Warhammer: Don't Call Me the God of All Machines

Chapter 849 We Need Abaddon
"Follow the guidance of the Emperor's Light!"

Loken's voice roared through the fleet's communication channel, filled with incredible excitement and awe.

The image of fighting alongside the Emperor involuntarily surfaced in the mind of this ancient Space Marine—the most profound and glorious period of his life.

However, when the Emperor left the front lines of the Great Crusade and handed over his power to Horus, this exhilarating feeling that ignited the soul became a thing of the past.

Horus was exceptionally brilliant, but he was ultimately not an emperor.

But now, that feeling has resurfaced. When Loken was parting the subspace storm and leading his fleet toward Terra, he clearly sensed the presence of the Lord of Man.

He knew that although the emperor sat on the golden throne, he had never truly left.

The Emperor's Light, a warship enveloped in golden light, was like a colossal vessel cleaving through raging waves, and it was the first to enter that sacred passage.

Behind it followed closely hundreds of warships of various sizes.

From battered battleships to rudimentary yet massive transport ships, like the people led by Moses, they followed closely behind with utmost piety and awe, embarking on this miraculous journey forged by faith and divine power, in search of their promised land.

The fleet sailed through the golden passage, which was not silent, but echoed with the devout prayers of millions of believers.

That was the resonance of the souls of the millions of believers who evacuated from the planet Dimanmar, as well as the souls of other faith emperors throughout the galaxy.

Their beliefs, their hopes, and their courage converged into an invisible torrent, continuously flowing into Qi Le's body, and through her, transforming into the power that sustains this sacred passage.

"The Lord of mankind is with us!"

"May the Emperor protect us!"

"Praise be to the holy Qile! Praise be to the Golden Throne!"

Prayer echoed in the corridors, decks, and cabins of every ship, converging into a soul-stirring wave.

Every mortal could see the extreme contrast between the churning, hellish storm walls outside the porthole and the warm, resolute golden light flowing through the passageway.

Fear was dispelled, despair was crushed, and only faith in the Emperor and devotion to Qile burned brightly in the hearts of every human being.

Qi Le hovered in the center of the bridge, enduring unimaginable pressure.

Her body seemed to have become a pure energy node, where the emperor's divine power and the faith of millions of believers surged, transformed, and were released within her.

Her wings of light pulsated violently, each flash affecting the stability of the entire passage.

Her eyes were tightly closed, her face holy and solemn, but a trace of barely perceptible golden blood seeped from the corner of her mouth—the price of a mortal body bearing divine power.

Qile's consciousness seemed to merge with the Emperor's Light, connect with the entire fleet, and coexist with the sacred path that was struggling through the storm.

Missionary Saul stood below Qile, gazing up at this living saint who was like a goddess, and he could clearly feel the heavy burden Qile bore.

He silently offered up his psychic power without reservation, trying to share even the slightest bit of the pressure.

The Grey Knights stood solemnly around the bridge, their power armor bathed in golden light. More than twenty beams of pure faith acted as solid pillars, supporting this core sacred place of the bridge.

Deep within the highest heavens, at the cold core of the sun, the will of the cursed seemed to let out a silent sigh, or perhaps a sigh of approval.

His light pierced through countless dimensions, shining even more steadily on the golden path, suppressing the remnants of the Black King's unwilling, angry roar deep within the storm.

Tzeentch's kaleidoscopic gaze pierced through layers of curtains, observing this breathtaking scene.

On His countless changing faces, some revealed pure appreciation, some cold calculation, and many more an irrepressible excitement.

"What a spectacular change! What...unexpected variables!"

Tzeentch's voice was like a cascade of whispers.

"Cursed One, you always manage to surprise me, but at what cost? How long can your living saint hold on? Beyond this storm, an even greater one is brewing..."

The card in its hand flipped over again, and on the card, Luo Jia's figure seemed clearer, while Alpharex/Omega's course seemed to have subtly shifted.

The fleet marched steadfastly along the golden, sacred path, where time lost its meaning in the warp—perhaps a fleeting moment, perhaps an eternity.

Finally, just as Qi Le's wings of light were becoming almost transparent and the golden flames on her body began to sway and become unstable, the storm wall in front of her suddenly thinned out!
A huge, swirling halo of light, composed of countless stars, appeared at the end of the passage.

Those were celestial bodies in the real universe, and when they saw this, it meant they had escaped the range of the subspace storm.

