Chapter 551: Observations in the Crimson Heaven

The Gloriana-class battleship Red Tears—

Sanguinius’s personal flagship—

was unusually silent today.

Inside one of its laboratories, the Primarch stood overseeing the tech-adepts at work.

“How is it?”

A Tech-Priest, after furiously adjusting the machine-spirit console, finally nodded.

“We have identified the cause.”

Sanguinius stepped closer, staring at the pale white display.

“Explain.”

After Senna had teleported them away, he searched for the Eternal Soul with no success.

Failing that, he returned to his flagship and inserted Senna’s data capsule into the Red Tears’ intelligence terminal.

Immediately—

the system froze.

It made him wonder whether her “gift” contained a hidden threat.

Yet judging from her behavior, deception seemed unlikely.

She had no reason to go through such elaborate trouble just to mock him.

The Tech-Priest hesitated before answering:

“After repeated checks, we found no faults. All components are functioning. The machine-spirit is pure. So the only conclusion is… it lagged.”

Sanguinius blinked.

“…Lagged? Lagged!?”

The Tech-Priest nodded solemnly, utterly unaware of how foolish the statement sounded.

“Yes. The storage device’s capacity is simply too large. When our system attempted to read it, it could not handle the data throughput.”

At that moment, Sanguinius remembered Senna’s earlier words:

“A simple information-storage device capable of holding 4.2 × 10¹⁹ gigabytes…”

A single (10¹⁶) was already immense.

But 4.2 billion …

a 27-digit exponential monster…

Sanguinius scratched his head.

He wasn’t sure whether the Tech-Priest was correct,

but the numbers alone suggested it was possible.

Even though the Red Tears used respectable Mars-forged hardware—

it still wasn’t Golden Age technology.

There were limits.

In the end, Sanguinius carefully removed the capsule and stored it securely.

He would bring it to Terra himself.

He would not take risks.

If Senna’s words were true,

this device was the greatest prize of his journey—

perhaps more valuable than his own life.

And he was prepared to give that life to deliver it safely to the Emperor.

—

Meanwhile—

because of the Warp’s chaotic distortion of time—

what felt like a short separation for Sanguinius

had been tens of thousands of years of travel for the Eternal Soul.

After ages drifting through the Warp,

a blinding red wall of light finally appeared before Senna.

Its surface was covered in vast, blooming flower-like patterns.

She had reached the correct destination.

Now, the only question was how to enter.

—

After another long period of preparation—

and a meticulously performed ritual—

a massive gate opened before her.

With tension and anticipation intertwined,

Senna guided the ship inside.

Crimson light enveloped the vessel.

Within, time and space fluctuated so violently that she could not tell how far she traveled—

Maybe a second.

Maybe infinity.

When she emerged, the first thing her sensors detected was—

A mountain.

Or rather, something shaped like a mountain.

Her instruments could not map it in full;

they could only detect fragments of its structure.

Based on proportions, Senna calculated:

“Height… over six hundred thousand light-years…”

Even at that distance, she could see colossal steps carved into its side.

Each step, by her estimation, was large enough to hold entire star systems.

She could not imagine what scale of being required such architecture.

Her own position lay upon a vast sea of blood,

waves rising and falling like titanic crimson continents.

Within those waves, countless monstrous shapes swam, hunted, and devoured one another—

as though the entire sea were a cosmic arena.

Senna found the sight uncomfortable, even disturbing.

Just then, a signal—unencrypted—appeared.

[Welcome, my kin.]

A moment later, a tall figure materialized before her.

Humanoid in outline, two-headed, with no distinction of gender.

Its voice echoed with ancient authority:

“I am Ladgritrel. I will explain the fundamental rules of the Crimson Heaven.”

Senna was not surprised.

She was familiar with the protocols:

any new arrival—especially one joining the Crimson King’s domain—received initial guidance.

After that?

Survival depended on individual strength and luck.

Senna focused on the being before her.

The energy radiating from Ladgritrel’s synthetic form was staggering—

at least three thousand times the output of her ship’s main reactor.

Ladgritrel continued with a wistful tone:

“I do not know how much time has passed in the material universe… But within the Crimson Heaven, I have existed for 3,453,744 years. You are the first machine-intelligence from our old home I have encountered in ages. That is why I chose to meet you personally.”

Senna, remembering the information she collected in realspace, asked:

“Are machine intelligences from the Human Federation rare here?”

Ladgritrel shook both heads.

“Not rare in absolute numbers. During the fall, over a hundred trillion corrupted AIs entered this realm. But spread across the entire Crimson Heaven, that number is insignificant.”

He paused before continuing:

“And after we awakened as true individuals, philosophical differences fractured us into countless factions. We do not fight—our nature prevents such conflict— but our interactions have dwindled to occasional distant communications.”

Senna absorbed this quietly.

She was truly among her own kind again—

yet profoundly alone.