A Brand New Technology

The vast council chamber now held only Guilliman and Cawl; everyone else had filed out.

As a Tech-Priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus, Cawl—with his mechanical frame—stood eye to eye with the Primarch Guilliman in height.

Over the ten millennia, Cawl had undergone countless rounds of technological modification, leaving little flesh and blood on his body.

His back bore a massive metal shell-like construct, atop which stood a field generator, along with several active mechanical arms and a few floating metal skulls tethered by neural cables.

Beyond those, high-energy weapons collected from across the galaxy were embedded there, linked to his brain and spine.

His lower body had also been fully reshaped into machinery; every step produced a mechanical hum and the back-and-forth sound of pistons.

A glow emanated from Cawl's chest—clearly, this madman had stuffed a nuclear fusion reactor into his torso to power his myriad weapons.

Even though this wasn't his first close encounter with someone from the Adeptus Mechanicus, Guilliman still marveled at the design.

Truly, they had put into practice that saying: flesh is weak, but Machine Ascension is eternal.

The Adeptus Mechanicus really had it out for women—they had abandoned them entirely.

"Cawl, come before me," Guilliman said, his tone remarkably gentle.

Cawl was the key to his own resurrection and one of the most trustworthy people he had at present.

At least for now, Cawl would not betray him.

A single promise had driven him to wander for over ten thousand years, roaming the star systems for the sake of Guilliman's revival.

Searching for technologies lost to the river of history, buried in ancient ruins.

If someone like that couldn't be trusted, then what loyalty was left in this world?

Of course, in this damned universe, anything could change with time, and Guilliman had to be prepared for the possibility that everyone might betray him.

"Regent, what are your orders?" Cawl stepped forward, his heavy metal body leaving marks on the marble floor. His eyes gleamed with mechanical light; if you stared into them, you could faintly see the turning of gears.

The Tech-Priest's eyes were no longer mere flesh but electronic eyes—a blend of machine and tissue—equipped with multiple scanning functions.

Guilliman paused for a moment, then produced a data storage device. "Everything in this storage device is knowledge I secretly gathered ten thousand years ago. This knowledge will help us build a brand-new army—one that can help us regain the initiative in the galaxy."

The contents of the data storage were, of course, not knowledge from ten thousand years ago.

They were things Guilliman had compiled from the Database.

Claiming it was ten-thousand-year-old knowledge was simply a convenient excuse to fend off any future obstacles from the Adeptus Mechanicus.

If they didn't believe him, they could go back ten thousand years to verify it.

What, you can't verify it?!

That's not my problem—this is definitely ten-thousand-year-old technology.

Bypassing the Adeptus Mechanicus to forge an entirely new force was also one of the key reasons Guilliman had chosen to stay in the 500 Worlds of Ultramar.

As the Empire's crucial ally and the primary supplier of mechanical equipment, the Adeptus Mechanicus had grown increasingly insular and rigid over the past ten millennia. From testing a new product to setting up a production line took centuries.

Guilliman didn't have that kind of time to wait for the Mechanicus to validate the technology he provided.

By the time they finished their verification, the Empire would already be finished, and he'd likely be a plaything of the Chaos Gods.

So he might as well stay in Ultramar—his home base, where the Mechanicus's influence wasn't so overwhelming.

With the support of Calgar, Celestine, and others, he had more room to maneuver, using the power of the 500 Worlds to rapidly build a strong, new army.

That powerful army would be the force to pull the Empire back from the abyss.

Given the Empire's current tangled situation, this was Guilliman's best option.

The Empire was too vast, with countless interwoven and interdependent factions.

The High Lords on Terra, the Planetary Governors across the systems, the noble classes of every world, the Astra Militarum, the Imperial Navy, the Adeptus Custodes, the Inquisition, other Space Marine Chapters—all of these factions were locked in fierce internal struggles.

On the other side, the Adeptus Mechanicus considered themselves allies of the Empire, with a strong tendency to listen to orders but not obey them.