"We...we're out!" Judge Carter's voice trembled with relief and an indescribable excitement.

The Emperor's Light was the first to burst out of the golden, sacred passage, once again bathed in the cold yet familiar starlight of the real universe.

Immediately afterwards, one warship after another, like birds returning to their nests, leaped out of the devastating storm area.

The moment the last transport ship escaped the storm, the towering golden beam of light around Qi Le suddenly contracted, as if it had exhausted its last bit of power.

The light around her quickly dimmed, her wings turned into specks of dissipating golden dust, and she fell from her suspended state like a puppet with broken strings.

"Lord Qile!" Loken reacted quickly, stepping forward and catching the falling saint with his strong arms.

Qi Le's face was as pale as paper, and her breath was weak, but there was a relieved smile on her lips.

She succeeded.

With a mortal body, she wielded divine power, parted the subspace storm, and led the Emperor's people out of danger.

The fleet regrouped in the calm void. Many of the warships were battered and bruised, but these scars were medals for their trials and tribulations.

The Emperor's followers, who had survived the ordeal, gathered at the portholes on the warship's deck, gazing greedily at the sun in the real universe.

Countless people knelt on the ground, tears streaming down their faces, praying fervently for the emperor's protection.

Although they were already staunch believers of the Emperor before this, the war in the Dimanmar system and Qile's experience of leading them to escape the warp storm were like impurities being tempered in a fire, making them even more steadfast.

Everyone firmly believed that the Light Alliance was the one favored and chosen by the Emperor, while the corrupt Terran State Cult had strayed from its original purpose, and thus they were destroyed by the warp storm.

Behind the Light Alliance fleet, the massive subspace storm triggered by Christine's death, spanning several star systems, continued to rage and churn, like a hideous scar on the universe that had yet to heal.

No one knows when this subspace storm will subside; it could be ten years, a hundred years, or even longer.

But at the eye of the storm, in the area forcibly opened up by the Emperor's divine power and then ultimately closed up, a faint golden trail seemed to remain, silently telling the story of the epic miracle that had just occurred, a miracle worthy of being recorded in the annals of the empire.

Missionary Thor walked to the observation window on the bridge, gazing at the still raging storm behind him, now left behind, and then at the vast, boundless starry sea leading to Terra ahead of the fleet. He devoutly made the Aquila salute to his chest.

“By the Emperor’s grace,” he said in a low but firm voice, “all fleets continue toward Terra.”

……

Meanwhile, Loxi, relying on his own information channels, learned that Qile had led the Light Alliance to evacuate the Dimanmar system, which was covered by a terrifying subspace storm.

After resting in Macragge, he, along with Macardo, Waldo, and Guilliman, the three Primarchs, began to conceal their whereabouts and quietly set off back to Holy Terra.

To outsiders, they all remain in Macurag, with specially made bionic iron figures mimicking their appearance and habits to the point of being indistinguishable from the real thing.

Lohsi is trying to keep releasing smokescreens to cover up the great cause they are really going to carry out.

The Emperor's grand plan has reached its crucial final stage. They must completely eliminate the threat posed by the Dark Lord and liberate the Lord of Humanity from the Golden Throne for the second time.

"It seems that Qile has already resolved the situation on their side. The judicial forces of the Terra State Church have either been annihilated or chosen to join the Alliance of Light."

"Their pilgrimage to Holy Terra is now a smooth road, and no force can stop Qile from returning to Terra."

"A large number of new supporters will inevitably emerge in the star systems that support Qile along the way. In addition, with the defection of those from the Terra State Church, the Light Alliance's influence is gradually expanding."

"I'm really looking forward to seeing what happens when Qile faces Elfreda. Will the two popes continue their fight, or will they debate face-to-face and completely refute each other?"

Loshi shared the intelligence with Makado and the others. In fact, this warp storm had indeed exceeded Loshi's expectations.

In their vision, Qile would lead the Alliance of Light to wage all kinds of conflict against the Cult of Terra, including high-intensity warfare.

However, this confrontation will be kept within a reasonable range, at least not like a foreign war, causing serious casualties among countless civilians and severe damage to the imperial world.

"Christine's triggering of the warp storm is merely the surface of the event; the real underlying reason is that the Dark Lord sensed the threat posed by the Emperor and that his own plans had spiraled out of control."

"He is losing the chance to fully awaken, which is clearly unacceptable to the Black King."

Macado smiled and said leisurely.

