Chapter 365: Will Terra on the Nuclear Wasteland Dream of Brown-Skinned Magic Girls?

The golden mist of the Webway gate twisted and interwove, while Sylandrie the Veilwalker's clear chant echoed through the void.

A disorienting sensation of reality and the Warp intertwining slashed across Zhou Yun's body, leaving him with a faint dizziness.

Then came the weight of reality pressing back onto his shoulders—a solid, grounding feeling unlike the Webway, surging from all directions.

Followed by cold, silence, and stillness——————

The deep void, unshaded by any sky, lay bare before Zhou Yun; glimmers danced on his ocular lenses, stars and brilliant cosmic rays flickered in the blackness of space.

Zhou Yun took a light step forward, and gray-white dust erupted beneath his feet like rolling clouds and mist.

He looked around and found himself standing at the base of a massive crater, beside the Webway gate inscribed with countless runes; the dim stars above barely illuminated the surroundings.

This was clearly Luna, the Moon, Earth's first extraterrestrial territory ever settled by humanity.

Unlike the Moon of his memory from humanity's third millennium, this Moon had been significantly developed.

Beneath its icy surface teemed vast subterranean hive-cities, housing billions who produced industrial goods for Terra; on its surface dotted numerous strategic bases, fortress-strongholds, and spaceports.

Moreover, the Moon's gravity was no longer one-sixth of Earth's—it matched Earth's exactly.

This was thanks to the terraforming engine buried deep within the lunar core—an ancient artifact of the Golden Age, originally designed to transform the Moon into a world as beautiful as old Earth.

It had indeed succeeded: for centuries before the Old Night, the Moon had been a world with gravity and atmosphere indistinguishable from Earth's.

But as time passed and humanity declined, the terraforming engine began to malfunction; the gravity system still operated normally, but the atmosphere generator had been destroyed, leaving only a trace of thin air on the surface, with only a few regions retaining breathable air.

The crater where Zhou Yun stood was not among them; only the effect of his adaptation lamps allowed him to move normally in the thin, frigid air.

At that moment, faint mechanical sounds drifted through the thin air, and a massive, metallic insect-like form writhed into view within the dark crater.

Belisarius Dora Kaul, draped in a crimson robe, bowed slightly toward Zhou Yun with a touch of reverence.

But his body was so enormous that even bent over, he still towered well above Zhou Yun.

While Zhou Yun, Guilliman, and Sanguinius fought Magnus, Ahriman, Carlos, and Abaddon, the Archmagos, Saint Celestine, Grand Master Voldus of the Grey Knights, and Inquisitor Gravex had also traveled via separate routes toward Terra.

Zhou Yun noticed bloodstains on Kaul's robes—the Archmagos had clearly fought, though his battle had been far less intense than Zhou Yun's.

As the dizziness from entering the Webway faded and his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, Zhou Yun sensed others nearby.

Grand Master Voldus's Grey Knights had suffered some damage, but not severe.

The Archmagos's Adeptus Ministorum troops were forming ranks on the cold lunar regolith; their remaining flesh was turning black.

Inquisitor Gravex and Saint Celestine's Imperial Guard units had also sustained minor casualties, but their Cadia 184th Regiment was equipped with artifacts, so losses were light.

Saint Celestine fluttered her wings, slicing through the dark sky like a golden miniature sun as she landed before Zhou Yun.

"My lord," Celestine bowed lightly, her eyes tinged with faint anxiety.

Zhou Yun had crossed the Webway gate alone; she was clearly worried about the Primarchs and the others.

After all, splitting forces had greatly eased pressure on other units—but it also left Zhou Yun's group facing one Daemon Primarch, one Chosen of Tzeentch, and one Chief Daemon.

And all three were masters in their respective fields, ranking among the upper echelons of Primarchs, Chosen, and Chief Daemons.

Hearing this, Zhou Yun couldn't help glancing into his fourth-dimensional pocket.

【Item Name: Robert Guilliman】

【Origin: Sol System—Terra—Mount Ximalaya—Imperial Palace Underground Lab】

【Evaluation: One of the twenty-one transcendent offspring forged by the Emperor using gene-alchemical techniques, Robert Guilliman was the thirteenth, a product of intense Warp resonance fused with the Emperor's potent genetic sequence. His flesh carries the echo of Order from the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar within the Warp.】

Anyone near him is unconsciously influenced by his Warp nature, drawn into his ordered schemes—often manifesting as increased workloads, chronic overwork, and an instinctive acceptance of Guilliman's imposed regulations; he is effectively a born martyr to overtime.】

【Production Date: 792. 30】

【Status: Fatigued】

【Value:】

The string of digits representing Guilliman's price made Zhou Yun dizzy—he couldn't even count how many zeros it had.

