Within the Webway, the Emperor stood before the enormous control console woven from gold and silver, his gaze resting on the ever-changing psychic projection that displayed the real-time status of nodes throughout the Webway.
His fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the console, a rare, almost imperceptible sign of anxiety.
Suddenly, his fingers stopped.
His body stiffened slightly in that instant, and his gaze shifted from the psychic projection toward some unseen point deep within the Webway.
A glimmer of golden light flashed through his eyes. It vanished in an instant, but the gravity it carried lingered.
The Emperor seemed to have sensed something.
His expression turned grave at once. For the first time, his ordinarily timeless, tranquil face showed the oppressive tension of an approaching storm.
He turned to Malcador behind him, his voice carrying an unquestionable urgency and resolve. "Evacuate everyone immediately. Now."
Malcador's brow furrowed slightly, but he did not ask why.
He had followed the Emperor for thousands of years and knew that every decision he made rested on careful consideration, even if those reasons were sometimes beyond others' understanding.
"Prioritize the evacuation of the researchers and Adeptus Mechanicus personnel," the Emperor continued.
His gaze swept across the busy figures in the Webway—the white-robed researchers and red-robed members of the Adeptus Mechanicus, all still utterly unaware of the approaching danger.
"Malcador, you have command here. Make sure everyone gets out safely. Leave no one behind."
"Understood." Malcador nodded.
He did not need to know why, because he understood that the Emperor did not need to explain his actions.
The Emperor surely had their best interests at heart. He surely saw dangers they could not. He surely had his reasons.
Thousands of years together had instilled this almost absolute trust in Malcador.
Relayed by Malcador, the