"Otherwise, even if Christine's death would trigger a subspace storm, at least the subspace storm wouldn't be this intense and terrifying."

"This is clearly the work of a warp god-level being, interfering with the confrontation in the real universe in this way."

"Simply put, the Black King is getting impatient; He doesn't want Qile to return to Terra."

"The Dark Lord's power in the real universe is far less than ours. As long as we extricate ourselves from the quagmire of war with the ghoul orc empire and shift our main focus to the empire's internal affairs, the state religion under His control will inevitably fail and collapse."

“I can’t think of any other trump card He has that would allow Him to deal with Qile’s Light Alliance, as well as us Primarchs and Legions at the same time.” Guilliman’s smile was exceptionally bright.

Of all those present, he had the biggest grudge against the Terran state church and Elfreda.

Although Guilliman was not a petty or calculative person, that does not mean he had no temper.

In fact, honest people are the most vengeful. If they don't get revenge on the spot, they'll start calculating interest and wait for the right time to get it back with interest.

Guilliman has never forgotten or forgiven the insults Alfreda inflicted on him in Terra.

He also believed that his brothers and close friends would support his decision.

"My Imperial Fist was also won over by the Terran State Cult. They hoped to mobilize the Astartes Legion in the name of the God Emperor."

"But my offspring firmly rejected Elfreda's request. They are merely guardians of Terra and the solar system, and responding to the call of the state religion is not their duty or responsibility."

"That's why they haven't had an easy time in Terra, as the state religion has been targeting the Fist of the Empire."

"They even planned to use some of the stored Imperial Fist gene seeds to secretly create Space Marines for them to use."

Dorne also recounted the ordeal of the Imperial Fists, and Sigismund relayed all this information to the Primarch, awaiting his orders.

“Alfreda is taking advantage of the Imperial Fist’s absence to bully your sons,” Perturabo sneered from the side.

“How foolish this is! Astartes will always be Astartes. These mortals are just taking advantage of their weak position to jump around in front of the Guardians.”

"It's precisely because they know the Imperial Fist won't attack them, and they're unwilling to betray their duty, that they dare to act so recklessly. If it were those truly unreasonable green-skinned aliens, do you think they would still dare to do this?"

"They are just rotten to the core, not ridiculously stupid. When it comes to calculating interests, they are more shrewd than anyone else."

Upon hearing that the Imperial Fist was being harassed by the State Religion, Perturabo immediately began to speak sarcastically from the side.

Although he disliked the Astartes, who wore dung-colored power armor and were as smelly and tough as Dorne, it didn't mean he would tolerate the Imperial Fists being bullied by outsiders.

His conflict with Dorn, the Iron Warriors and the Imperial Fists, is their own private matter. Who does the State Church think it is, daring to jump out and whine and point fingers?
If he were the Imperial Commander, Peturab would have already given the State Church a taste of the eleven-kill order. Of course, that would have meant killing only one out of ten.

Because they needed to keep their whereabouts hidden, Loxi and the others returned to Terra in a very low-key manner, without making a big fuss.

Guilliman arranged for a fleet of traveling merchants to trade with Terra from Macragge, and they mingled among them, following along to Terra.

"Qi Le's massive uprising and religious pilgrimage have already attracted most of Terra's attention, allowing us to proceed with our plans more smoothly."

“Tell me your plan, Marker,” Guilliman said excitedly.

“I understand how you feel, Robert, but once we get back to Terra, we can’t immediately proceed with the original plan,” Macado replied.

“Draconion needs a suitable user, otherwise the out-of-control ‘End of the Empire’ will draw unimaginable power from the Emperor’s death and completely turn its name into reality.”

"All the supporting roles and venues for this grand show are ready, just waiting for the most important protagonist to make his appearance."

"The son of Horus, the Great Raider who proclaimed himself Warmaster of Chaos, Azeroth's Abaddon."

Macardo, however, remained calm and composed, showing no signs of anxiety despite the imminent completion of the plan.

The closer we get to the crucial moment, the more we must remain calm and not slacken our efforts or have any thoughts of speeding up the process.

Often, it is this desire to speed things up that causes a plan to ultimately fail.

“We need to convince this Chaos Warmaster that he has found an opportunity to infiltrate Terra and get Draconian, thus igniting his ambition to kill the Emperor,” Macado said.

"But that's the crux of the problem. Abaddon has been active in the Eye of Fear. He's emulating Horus of old, uniting the scattered Chaos Space Marine factions and bringing them together once again."

