Deep within Holy Terra, inside the secluded spire of the astropath clan, a secret meeting was underway, one that would never be publicized.
The air was thick with the pungent smell of embalming fluid and the faint hum of psychic energy.
Only a few participants were present, yet they represented the highest authority controlling the Imperium's shipping lanes.
Several massive training tanks were placed in the center of the circular meeting room, with distorted, non-human forms suspended in the murky liquid.
These were some of the most ancient and powerful astropath patriarchs, whose bodies had long since deteriorated under the erosion of time and the Warp, with only their consciousness and the crucial third eye preserved in life-sustaining containers.
Surrounding the training tanks were several clan representatives who still maintained a basic human form, but whose psychic eyes on their foreheads remained unsettling.
"The order of Terra is being broken," an idea transmitted directly from a psychic resonance, originating from one of the most ancient containers, was cold and unruffled. "The Custodes have stepped out of the Imperial Palace, the flagships of the Black Templars are mobilizing, and Rogal Dorn is driving all of this. This is far from normal."
"We can all feel it," a relatively younger representative spoke, his voice dry. "Beneath the currents of the Warp, there's an undercurrent we cannot decipher.
It doesn't come from any power we know… but the outcome it points to is catastrophic for us."
They shared a vague premonition, stemming from bloodline and psychic ability.
A cataclysmic change, capable of overturning the existing order, was imminent. A storm was brewing, and their astropath clan, an ancient privileged class that stood firm by relying on Warp travel, seemed to be placed at the center of this storm, foreseeing irreparable damage to themselves within it.
"The crux of the problem is that we don't know the source of this change," anxiety rippled from the consciousness in another container. "It doesn't directly originate from a Warp deity, nor from any known Primarch or alien… It's like a… technological disturbance? Something that could fundamentally shake the foundation of our existence."
It was this unknown that filled them with unprecedented fear.
They were accustomed to foreseeing danger by peering into the Warp, but this time, the threat seemed to come from the very system upon which they relied for survival.
"We cannot sit idly by," the original ancient consciousness decided. "We must find the source of this undercurrent. Utilize all resources, investigate all abnormal technological research, especially those that might involve… alternative navigation theories.
Any sign that could threaten the astropath's position must be nipped in the bud before it escalates into a major disaster."
"But Rogal Dorn and the Custodes…" one representative said with a worried expression.
"Precisely why the action must be covert and swift," the ancient consciousness emphasized. "Before the official forces of the Imperium can react, we must eliminate the root cause. For the survival of the clan, any potential threat must be eradicated."
Just as the members of the astropath clan reached a consensus and prepared to deploy their hidden forces within the shadows of the Imperium, the heavy doors of the meeting room shattered with a bone-jarring metallic screech.
Golden figures surged in like a torrent.
The Custodes—the Emperor's personal guard, who should have forever guarded the deepest parts of the Imperial Palace—now appeared in the core secret chamber of the astropath spire.
They were silent, but the Guardian Spears in their hands gleamed with deadly cold light.
What made the astropaths even more despairing was the appearance of figures in paint black armor, emanating an aura of nothingness, immediately following the Custodes—the Sisters of Silence.
Their very existence was like a vacuum in the Warp. The astropaths' third eyes, capable of peering into the Warp, instantly flared with searing pain upon contact with these soulless beings. Their psychic connections were forcibly severed, and their precognitive abilities vanished without a trace.
"You… how dare you…" The most ancient astropath, immersed in a tank, tried to emit a psychic scream, but the thought dissipated into nothingness upon touching the null-field surrounding the Sisters of Silence.
No warning, no declaration.
The Custodes' slaughter was efficient and ruthless.
Guardian Spears precisely pierced the astropath representatives who still maintained human form, their power fields instantly reducing flesh and bone to charred fragments.
For the ancient beings immersed in tanks, the Custodes directly used energy weapons, vaporizing the expensive life-sustaining tanks along with the distorted bodies inside.
The Sisters of Silence, like shadows of death, moved along the edges of the battlefield. Their presence ensured that no psychic signals could escape, and no astropath could flee or transmit information through Warp means.
Their silence was more suffocating than the Custodes' blades.
This sudden purge was swift and thorough.
Just minutes later, the core members of the astropath clan were reduced to charred remains and shattered glass on the floor.
The golden Custodes and the silver Sisters stood silently amidst the corpses, as if they had completed an ordinary cleanup mission.
When the last astropath clan representative fell beneath a Custodes' spear, the Custodian Tribune commanding the purge immediately reported to Rogal Dorn via encrypted communication.
"Primarch, the spire's interior has been purged; all designated targets eliminated," the Tribune's voice came through the communicator, calm and unruffled, as if he had merely completed a routine patrol.
Dorn's projection stood in the command node. He received the synchronized combat log data stream, unsurprised by the Tribune's efficiency.
He was more concerned about the subsequent impact.
"Tribune," Dorn's deep voice resonated, "is the scope limited to this?"
"Currently limited to the attendees of this meeting and their direct bloodlines," the Tribune confirmed, then posed a crucial question, "Should we expand the purge based on the list? We are capable of eliminating all recorded core members of the astropath clan on Terra and its neighboring star systems within a standard Terran day."
This proposal contained terrifying bloodshed.
If executed, the Warp travel system, upon which the Imperium relied, would instantly be paralyzed.
"No," Dorn's answer was decisive, without a trace of hesitation. "Purging these representatives is to stifle their attempts to destroy the Imperium's future before they can cause greater harm.
Their precognitive abilities made them aware of the threat, and they chose the wrong way to respond."
He paused slightly, allowing his will to be clearly conveyed: "Our goal is not to uproot the astropaths now. Until a reliable alternative solution matures and becomes widespread, the Imperium still needs their eyes to see through the mists of the Warp.
Expanding the purge would only cause unnecessary panic and upheaval, and might even push clans that are not yet hostile completely to the opposing side. Stability outweighs everything."
"Understood," the Custodian Tribune immediately acknowledged the order, without any questioning. "The cleanup operation is nearing completion; no traceable marks will be left."
The communication was cut.
Dorn stood alone in the command node, his massive body like a mountain in the dim light.
He knew that this precise decapitation strike was merely a temporary measure, temporarily removing the most radical elements who first perceived the threat of Osiris' technology.
But this undoubtedly also sounded an alarm for all astropath clans, forcing them to be even more vigilant against any technological changes that might undermine their position.