The infamous Beast Wars had screwed things over several times, nearly leading to the Empire being overrun by Orks.

Beyond that, there was the Ecclesiarchy—another massive pitfall. Power struggles there were equally severe, and they had launched so-called Crusades multiple times, each time throwing over a dozen Chapters into the Eye of Terror, essentially gifting Chaos a grand package.

Those Chapters sent into the Eye of Terror were mostly loyal, but because of the Ecclesiarchy's suspicions, they were forced to their deaths, eventually becoming minions of the Chaos Gods.

To maintain the Empire's rule, successive rulers had kept patching things up.

Now the entire Empire was covered in patches—ugly and bloated.

The Empire was terminally ill; patching it up wouldn't save it. Only a thorough reform, a drastic blood transfusion, could breathe new life into it.

And the prerequisite for all of that was that he absolutely had to have an overwhelmingly powerful army.

Cawl looked at the data storage device Guilliman had handed him, a puzzled expression on his face. He didn't believe Guilliman possessed any remarkable technology.

Out of respect for the Primarch, however, Cawl still accepted the device and inserted it into the data port behind his head.

The data from the storage surged into his processor, and his once-perplexed face lit up with ecstatic joy.

This was knowledge he had never encountered before.

It contained blueprints for genetic modification and the construction of new warships.

Upon seeing the design schematics for the Death Star, a flush of excitement crept across Cawl's face.

This is!!

This is a world-ending weapon!!

This vessel called the Death Star is absolutely not a technology under the Adeptus Mechanicus's control.

The Adeptus Mechanicus of today has lost much knowledge, and worse still, that knowledge is irreplicable.

Once lost, it means the Imperium has permanently forfeited that technology.

Most of the Adeptus Mechanicus's technology is not obtained through research and development, but by excavating STC Templates.

In other words, their so-called technology relies entirely on archaeology. Innovation does exist, but those innovations are minor tinkering built upon STC Template technology, never touching the fundamentals. If too many modifications are made, one can easily be suspected of blaspheming the Omnissiah by the Adeptus Mechanicus and subsequently executed.

"None of these technologies have STC Templates?" After reading through the information, Tech-Priest Cawl looked up at Guilliman.

"No, these were all obtained through ten thousand years of learning." Guilliman did not hide the truth and spoke frankly.

If a technology has no source from an STC Template, the Adeptus Mechanicus absolutely forbids its application.

Otherwise, they would wage war on the industrial worlds using that technology in the name of blasphemy against the Omnissiah, annihilating them and preventing the application of those technologies.

Guilliman looked at Tech-Priest Cawl. If he remembered correctly, Cawl was a Radical, what they called a Reformist.

Nowadays, another voice had emerged within the Adeptus Mechanicus: to no longer blindly follow ancient dogmas, but to carry out reformative innovations on various technologies, thereby strengthening the Imperium's power.

The Conservative Faction stubbornly believed the Radicals were traitors, defiling the glory of the Omnissiah, and the conflict between the two sides was quite fierce.

"Then what do you need me to do, Regent?"

Hearing this, Guilliman revealed a slight smile. As he understood, Cawl was not one of those Conservatives from the Solar System.

When it came to technology, he did not care whether it originated from an STC Template.

"I need a brand new army, from warships to individual soldier equipment, all requiring an upgrade to ensure we can overwhelmingly crush the traitors of Chaos and the xenos when we face them. I will grant you the authority to mobilize all the industrial worlds of the Five Hundred Worlds, ordering them to cooperate with you. Cawl, give me a confident answer. Tell me you can handle this with ease. After I finish cleansing the remaining Chaos forces from the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar, I will be able to obtain an army to open the path for me to Terra."

"I will fulfill your commission, Regent, and do my utmost to re-equip your army." Cawl bowed slightly in salute, his mechanical body emitting the unique metallic clatter of machinery with the movement.

"Good. Remember, this Thought Seal technology needs to be developed as a priority, and it must be kept strictly confidential. No related information is to be leaked." Guilliman said in a low voice.

"Understood, Regent."

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