Interstellar Message

As Alvin racked his brain, trying to figure out how to fool them.

A Tech-Priest named Aruman suddenly frowned, his modified optical lenses flashing crimson as he fixed them on Alvin. "Wait, what did you say your name was just now?"

Alvin was a bit confused but happy to change the subject. "My name is Alvin, esteemed Priest Vera."

"No, I asked for your surname!"

Aruman, his temper flaring, impatiently said, "Don't make me ask twice, kid. What's your full name?"

"Uh, Alvin Varshius." Alvin's mouth twitched as he silently grumbled, Would it kill you to be clearer?

Aruman, clearly unable to guess his thoughts, furrowed his brow upon hearing the name, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Varshius. Who is your father?"

"I don't know."

Alvin shook his head, feigning ignorance. "I haven't seen my father since I was born."

"And your mother? What was her profession? What was her name?" Aruman's questions made Alvin feel like he was being interrogated, causing him slight discomfort.

Alvin glanced at Tark, seemingly seeking his opinion.

"Priest Aruman isn't exactly a good person, but he's definitely not malicious."

Tark nodded slightly and looked at Aruman beside him, explaining to Alvin, "We served in the same legion. He's absolutely trustworthy, just a bit eccentric and short-tempered."

"Alright, although I don't understand why you're asking about my mother."

Alvin paused, reorganizing his thoughts. "But since Mr. Tark believes you are trustworthy, I trust you as well."

"My mother's name was Celica Portuponga, and she was a worker in the Mid-hive."

"I don't know who my father is, but according to my mother, they met by chance. After a night of pleasure, my mother became pregnant. Later, she was driven down to the Underhive due to debt, and soon after, my mother died of hunger and illness when I was six."

"As for my father, I'm sorry, I've never met him. He's probably dead in the Underhive, or perhaps the Mid-hive."

Alvin gave a brief description, then looked at the deeply thoughtful Aruman and shrugged. "That's all. Priest Vera, do you have any more questions?"

"No, none. Thank you for your cooperation."

Aruman gave him a deep look, then turned to Tark. "I have an idea, we might be able to contact an Inquisitor, but it will take some time."

"How much time?"

Tark asked with a frown, "Those Cult scum have already started their sacrificial ritual. We're running out of time."

"Hounding me won't help, Tark." Aruman stood up calmly, dusting off his rusty red robes. "Unless you can close that damned Warp rift, then shut your mouth!"

"One last thing."

Tark quickly grabbed Aruman, who was about to leave, and said with a fawning smile, "This kid is being chased by Cult Psychics. Take him in for a while."

He thought he would have to offer some incentive, as Aruman usually did, but this time the situation was beyond Tark's expectations.

Aruman readily agreed. "Sure, no problem."

"That easy?"

Tark was suspicious, scrutinizing Aruman with a look of curiosity, as if seeing a stranger. "That's not like you. You used to extort me to death!"

"What, not used to it?" Aruman sneered, extending his hand. "Fine, as usual, 500 Krone per month. Pay up."

"Hiss, is there something wrong with my ears again?"

Tark immediately played dumb, patting his ear and turning to walk outside, muttering to himself, "Ah, I'm getting old. I don't even remember who I lost my hearing saving."

Visible veins formed a cross on Aruman's forehead. "Get out! Just get out!"

Tark chuckled, quickly walked over to Alvin, and lowered his voice, speaking seriously. "Kid, behave yourself these few days. Don't cause any trouble."

"Don't worry, Mr. Tark, I understand." Alvin nodded, then curiously asked, "Mr. Tark, are you going back?"

"Of course, I have to go back and monitor the Cult's movements." Tark cursed under his breath and warned, "Aruman has a weird temper. Try not to provoke him, understand?"

From the Astra Militarum Veteran's words, Alvin felt a hint of concern and was touched. "Thank you, Mr. Tark. Please be careful."

Tark waved his hand, said no more, and strode out of the sanctuary.

Tech-Priest Aruman completely ignored him and went straight back to a room by the side door, doing who knows what.

Alvin, with nothing to do, finally had some free time.

"Nachmund..."

Good. Bah! What good news? It's all bad news!

Alvin slumped to the ground, his mind filled with the Nachmund Gauntlet and the upcoming Nachmund Campaign!

Thanks to Tark, he finally had some understanding of the current timeline.

M41.999, the great Warmaster Abaddon, piloting the Blackstone Fortress, shattered Planet Cadia. The resulting explosion tore through reality, allowing the power of the Warp to surge into the galaxy, forming a scar-like "curse" in the hazy star systems north of the Imperium!

Unrestrained Warp tides surged through the galaxy, unleashing the malice of the Chaos Gods!

Nearly a third of the Imperium's territory was completely cut off into the dark.

The Nachmund Gauntlet was the only relatively safe passage to the dark regions isolated by that cursed scar!

If nothing unexpected happens, it will be very soon. The Nachmund Gauntlet will become a crucial choke point for the Empire and Chaos to fight over, with both sides throwing in troops at any cost, enough to blow each other's brains out!

To be fair, Alvin has some faith, but definitely not much.

Dying for the Empire? Absolutely impossible.

Stop the war in the Nachmund Gauntlet? Don't be ridiculous, that's a complete joke!

As things stand, the only way out for Alvin is to find a ship as soon as possible, right now, immediately, and get to another star system, as far away from the Nachmund Gauntlet as possible!

He lowered his head and glanced at his wrist. The Navigator System was still exploring new worlds.

"Looks like I'll likely be staying in the Mid-hive for a while."

Aruman returned to his private workshop, which was filled with many mechanical creations.

After sitting in a chair and thinking for a moment, he summoned a Servitor Skull and input a message.

Soon, the query results appeared on the screen. Aruman looked at the not-so-long message, his eyes shifting from initial calmness to slight emotion.

"Alvin Valerius, if my guess is correct."

Aruman's eyes flickered, and he muttered to himself meaningfully, "It seems necessary to use that thing."

This Tech-Priest walked directly to a wall in the workshop. After an iris scan, the wall suddenly rotated, revealing a path to a secret room.

Aruman strode into the secret room. This was his important "fortune" accumulated over the years.

The reason it couldn't be shown was simple: inside... were "xeno-creations" in the general sense of the Empire!

Aruman approached a severed and modified skull, placing his palm on it. Psykana power slowly emanated, and his consciousness instantly sank into the Warp. He wove the words in his mind into a message, and under the effect of Psykana, it was like a carrier pigeon, crossing numerous obstacles.

This "email" would cross star systems.

If things went smoothly, he would receive a reply in a few days.

However, after a moment of thought, Aruman used another device to dial a contact on another planet within this star system.

"I am Aruman Vella, an Adeptus Mechanicus Tech-Priest."

His voice was low, hoarse, and carried a unique rhythm as he slowly said, "I know you are currently in your assessment phase and must desperately need a meritorious deed to prove yourself to your teacher, right? Inquisitor Winnie Winslet!"

Only two days left before this is released, esteemed lords, please don't put it on hold~ If you keep putting off new books, they'll die~ Please help me get more reads, I beg you~