"Abaddon has attracted the attention of the four Chaos Gods. They greatly admire this warmaster and want to support his counterattack against the human empire."

Guilliman frowned; during his time as Commander-in-Chief of the Empire, he had often been troubled by Abaddon's Black Legion.

This is not because the Empire fears the Black Legion, but because these guys are well-versed in the essence of harassment warfare.

Using the unique environment of the Eye of Terror as their base, Abaddon's Black Legion was able to evade the Imperium's pursuit, and with the support of the Chaos Four, they also had a significant advantage when navigating the Warp.

The Empire's punitive fleet arrived, and they immediately fled into the Eye of Terror, disappearing without a trace.

When the Empire was forced to withdraw due to the corruption of the Warp, they began to harass and plunder the populations and resources of those peripheral Empire worlds.

Guilliman had no choice but to build a "space wall" near the Eye of Fear to completely keep these annoying flies out.

“There are certainly ways. A cunning fellow like Abaddon will never rashly believe the information released by the Empire. He will confirm it repeatedly before making a limited attempt to see if it works.”

Marcado stroked his beard, a sly glint in his eyes.

"But cunning people are always more willing to believe what they see, hear, and investigate."

"They always think they are smarter than others and that they are more fortunate than others, favored by the god of fate."

“As long as we can tell Abaddon the information we really want to reveal in this way, he will be eager to come over and do things the way we want.”

From Macado, Rosie could tell that this guy had definitely made thorough preparations long ago.

"Stop keeping us in suspense. You and Neos are the same; you both like to hide your big plans and true intentions, leaving others to guess and speculate," Rosie said helplessly.

"Being straightforward and honest is better for both of us."

The eyes of the one who held the seal seemed to pierce through time and space, flashing with a cold and precise calculating light, like a chess player placing a decisive piece on a game of king-killing.

"Patience, Rosie."

There is a very insightful proverb in ancient Terra: "To take, you must first give."

"If we want Abaddon to act according to our will, the most important thing is to first figure out what he wants, and then give him what he wants."

Makado's voice was deep and steady, carrying an absolute confidence of being in control of the situation.

"A cunning fox may be suspicious, but its greed and ambition are always its greatest weaknesses."

"The hunter can conceal his purpose until he arouses the prey's greed, and then strike to kill it."

"What does Abaddon desire? He desires to surpass Horus, to truly kill the Emperor, and to etch the name of Abaddon into the annals of the Warp and the Real, rather than as the son of Horus."

What could ignite his chaotic ambition more than a demonic weapon capable of truly ending an emperor, a 'Destroyer of the Empire' capable of truly destroying an empire?

He leaned forward slightly, his fingertips tapping lightly on the cold alloy tabletop, producing a rhythmic sound, as if accompanying the planning that was about to unfold.

"As for the channels..." Makado's lips curled into an almost cold smile, "We should all understand that even beneath the radiant surface of Holy Terra, there are unknown shadows."

"The war sparked by the Horus Rebellion did expose the existence of many traitors, but traitors are never completely eradicated. There is an information channel within the Empire that leads to the Eye of Terror."

"This information channel is highly confidential, so much so that only a very few people know about it."

“That one… Sage Sennet Ezekiel.”

The name, like a stone thrown into a stagnant pool, stirred up silent ripples in the air of the bridge.

Guilliman and Dorn's expressions instantly turned serious, their auras dropping to freezing point.

Who is Ezekiel?
He was a great sage of the advanced technological community and held an extremely high position within the Cult of Mechanics.

He possessed countless secrets about the empire's core technologies, and he was even the emperor's trusted assistant.

He became the second director of the Imperial Biotechnology Department after Ms. Astartes' disappearance.

Based on the work of Lady Astartes, Ezekiel successfully developed a mature version of the black carapace organ.

The empire today can hardly find anyone with more seniority than this great sage Ezekiel.

Keep in mind that Ezekiel was already an outstanding technical priest when the progenitor was still in the culture chamber.

"The eyes of the Assassins' Court have never truly closed, Robert."

"The blade I created to eliminate corruption within the Empire has been operating in secret all along, and although I have left the Empire, I still maintain access to the Assassin's Court."

Macardo answered the question that Guilliman had in his eyes.

"Humanity's enemies have never been just the four Chaos Gods. How could we possibly ignore the existence of warp arms dealers like Vashtor, the Forge Master, who has always been active?"

