Chapter 19: The Emperor? When Did He Arrive?

“Serving you is the sacred mission bestowed upon me by the Om Messiah.”

Within the Mechanicus, a significant number of adherents believe the Emperor to be the Om Messiah incarnate, and thus, an Astartes—one of the Emperor’s creations—is regarded as a holy and inviolable being, especially in the eyes of the Mechanicus members, particularly the Tech-Priests.

This is the Emperor’s creation, the pinnacle of genetic engineering fused with the divine power of the Om Messiah.

Of course, this reverence does not prevent them from occasionally indulging their imagination when cultivating gene seeds.

Although this Tech-Priest was not among them, he maintained the expected reverence, especially when facing an Astartes of extraordinary stature who could instantly kill a Chaos Terminator in one-on-one combat.

Since that ultimate warrior had agreed to cover the materials for his surgery, to refuse would be tantamount to courting death.

Did he want to die?

Certainly not.

So, with extraordinary reflexes, he accepted the stepping stone Romulus offered, respectfully performed the cogwheel salute to the two Angels, and obediently brought his Tech-Priests to the surgical table blessed by the Sisters.

The Tech-Priest then ordered the soldiers guarding the prosthetic warehouse to open the compartments storing the replacement limbs, eager to witness the exquisite craftsmanship from other Forge Worlds.

He then fell into deep contemplation over the replacement prosthetic materials.

This model, this quality, and this precision...

Watching the Sisters continue to inscribe purity seals on the surfaces of the prosthetics, the Tech-Priest suppressed his urge to stop these foolish zealots from damaging the perfect structures.

The quantity was overwhelming.

He could even fashion a retinue of serfs into a crusading force rivaling an entire Astra Militarum regiment with these prosthetics.

Did Forge World Ryza produce this many prosthetics?

Casually picking up a set of steel-stamped respiratory system prosthetics, the Tech-Priest began the operation under the horrified gaze of the Astra Militarum, his electronic eyes brimming with countless questions fixed intently on the warehouse’s prosthetics. His limbs moved fluidly and deftly, as if rehearsed countless times.

In less than thirty seconds, the Astra Militarum soldier was bewildered as the Sisters helped him down from the operating table.

No need for surprise—the mechanical arms of these Tech-Priests were capable of atomic-level precision; for them, such surgeries were simply matters of excision and connection.

“He seems very skilled,” Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s because it’s all been scavenged off him, oh, and from his little stash,” Romulus replied earnestly.

---

Garner, to ensure every prosthetic part was available, had also swept through the gearboys’ inventory.

If they hadn’t deliberately altered the production codes, this Tech-Priest might have had a crisis of faith.

“Apologies,” Arthur said to Romulus, “I acted on my own accord.”

“Nonsense. You must understand that we now lack men, not equipment. These Astra Militarum troops are precious combat assets—whether to assist in future conflicts or to leverage military strength in negotiations with allies... uh, how can ‘saving lives’ sound so utilitarian?” Romulus slapped his forehead in frustration.

“In any case, saving lives can’t be wrong.”

Arthur was determined; he had a plan, especially since no one could come up with a better excuse at the moment.

After all, in an empire so steeped in religious fervor and death worship, you can’t just say, “It’s too tragic for you to die like this; we want you alive, so live.”

If said out loud, those Astra Militarum troops might as well commit suicide on the spot.

Arthur’s approach offered a graceful compromise: he gave them a way out, boosted morale, and provided a fitting method to integrate these troops.

After all, no loyal servant of the Empire would refuse the honor of marching to death alongside an Astartes.

“But to be honest, I’m not optimistic about their future,” Arthur said as he watched the soldiers reborn through prosthetics.

Pleasantries aside, problems still demanded solutions.

“If we cannot cure the influence of the Warp on their souls, corruption under Chaos is inevitable.”

Aside from the rare instances where the Four Gods do not directly intervene, Chaos corruption is not always violent but more of an omnipresent whisper.

Strong-willed individuals might resist corruption for a time, but persistent whispers and sensory psychological suggestions wear them down until they naturally succumb.

Even elite units like the Voskani Heavy Infantry, who fought Chaos for a long time, were eventually corrupted and betrayed, assassinating the Castellan of Cadia during a joint parade.

“In the end, as I said before, dying on the battlefield is the best outcome for them.”

“Indeed,” Romulus nodded gravely.

“The methods this world has to resist the Warp’s influence are too harsh.”

Death, especially death in battle, is a sorrowful fate for those who have traversed worlds.

---

It’s hard to imagine that among the thousands still alive aboard this ship, no more than a handful will die a natural death.

And death is only the beginning.

Unlike the Space Marines, who, by remaining loyal and pure, can ascend to the Golden Throne upon death, most mortals like the Astra Militarum have their souls cast directly into the Warp after death.

If lucky, the Emperor senses you and rescues your soul; moderately lucky, you wander in ignorance before dissipating naturally; unlucky, you become demon fodder.

Given the current state of the Warp, souls entering it nakedly are likely very unlucky.

After all, there is only one Emperor, but four Warp Gods.

The hands of the Four Gods are always rummaging through your pockets; retaining even a fraction of your soul unplundered is considered a feat.

Arthur pondered, recalling theoretical methods to resist Warp influence.

The Star Gods—physical manifestations of the laws of physics—create extremely stable reality barriers around themselves, isolating Warp influence.

However, these Star Gods are about as formidable as the Four Gods; unless someone emerges like the Yellow Old Man, indistinguishable between man and god, they are essentially negligible.

Secondly, the three methods of the Spirit Folk.

The Dark Spirits survive by consuming the spiritual energy of other races, using arcane technology to avoid total death.

The Ark Spirits protect their souls with soulstones; after death, they enter eternal loops constructed by spirit bones in the Ark Worlds.

The Wild Spirits inhabit planets with world souls and merge directly with the world soul upon death.

Of course, the simplest way is for the Emperor to notice you before the Four Gods snatch you up—and for you to be worthy enough to warrant his effort to save you.

In short, there are many methods, but all are somewhat exacting.

“Emperor above!”

A shout interrupted Arthur’s thoughts.

Light!

Arthur turned and saw the Astra Militarum glowing with a sacred golden radiance.

The Emperor? When did He arrive?