Yuno knew exactly when New Dream would arrive.
It was an instinctive certainty, a deep, inescapable sense of destiny. New Dream sprang from the union of her soul and Yuki's, a self-aware entity woven directly from the core of their essence.
On a spiritual plane, this child belonged entirely to them.
Because Yuno possessed vastly greater capabilities, she could feel the exact rhythm of the child's impending arrival.
As the moment drew nearer, a rare tension gripped her.
A child... a mother... These concepts felt strange, almost surreal to an existence such as hers.
"Yuno?"
Sensing his lover's unease, Yuki gently reached out and clasped her hand in his.
"Don't worry," he murmured softly. "We'll be good parents."
"Everything feels as if it has unfolded so quickly," Yuno mused, leaning into his touch. "I have existed for countless eons, yet the last century has held more meaning than all those empty ages combined. Compared to these hundred years, the vast past feels utterly mundane."
"Well," Yuki smiled faintly, "we have plenty of time ahead of us."
"Yuki," Yuno asked suddenly, looking at him, "do you truly believe the Tyranids' current way of existing is right?"
Yuki shook his head, choosing not to answer directly.
"Don't change your nature on my account, Yuno. How the Tyranid swarms exist—how you exist—is not for me to dictate. I'm just an ordinary guy."
In truth, Yuki didn't know how the Tyranids ought to exist either. He possessed neither the right nor the capacity to decide the ultimate fate of the galaxy, let alone the universe.
His perspective was limited, his strength finite, and his mind fundamentally human. He simply could not carry the weight of a species as unfathomable as the Tyranids on his shoulders.
Knowing his own limits, Yuki had long since learned to accept things as they were.
"I see..." Yuno murmured. Her gaze drifted across their surroundings, taking in the intricate chamber crafted entirely from living organic matter. "To me, none of it really matters. I only wonder what the rest of my swarms will think..."
"Aren't you and the swarms of one mind?" Yuki asked, brow furrowing slightly.
"Logically, yes. But..."
Yuno trailed off, at a loss for words. The realization unsettled her. In theory, her will was absolute, completely identical with the collective consciousness of the Tyranids. Whatever she thought, every bio-entity in the swarm should instinctively share.
Yet now, a subtle, bizarre dissonance fluttered at the edge of her consciousness—a strange anomaly that left her faintly uneasy.
For the moment, however, she buried that quiet anxiety deep within her heart.
Because the newest member of their family was about to arrive.
---
Out in the void beyond the bio-planet...
The Immaterium churned in violent, turbulent waves.
The fabric of realspace found itself forced into contact with the supreme concepts of the Warp. After all, where else in the galaxy could simultaneously withstand the combined, projected presence of the four Chaos Gods?
Except perhaps Terra, where the Astronomican and the Golden Throne worked in unison to amplify the Emperor's immense psychic light.
Khorne stood amidst the void, looking down at the flesh-crafted planet and the massive Hive Fleet encircling it like a armored ring.
The sheer density of psychic pressure here was suffocating. The oppressive shadow of the Hive Mind hung so thick that even Daemon Primarchs would find it impossible to linger for long without being unraveled.
Only the supreme entities of the Warp could set foot here unaffected.
Moments later, Slaanesh, Nurgle, and Tzeentch materialized in turn.
All had come to witness the birth of this impossible lifeform. As they waited in the silent dark, a final, towering presence manifested.
The Emperor of Mankind.
He radiated a blinding golden luminosity. Following the birth of the Great Rift, His power had surged to unprecedented heights, deepening the Ruinous Powers' wariness of Him.
No matter the era, the Emperor remained a deadly, unpredictable foe.
And today was no exception.
"Have you all gathered here hoping to claim some scraps for yourselves?" the Emperor's golden projection spoke, his voice resounding like distant thunder.
"Scraps?" Nurgle grunted cheerfully. "I merely wish to ensure these two don't suddenly go mad upon gaining a child and come hunting us down. Besides, making a good impression on little New Dream might yield a few delightful benefits down the line."
