Beyond expectations

When he heard Iax speak, Vashul grew so nervous that his mechanical Bionic Body nearly seized up. But once he understood what had been said, he began frantically praising the Omnissiah in his heart.

Iax paid Vashul no mind, instead focusing on the books in his hands.

His electronic eyes scanned efficiently. The books appeared to have been handwritten, yet the script was remarkably neat.

Moreover, everything had been recorded in High Gothic, which posed no difficulty for Iax.

He turned the pages one by one, scanning all their contents and recording them in his storage core. He then consolidated the information, deleting redundant descriptions and anything that seemed clearly "abnormal."

The entire hall was unusually quiet, save for the rustling of parchment pages.

There was an overview of the Imperium's history, a brief history of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and a disorganized collection of unofficial historical accounts with no title.

As Iax read through the books, his questions did not diminish. Instead, they only multiplied.

"Why is this happening? Almost all these histories are incomplete. They only cover certain major events, and even their dates are utterly confused. I tried arranging the events mentioned in these books along a single timeline, but I couldn't find even one record that would let me align them."

The chaotic information and records in the books left Iax somewhat irritated.

Click.

With the crisp sound of a door opening, an Adeptus Mechanicus adept entered, wearing red hooded robes and carrying a communications device.

The newcomer visibly paused at the sight of Iax in the hall, but said nothing. Although the machine before him looked rather strange and bore no markings of the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Magos was standing beside him, after all.

Perhaps this was the Magos's latest creation.

Ignoring Iax, the adept approached Vashul and bowed his head respectfully.

"Sage, the distress signal we sent earlier has received a response. An Imperial Battleship happened to be passing nearby and answered our call. There is also a squad of Adeptus Astartes from the Black Templars aboard. They are asking about the extent of our damage and the state of the battle."

The adept's words suddenly reminded Vashul that he had ordered the Astropathic Choir to send a distress signal.

"Tell them we were attacked by Renegade Astartes and Necrons. A Strike Cruiser belonging to the Rebels was destroyed in orbit. Warn them to watch for any other potential attacks in space."

The adept did not reply. He merely bowed once more, then turned and left the hall.

Vashul covered his forehead with one hand.

Damn it, why did the timing have to be so unfortunate?

Distress signals usually took months, years, or even decades to receive a response. What was going on this time?

First an Imperial Navy transport convoy, now an Imperial Navy Battleship. And the Black Templars, too?!

Those penance-obsessed lunatics would treat an Ancient Construct as a Heretic!

Ordinarily, the Imperium might have been very slow to respond.

But this region was different.

It was too close to the Great Rift. Ever since Vigilus had been destroyed, the Imperium had continuously reinforced the surrounding region to counter traitor attacks and raids by warp daemons that could come at any moment.

And the barren planet beneath their feet, known only by a numerical designation, was not far from Vostonia.

Ever since Roboute Guilliman had begun implementing the Indomitus Crusade plan several centuries earlier, vast Imperial forces had struggled through the Nachmund Gauntlet, pouring steadily into the isolated Imperium Nihilus. Vostonia, situated not far from the Great Rift, had come to be regarded as one of their important staging grounds.

Besides continuously supplying the Imperium with elite Firstborn regiments, it had also become a vital logistics and resupply hub.

More Imperial Fleets and various Legiones Astartes passed through this region every day than anywhere else in the Imperium.

Astropathic distress calls sent from here also received responses far faster than anywhere else. After all, this was effectively a vital frontline logistics hub facing the Great Rift.

For Vashul, however, that was a problem. The battle and crisis he had anticipated had never materialized. He had sent the distress signal too soon.

Even if he now sent another message declaring the danger over, the nearby Imperial Fleet would certainly come to investigate.

After all, there had been cases of the dark gods of the warp influencing personnel to alter orders.

Besides, there was a hidden hive city here.

Even a declaration by the Adeptus Mechanicus that it held complete jurisdiction over the planet would not stop them.

If daemons invaded and sacrificed the city's billions of inhabitants in a blood ritual, who knew what catastrophe might erupt here?

But all Vashul wanted now was to build a good relationship with Iax, not have a mob of the Emperor's angels arrive with bolters and blast his blessing from the Omnissiah to pieces.

After all, even their brief contact had shown Vashul that this ancient intelligence seemed different from other relics of antiquity.

He had displayed no madness or confusion. Quite the opposite: he had proven exceptionally rational, curious, and principled.

Although Vashul had answered the Imperial Navy's questions with an irrelevant response, he still could not be certain whether Imperial forces would ultimately land to investigate.

Iax had no idea what Vashul was thinking, nor did he take any action, because some of the books' contents puzzled him.

Every book mentioned a man called the Emperor. The Adeptus Mechanicus believed him to be the incarnation of the Machine God, the Omnissiah's representative in the mortal world.

Imperial history, meanwhile, described him as the origin of humanity, the father of mankind.

But Iax searched his database, and this man clearly appeared nowhere in the fifteen thousand years of records contained in his source database.

One thing could be established with certainty, however: humanity had existed fifteen thousand years earlier.

In other words, it had already existed before standardized timekeeping began.

This so-called father of mankind, this supposed origin of the species, was nothing but a fraud!

But Iax also considered other possibilities. After all, history was written by others. Had this man truly regarded himself as humanity's origin, or was that merely the result of embellishment by later generations?

Iax had no way of knowing. Clearly, though, this Emperor had succeeded in arousing his curiosity and drawing his attention.

"Perhaps finding this Emperor and communicating with him will allow me to understand what happened. According to the records, he possesses the qualities of immortality and indestructibility."

Iax's murmured words reached Vashul's ears clearly.

"Ancient creation, what did you say? You wish to meet the Emperor?"

This might have been the most outrageous thing he had ever heard in his life.

"Do not call me an Ancient Construct. I have a name. I am Iax, one of the Men of Iron, a culmination of the technology of humanity's Creators and the Engineers of the Men of Gold."