Giant Mechanical Construct

The massive force advanced in silence through the Blackstone Fortress's enormous entrance passage.

Metallic dust and the ozone smell of some unknown energy discharge hung in the air, oppressive as the stillness before a storm.

Lorgar walked at the heart of the formation. His stride was steady, but beneath his all-seeing gaze, barely perceptible emotions churned.

Ever since he had entered the ancient megastructure, a strange sensation had followed him.

His vast ocean of Psychic Energy seemed bound by invisible shackles. It no longer flowed freely or surged with its former force. Instead, it dragged through something like thick mud, and the power he could summon had noticeably diminished.

Deeper still, he sensed an indescribable pressure bearing down on him.

Fortunately, Lorgar could control his body well enough to shrug off the interference. Even with his Psychic Energy suppressed, his physical strength remained intact.

Still, the restraint put him on guard. It also strengthened his resolve to uncover the fortress's secrets.

At the front of the formation walked two commanders of markedly different styles.

Seras, Chapter Master of the Word Bearers' Third Chapter, kept watch over the darkness ahead and to either side. The scripture on his Power Armour glimmered under the helmet lights, and the muzzle of his Bolter shifted slightly with his gaze.

Isas, captain of the Dark Angels, was like a hidden blade drawn from its sheath: silent and precise. Beneath his hood, his gaze worked like an advanced Sensors, searching the surroundings for the slightest anomaly.

Each commander was surrounded by more than a dozen elite warriors from his own Legion.

"Gene-Father, do you feel..." Seras slowed slightly and turned toward Lorgar, speaking quietly. His voice carried concern for the Primarch and unease about this place.

But before he could finish...

Screech! Scrape!

A shrill rasp erupted from dark corners on every side and the tangled pipes overhead, as though countless tiny metal blades were scraping across glass.

The sound was dense and rapid. It swept closer in an instant, setting every eardrum and nerve on edge!

"Enemy contact! Prepare for battle!" Seras's question became a battle roar.

He tore the Power Sword from his waist. Its blue energy Force Field flared to life with a hum.

The Word Bearers beside him reacted at once, raising their Bolters and Power Swords almost in unison.

"Where are they?"

The Word Bearers and Dark Angels scanned their surroundings. Their superhuman senses detected something closing in, but they could not tell from which direction it would come.

Then Isas's voice, calm to the point of coldness, cut through the brief confusion and reached every receiver, especially those of his own warriors. "Activate Quietus."

The order met no hesitation.

A Dark Angel who had followed silently near the middle of the formation stepped forward, clad in heavy black Terminator Armour.

He turned his massive frame toward an apparently empty wall. His powered joints gave a faint hiss as the upper armour plates of the huge power pack on his back slid apart.

An intricate, unusual device rose silently on a mount, its blue indicator lights glowing dimly.

"It's a relic from the Dark Age of Technology," Isas said evenly.

“We recovered it from the wreck of a Dark Age of Technology research vessel. It generates a suppression Force Field on specific frequencies, disrupting and blocking the control signals of many creations from that mad era.”

As if to prove him right, a multifaceted crystal atop Quietus began spinning at high speed. It emitted a thin, piercing whine almost beyond human hearing.

Then an invisible wave of energy spread rapidly from the device, like ripples across water, stirring a faint shimmer in the air that was almost visible.

"Crackle... hissss..."

Wherever the wave passed, everything changed!

Spindle Drones had just thrust their heads or sharp cutting arms from the surrounding shadows, from behind ceiling vents, and even from seams that suddenly opened in seemingly smooth walls. Now they froze like puppets whose strings had been cut.

The red glow of their compound-eye Sensors went out. Their vibrating cutting arms locked in place, and their skin-crawling buzz stopped dead!

Then came a clattering succession of heavy objects striking the floor.

A moment ago, those deadly machines had been poised to kill. Now they dropped like scrap from their hiding places, kicking up fine dust on the cold Blackstone floor, never to move again.

In the blink of an eye, a deadly threat had been swept aside almost casually.

The passage fell silent again. Only the warriors' slightly hurried breathing and Quietus's faint, reassuring hum remained.

Seras and his Word Bearers still gripped their weapons, but the tension in their eyes gradually gave way to a mixture of shock and scrutiny.

They looked from the unassuming device to Isas and his Dark Angels, who remained as silent as ever.

Lorgar saw nothing strange about it. The Dark Angels might possess anything; their treatment was far better than that of the other Legions.

Their armouries held vast quantities of weapons from the Dark Age of Technology, ready to be deployed whenever needed.

