures before the enemy even arrived.

What kind of foe could inspire such fear?

Still, Sanguinius accepted the order without hesitation. Duty came before doubt.

—

When the decree spread across the Imperium—

an empire already shaken by the Heresy—

it ignited an uproar.

Calculations showed that following the Emperor’s evacuation plan would require abandoning three-quarters of all Imperial territory.

Billions of nobles and citizens, forced to leave their ancestral homes, cursed the Emperor as a madman.

Some whispered:

“His old wounds from Horus must have reopened— He’s gone senile!”

Others accused Him of cowardice, incompetence, or tyranny.

And in the harsher regions of the Imperium—

people did more than whisper.

Entire worlds rejected the evacuation edict.

Some planetary militias even fired upon Imperial troops sent to assist them.

To these rebellions, the Emperor offered no sympathy.

“I cannot save those who refuse to be saved.”

With time running out, He focused only on worlds with strategic or humanitarian value.

The rest…

He simply let go.

The Great Devourer was coming.

There was no room left for leniency.