Warhammer 40,000 Reactions: Imperium

M42.200. The galaxy shuddered. The Great Rift blazed with crimson madness, but even its terror retreated in the face of the inexplicable. At the same instant, defying the laws of physics, psychic shields, and kilometers of adamantium, Screens appeared across the Imperium. Absolutely smooth, indestructible black screens hung in the air. In the throne room of Terra, on the bridge of Roboute Guilliman's flagship, in the gloomy chambers of the Inquisition, and in the filthiest depths of the underhives—everywhere, living beings froze in holy awe and paranoid fear.

The weapons are off safety. Tech-priests frantically chant the Omnissiah's psalms, trying to scan the anomaly, but the auspexes return only a dead zero. Psykers convulse, but they hear no echo of the Warp in these screens. This isn't chaos sorcery or xenotech. This is something else.

Suddenly, the silent surface of the Screens comes to life. A soft, alien flash of light sweeps across it, and the static darkness gives way to the first frames of the broadcast. Before the eyes of stern warriors, fanatical inquisitors, and tormented citizens of a distant and grim future, chronicles of completely alien, unknown worlds begin to unfold. Worlds where there is no place for the Emperor's light, but where their own battles, laws, and destinies rage, incomprehensible to the Imperium...

The characters froze. Trillions of eyes were glued to their screens. The air rang with tension. Is this a sophisticated mental weapon of the enemy, a test of faith, or the greatest sign? The broadcast began.