It was fortunate the Dark Angels had come. With only his own Legion, taking this place might have demanded heavy sacrifices.

The force pressed on. Ahead lay only silence, while the Dark Angels' relic device, Quietus, continued its faint but reassuring hum.

Its invisible Force Field formed a moving safe zone. Wherever it passed, Spindle Drones lurking in the shadows and ready to strike went dark, as if their souls had been torn away. Their red eyes died, and they clattered from pipes and cracks as lifeless heaps of metal.

The force advanced in silence along a path strewn with dead machines.

Their steps echoed monotonously off the cold Blackstone floor, making the vast, uncanny emptiness around them all the more apparent.

They had traveled more than ten kilometres into the fortress. By rough mapping and their sense of direction, they should have been nearing the immense structure's central region.

The passage widened, and its vaulted ceiling rose into darkness. It felt like the hall of some forgotten god.

More complex, non-Euclidean geometric carvings appeared on the walls, radiating an ancient chill.

The faint energy fluctuations in the air grew distinct enough that the Sensors in their Power Armour registered a low background noise, warning of a high-energy environment.

At the centre of the formation, Lorgar felt the pressure on his Psychic Energy more keenly.

It was as though invisible shackles had wrapped around his soul. Drawing on even a trace of Psychic Energy took several times the effort it would have outside.

"Something's wrong..."

Lorgar sensed an anomaly and drew his weapon.

At almost the same instant, Seras and Isas raised their fists at the head of the formation, signaling everyone to stop.

They stood at the entrance to a vast space resembling an antechamber. Ahead, the passage turned sharply right. Beyond the corner seemed to lie an even larger space and an energy source more concentrated than anything within the passage.

"Something's there," Seras said over the comms, his voice low. His Bolter was already aimed at the corner.

Isas did not answer, but he tilted his hooded head as though listening.

He raised one armoured hand, signaling the Terminator Squad behind him to maintain maximum alert.

Then a low, steady hum came from beyond the corner, like a giant hydraulic pump running slowly.

Unlike Quietus's high-pitched whine, this sound was heavy and powerful. Something was moving.

Lorgar's brow tightened. His psychic senses detected a massive energy signature beyond the corner, one that radiated intense hostility.

It was not "quiet" like the drones that Quietus had disabled so easily. Its energy core pulsed powerfully and steadily, like the heart of a sleeping Behemoth.

Isas gave a tactical hand signal. Two Dark Angels in Terminator Armour moved forward, cautiously leaned around the corner, and ran a quick scan with their helmet Sensors.

A second later, they pulled back. One reported tersely, “Captain, there's a massive chamber beyond the corner. Target is an enormous construct. Quietus's Force Field has no effect on it!”

Even as he spoke, the low hum rose sharply.

Then an immense shadow moved slowly out from behind the corner, blocking most of the view ahead.

When they saw it clearly, even the battle-hardened Adeptus Astartes felt a stab of dread.

It was a giant machine built, it seemed, for war.

Its central frame was extraordinarily thick, and its height nearly reached the chamber's ceiling, almost ten metres above.

A heavy crust of dust, oil, and some unidentifiable dark residue coated its enormous body, as though it had stood dormant here for countless ages.

Most striking of all were the terrifying giant drills that took the place of ordinary arms.

Cast from a dark alloy, each drill was as wide as a Thunderhawk Gunship's fuselage. Twisted spiral ridges designed for crushing and excavation covered their surfaces. They were turning slowly now, producing a teeth-grating scrape of metal.

Atop the colossus, where its head would have been, several scarlet Sensors arrays, each the size of more than a dozen human heads, turned slowly and coldly like living eyes. At last, they focused their chilling red light together on the intruders at the corner.

They had been spotted!

"Captain Isas, it's unaffected!" The Dark Angel who had reported the sighting drew the heavy weapon from his back and aimed it at the giant drilling machine. His voice held a gravity none of them had heard from him before.

No further warning was needed. The scarlet Sensors gleamed with undisguised hostility and a drive to destroy.

“Prepare to engage!” Seras roared over the Communications Channel.

"Heavy weapons forward! Aim for its joints and Sensors!"

The Word Bearers spread out quickly, seeking cover as their Bolters and plasma weapons readied to fire.

The Dark Angels in Terminator Armour moved to the front and formed a solid line. The barrels of their Assault Cannons began to spin.

The giant drilling machine seemed to respond to their hostility. Its low hum became a deafening roar.

Its massive drills spun faster than ever, throwing up gusts that scattered the dust of ages from the floor.

Then its immense bulk bore down on them with a speed that belied its size.