"With the advanced technological community created by Loshi, the deadlock of the Mechanicus's unsustainable demise has been broken, and humanity's technological strength is seeing a new leap forward for the first time since the Dark Ages."

"This must mean that the power of the Forge Master has begun to permeate reality and entice the souls of those Mechanicus sages who crave immortality."

"The Assassin's Court monitored the vast majority of the advanced technological communities and the high-ranking members of the Mechanicus. Ezekiel was just the most 'successful' and the most greedy of them all."

Guilliman was also secretly alarmed by Macardo's cunning and shrewdness. He had originally thought that after a century of management, he had completely mastered the Assassin's Court.

But clearly, the one who holds the seal is more skilled.

“Ezekiel is really very ancient. He has reached the limits of human life. Even more life-extending surgeries and cybernetic modifications have failed.”

"But Ezekiel is still alive, which is very intriguing."

Makado's answer left everyone speechless; it turns out that living too long can actually arouse suspicion.

"He betrayed Imperial secrets with great secrecy, transferring knowledge of the advanced technological community to the Dark Mechanicus... all for the sake of the immortality promised by Vashtor."

"He thought he was making a deal with the devil, in exchange for eternity beyond mortal body."

Peturabo's voice carried a cold, metallic edge, and a hint of barely perceptible disgust.

Peturabo is the kind of person who is born with knowledge; he is a genius, although his emotional intelligence is sometimes very lacking. He despises fools, but he hates even more a genius who becomes stupid.

“Foolish! Vashtor will only turn him into a puppet bound by steel and furnace.”

"It's always the same when you're dealing with the warp; you do get what you want, but never in the form you want."

“Those who thirst for courage become slaves to slaughter, those who pray for immortality live forever in the putrid slurry, those who pursue wisdom are fooled by wisdom, and those who indulge in pleasure grow increasingly empty in their indulgence.”

“That’s right, your insight is indeed very reasonable, Peturabo. I hope you can always remember it yourself, and not just use it to criticize others.” Macado nodded. “But this folly and greed are invaluable to us at this moment.”

“Abaddon’s Black Legion operates deep within the Eye of Fear, and he must have some connection with the Dark Mechanicus who worship Vashtor.”

"And Ezekiel was that lifeline that connected the two ends, which he thought was a secret."

“Once Ezekiel finds out, Vashtor will surely find out, and then Abaddon will find out from the Dark Mechanicus.”

The Seal Master's plan was chillingly clear:
“We need to let Ezekiel accidentally discover a shocking secret—Draconion, the legendary sword that can kill the lord of mankind, is not lost in some distant lost world.”

"Draconion is in the solar system, in some hidden but accessible place."

"It can be on Terra, on Mars, or on any insignificant asteroid."

"This news must be enticing enough, credible enough, and make him believe that it is a top secret he has unearthed on his own, a crucial bargaining chip he is offering to Vashtor in exchange for more favors."

Loshi instantly understood Makado's intention: "You want to use a carefully prepared bait, through a traitor, to personally deliver it to the mouth of the Great Raider?"

"exactly."

Makado's smile carried a cold elegance.

"We will let the ghosts of the Assassin's Court inadvertently leave behind some precious but fragmented clues in the ancient data graveyard that the Sage of Westgear often wanders and excavates."

"These fragments point to an erased historical record, suggesting that Draconion was secretly transported back to the solar system and sealed away after being taken by La Endymion in the early days of the Empire."

The clues needed to be sufficiently vague, requiring Ezekiel to use all his authority and wisdom to piece them together and decipher them.

"When he painstakingly and independently arrives at this conclusion, he will be even more convinced of it."

And to please his demonic master, and more importantly, to prove his worth, he would certainly pass this earth-shattering discovery to Abaddon's ears through his secret communication channels with the Dark Mechanicus.

Guilliman took a deep breath, his eyes flashing with a complex light—admiration for Macardo's shrewd planning, and a cold acceptance of the impending use of a traitor to achieve his goal.

“Abaddon won’t completely believe it… but he can’t resist the temptation. He will test it, he will probe, but he will come in the end. For Draconian, for the unfinished work of Horus!”

"He will come."

Roche's tone was resolute, as if he were stating a predetermined future.

"Abaddon will surely bring the most elite forces he can muster, with a do-or-die determination."

Because he knew this was his only chance, and when he unleashed bloodshed on Terra, brandishing Draconian and aiming for the throne, that would be the moment the Emperor broke free of his shackles and the flame of humanity was rekindled!

(End of this chapter)