The number was so staggering it stirred even Zhou Yun, who had once bankrupted Ultramar's gold coins.

After all, the fourth-dimensional pocket judged that Guilliman's Warp essence originated from the entire Order of the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar.

Ultramar flourished and existed because of his Order, and that Order shaped Guilliman himself.

Guilliman was Ultramar; Ultramar was Guilliman. In the pocket's judgment, Guilliman equaled the total value of Ultramar itself—this was a severe test for any official.

At that moment, Guilliman himself crawled out of the fourth-dimensional pocket.

"I'm fine."

Guilliman spoke wearily.

Carlos's spell had indeed injured him, but not in the way he'd anticipated.

The spell had violently stirred Guilliman's post-resurrection negative emotions, especially the accumulated fatigue from endless overtime.

He was now mentally exhausted.

"Sanguinius needs time to recover."

Sanguinius's wounds primarily stemmed from the ancient scars left by Horus, infused with the power of the Four Gods; the Changer of Ways had used them to weaken him, but he should recover soon.

Suddenly, Guilliman noticed Zhou Yun's gaze.

"Can you please crawl back into your fourth-dimensional pocket?" Zhou Yun jiggled his belly pocket, unable to help saying.

The official still wanted more trials.

"Hm?" Guilliman eyed Zhou Yun warily.

Joking aside, Zhou Yun would never actually sell Guilliman.

After all, humanity, the Imperium, and Zhou Yun himself all needed Guilliman's transcendent luck.

As long as Guilliman didn't spend all day drafting the Imperial Codex and tricking Zhou Yun into overtime, Zhou Yun wouldn't sell him.

Using bamboo helicopters, Zhou Yun and the others descended swiftly from the crater's base.

Within minutes, Zhou Yun, Guilliman, and the vanguard forces had climbed to the crater's rim.

Zhou Yun now saw the dull yellow planet hanging in the black sky.

That was Terra, Earth, the homeland of Zhou Yun and all humanity, the heart of the entire Imperium.

But this star no longer bore the blue he remembered; all he saw was a grotesque, dry, dull yellow.

Radiation-choked clouds encircled its outer layer; oceans had vanished, leaving only faint, dried scars where ancient seas had once been.

Beyond that, he saw only countless, chaotic hive-cities glowing on its surface—like luminous parasites infesting Terra's skin.

"Fuck."

Zhou Yun blurted out:

"If I weren't standing on the Moon, I'd think that was Mars."

"I personally find Mars's atmosphere more pleasant to breathe."

Belisarius Kaul, standing beside Zhou Yun, suddenly spoke:

"You know, Mars still had several small oceans during humanity's thirty-fifth millennium."

"Terra's last ocean was drained by a water thief at the dawn of the thirtieth millennium."

"." Zhou Yun's only response was a grimace.

Though he'd prepared himself, seeing Terra reduced to this state still stirred in him a primal urge to curse his degenerate descendants.

Because of those techno-barbarians' ravages, Terra could no longer grow apples—big, flavorful, juicy, and capable of inspiring a brown-skinned magic girl Neo's dream.

Zhou Yun sighed inwardly—

Then he heard a commotion rising from the crater's base.

The loudest voice belonged to Sylandrie the Veilwalker, closing the Webway gate.

"Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!"

"By the bronze buns of Saint Dora and the hawk-nose of Xigaoqi!"

Sylandrie the Veilwalker shrieked incoherently, as if profoundly shaken.

Intrigued, Zhou Yun turned to look into the crater.

Then a massive crimson figure flashed past his vision.

Zhou Yun spun back, trying to identify the agile crimson form.

And he saw a scene he would never forget.

He knew that years from now, facing the Four Gods, he would recall this moment on the Moon: Magnus, naked to the waist, sprinting across the black sky above Terra. This was fucking abstract.

"Spin! My muscle power!"

Magnus's roar pierced the thin air, echoing across the entire Moon:

"Run!"

(End of Chapter)