They saw a pack of Tyranids frozen in the act of "feeding." One enormous "flesh eater," like a living battering ram, was driving its massive claws into the chest of a dying Ork.
For the Space Marines from the time of the Horus Heresy, this was their first glimpse of these... pure "devourers" from beyond the Milky Way Galaxy.
"...Are these... our future enemies?" The Ultramarines captain looked at the Tyranids' hideous carapaces, sharp claws, and fangs, his expression grimmer than it had ever been.
"How many... are there?"
"Endless." Horus gave an answer that filled everyone with despair.
They also saw an enormous exhibition area resembling a crystal garden. Hundreds of Aeldari from different Craftworlds and corsair bands were displayed within.
Some were frozen in meditation, some in the midst of a war dance, and others in the tragic instant of dying together with their enemies.
One display even held a weeping Harlequin. His mask had slipped halfway off, revealing a handsome face filled with boundless sorrow. He cradled a shattered spirit stone in his hands.
"...They... are also enemies of the Imperium," the Commissar from Vostroya said coldly.
"But they... have also fought beside us against common threats." The White Scars captain recalled his brief cooperation with the Aeldari during the Great Crusade.
Those words caused a small stir. These warriors from different eras also held vastly different attitudes toward "xenos."
"All xenos must be purged," the Imperial Fists captain said stubbornly.
"That depends... on whether they get in our way." The Colonel from Catachan wiped his machete.
"Silence."
Horus spoke again. His voice was quiet, but it silenced every argument.
"In this universe, there are no eternal enemies, nor eternal friends. Only... eternal interests." In a tone steeped in "pragmatism," he spoke words that sounded unfamiliar to