In multiple sectors, intelligence regarding the Zerg Swarm had already begun to circulate.
Make no mistake—the Imperium's Administratum remained that same inefficient and bloated entity, but that didn't mean pirates, gang members, and Rogue Traders didn't understand the value of information.
A small fraction of people who escaped their home world before the Hive World infection fully spread carried news of the Swarm with them. Furthermore, there were space pirates who had encountered the Zerg on other planets and narrowly escaped. They frequented taverns, cathedrals, and brothels; in short, long before the Imperial Navy knew of the Zerg Swarm, their terrors were already being whispered far and wide.
In a dimly lit tavern, a few young gang members were currently boasting.
"Did you lot know? Those xenos bugs they call the 'Zerg'... there's so many of 'em, I bet my life there's more of 'em than the entire population of a Hive City combined."
"Stop blowing smoke, Anderson. You've never even stepped foot out of the Underhive. How could you have seen those xenos?"
"Exactly! How could the Lords of the Inquisition allow such terrifying xenos to exist in a neighboring system?"
"And you say these bugs can destroy an entire Hive City? My Throne, have you been drinking too much low-grade rotgut?"
Anderson's face turned beet red at being called a liar. He hadn't actually seen the Zerg Swarm with his own eyes; all the information he had came from a sailor he met at the docks.
"Believe it or not, it's up to you. But I'm telling you, those big-shots in the Inquisition are no match for the Zerg. I once saw a beast five stories tall step on a Leman Russ tank like it was a tin can."
"Step on a Leman Russ?"
A heavy hand landed on Anderson's shoulder. He turned to see a group of Planetary Defense Force (PDF) soldiers looking at him with expressions of pure irritation.
"When you say something that stupid, you get an answer like this!"
The soldier's iron fist slammed into Anderson's face. The bartender, seemingly used to such scenes, silently continued pouring drinks for other patrons, ignoring the commotion.
The crowd cheered. They didn't care who was right or wrong; they just wanted entertainment.
"Hit him back, Anderson! Don't embarrass the gang!"
"Stomp him like he said that tank got stomped!"
Some mocked Anderson, while others hoped he would give the Imperial soldiers a beating. This was a bar, not a courtroom; no one cared about order—they only wanted to see blood flow.
Anderson was pinned to the floor and pummeled. He tried to resist, but he was small even among gang members. If he wasn't desperate for attention, he wouldn't have been bragging in a bar in the first place.
He took a dozen punches before the PDF soldier was finally pulled away by his comrades.
"If you ever dare utter another insult against the Leman Russ again, I'll blow your brains out!"
Anderson was spat on as he lay there. He was a pathetic loser, and the humiliation made him grit his teeth in silence.
However, not everyone distrusted him.
A mysterious figure draped in a cloak approached him and reached out a hand.
"It seems the prophecy of the Astropath Vane was correct. There is indeed something here of interest to me. Stand up, young man, and tell me more about these †xenos† you've witnessed."
Looking at the stranger's ornate leather glove, Anderson was bewildered.
"Who are you?"
"I? I am a loyal servant of the Emperor, a man who has spent his life purging the xenos. You should be glad you aren't an alien yourself, young man."
It was only then that Anderson caught a glimpse of the clothing beneath the hood. The uniform was as magnificent as a high noble's, radiating an aura of nobility and justice.
And then he saw the symbol.
It was a sigil resembling a capital letter †I†, but with two horizontal bars across it.
"The Inquisi—"
"Shh. I don't want my identity exposed here. Let's find somewhere private to continue our talk."
Anderson didn't dare utter another word, forcing down his grievances. This mysterious man came from the Inquisition—a figure an ordinary Imperial citizen might go their entire life without ever seeing.
Once they reached an alley outside the bar, the mysterious man pulled back his hood, revealing brilliant short blond hair. A man as handsome as a prince stood before Anderson.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Atlas. I can sense that a portion of what you said in that bar was true. Have you really encountered the aliens known as the Zerg Swarm?"
"No, my Lord. I haven't seen them. I only heard about them from a sailor at the docks. They are refugees from other worlds."
Anderson didn't dare lie, as he had heard that some Inquisitors were Psykers. Those Psykers could easily probe his mind to see if his words were true. As for whether the man was actually named Atlas, that didn't matter.
"What else? Did they give any specific details about these †xenos†?"
"Two Terran weeks. They took down a Hive City in less than two Terran weeks. Before that, there were no signs of an attack. But suddenly, they emerged from the Underhive, appearing like a tidal wave."
Atlas listened and nodded with interest. "Did the sailor mention †Infection†?"
"Yes, he did. He said the residents of the Underhive caught a mass contagion that the doctors couldn't cure. After a few days, they appeared all over the Hive City like walking corpses. How... how did you know, my Lord?"
Anderson finished his question before realizing his mistake. How could he dare question an Inquisitor? If the man took offense, Anderson would be sent to meet the Emperor immediately!
"Prophecy."
Atlas didn't seem inclined to hide the truth. There was no need, really. Not long ago, Atlas had seen a vision. Since his own psychic power wasn't particularly strong, he had consulted other Psykers. With the guidance of a powerful Astropath lady, he had come to this planet. On his way here, Atlas had even received a †revelation† from the Emperor—something he still found incredible.
"I shouldn't say much more, my Lord, but I actually have something else."
Anderson pulled a notebook from his coat. The cover was weathered but intact. Atlas took the notebook; the name written on it was Rupp.
"I recall you said your name was Anderson, not Rupp."
"The sailor gave this to me. It has some of his diary entries and information about those bugs. I sto—I mean, I 'borrowed' it. I thought it might be of use to you."
Atlas flipped it open. In the middle section, there was a sketch of a Zergling. The hideous creature instantly made Atlas turn serious. Further back, there were illustrations of Hydralisks, Roaches, and even an Ultralisk. To demonstrate the Ultralisk's immense scale, Rupp had drawn a tiny human figure at its feet—the person barely reached the height of the beast's footpad.
The sketches weren't detailed, but they were vivid enough.
A variant of a Tyranid Hive Fleet? Or a new swarm unrelated to the Tyranids...
Atlas had a gut feeling that these things were not Tyranids.
But they were undoubtedly something far more troublesome.