Tzeentch turned a sharp, feathered head toward Nurgle in surprise. "New Dream? You already know the child's name?"
Realizing he had unwittingly revealed foresight that encroached upon Tzeentch's domain, Nurgle quickly added with a dismissive wave, "Naturally. My schemes are proceeding strictly according to plan."
Nurgle pulled his rotted cloak over his snout in sheer disgust, taking a step back behind Khorne's towering silhouette. "How utterly dreadful. The birth of new life naturally falls under my purview, though I suppose the name belongs to the parents' wishes."
"New Dream..." Slaanesh purred, a wicked grin spreading across their ethereal features. "What a delicious name. I do hope the little darling who bears it tastes every bit as sweet as it sounds."
"Slaanesh," Tzeentch warned dryly, "if Yuki and Yuno thrash you to a pulp over that remark, don't say I didn't warn you."
"Hahaha! But darling," Slaanesh giggled, "the harder they hit, the more exquisite the pleasure!"
Tzeentch sneered and backed two paces away.
The Emperor, standing apart from the Chaos Gods, remained quiet for a long moment before speaking in a heavy, deliberate tone.
"This child will change the galaxy."
With that single proclamation, He fell silent once more.
This insufferable creature...
The Emperor had a habit of keeping everyone off-balance. His nature was volatile, a bizarre paradox that seemed to blend traits of all four Chaos Gods—at times more cunning than Tzeentch, more ruthless than Khorne, more captivating than Slaanesh, and more merciful than Nurgle.
Yet at other times, He seemed entirely stripped of that power. The four Ruinous Powers could only surmise that He suffered periods of profound weakness due to His tether to the Golden Throne.
Before they could ponder the matter further, a sudden shift rippled through the fabric of space.
The Warp roared in a frenzy. Even before the supreme lords of the Immaterium, the warp energies howled in wild, uncontrollable delight, as if greeting their true master.
Tzeentch's voice carried a rare note of genuine astonishment. "This frequency... Could the Great Devourer's child be a psychic prodigy?"
"Calling this level a 'prodigy' is a gross understatement!" Slaanesh gasped, eyes wide. "This power already surpasses the Primarchs! Emperor... your precious sons pale in comparison to this little thing."
The Emperor offered no reply. His golden gaze remained fixed on the twisting, organic world below, sensing the overwhelming psychic resonance radiating from its core—a power directly tethered to the Tyranids' primary armada deep in the void.
How extraordinary, He thought silently.
Deep within their respective realms, the four gods and the Emperor all pondered the true scale of the main Tyranid fleet approaching the galaxy.
Then, a clear, ringing cry echoed across both realspace and the Warp, emanating directly from the heart of the Hive World.
"Waaaaah!"
As the violent warp energies swirled around them, Nurgle fumbled around his filthy robes and pulled out a woven fruit basket.
"Honestly, Nurgle," Slaanesh groaned, rolling their eyes. "A fruit basket every single time? Have you no imagination?"
"Heartfelt sincerity beats novelty every time," Nurgle huffed defensively.
The Emperor reached into His golden aura and produced a small trinket—a finely crafted, miniature Aquila, forged by His own hands.
Khorne glanced at the emblem and let out a rough, barking laugh. "If you had shown your own sons even a fraction of such sentiment back then, half of them wouldn't have fallen into our hands!"
The Emperor remained silent.
Only after a long pause did He answer softly, "That girl is vital. We must secure her goodwill."
Noticing something strange in the Emperor's aura, Slaanesh leaned toward Tzeentch, whispering, "Tell me... doesn't He seem a bit off today?"
Tzeentch shrugged fluidly. "When is He ever normal? Never mind Him. Let us see if Yuki and the Great Devourer will actually grant us an audience with the child."
Even as they spoke, the living planet below began to shift and unravel.
"It seems the temporary cradle is dissolving," Tzeentch noted. "Come, let us shed our dignity for once and push our way closer."