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

Chapter 850 Abaddon: A Familiar Feeling

Although Lothie and his group have not yet returned to Terra, Macardo has activated the Assassin's Clan's undercover agents left behind to secretly spread news of Draconian across Mars.

The trap was designed specifically for the sage Ezekiel, so the Assassin's Court used every bit of intelligence gathered about Ezekiel to create a logical algorithm that perfectly matched him.

Although the Assassins' Court's primary duties are to assassinate enemies who pose a great threat to the Empire and to purge corrupt and derelict officials within the Empire, its scope of operations is actually quite broad.

Most of the time, the professionals in the Assassin's Court are not obsessed with fighting and killing, but rather with infiltration, surveillance, investigating the truth, and spreading public opinion when necessary.

Unlike previous missions that involved spreading false information and guiding public opinion, this time Makado's mission placed greater emphasis on secrecy and targeting.

The mission was directed at only one person: Sennet Ezekiel, a high-ranking member of both the Cult of the Machine God and the Advanced Technological Community.

The Assassin's Court, which had remained hidden amidst the political turmoil in Terra, quickly began to operate.

The Assassin Master activated the Calidus assassins, who were skilled in stealth, infiltration, and disguise, whom they had planted inside Mars.

These worshippers of the Temple of Calidus were able to use an incredible drug called "polymorphism" to alter their physical form, including appearance, body structure, and even the composition of their bodies.

It is no exaggeration to say that the Calidus assassins can disguise themselves as any living being, and even inanimate objects are within their simulation range.

When these Callidus are currently lurking on Mars, they will disguise themselves as ordinary technical priests, indistinguishable from their busy, mechanical colleagues.

Upon receiving orders from the Assassin's Court, these spies were immediately activated.

They then began to leave behind censored keywords related to Draconian in the Mars data intranet without leaving a trace.

Keywords such as "The Demise of the Empire," "Humanity's Nemesis," and "La Endymion," which only a very few people would notice, were injected into the boundless ocean of data.

The assassins of the Temple of Vanus, skilled at manipulating data and creating information viruses, went to great lengths to encrypt these censored words, as if putting a safe on the bait they had prepared.

However, only by doing so could they truly attract Ezekiel, the "shadow" lurking within the empire.

According to secret intelligence from the Assassin's Court, the two things this great sage Ezekiel liked to do most, due to his physical condition, were—searching for forbidden technologies that could prolong his life, and sifting through the data ocean on Mars for novel and interesting knowledge and ideas.

For a sage like him, only the "novelty" that can catch his eye and even activate his creative desire is attractive enough.

Ezekiel has extremely high access to the mastermind of the advanced technology community, which gives him extremely powerful data retrieval capabilities.

The Assassins' little tricks went unnoticed. They had no malicious intent whatsoever; there was no assassination, no theft of important information, and no release of dangerous data viruses. They simply added something interesting to the database.

The message in a bottle containing Draconian's message was placed in a safe and then thrown into the sea.

What followed was a long wait.

Mars forged the world, and Mareotis forged the temple.

After a century of recuperation and development, the pain caused by that Martian civil war has gradually faded.

The Lava City and the Forging Temple, which were originally destroyed or severely damaged, were gradually repaired by the Mechanicus and the Advanced Technology Community.

As one of the highest-ranking sages in the current Mechanicus, Sennet Ezekiel has taken over the Temple of Mareotis as his stronghold.

Deep within the temple, a large number of modified mechanical servants are tirelessly working in conjunction with the production line to create the mechanical and technological creations that Ezekiel needs.

The giant forging hammer crashed down with a deafening roar, and any living being that got too close would have its blood vessels boil under the force of the sound.

The air here is as thick as engine oil, filled with ozone, metallic corrosion, and a certain... indescribable, sweet, fishy smell, as if flesh and blood were slowly melting.

A giant gear slowly turned overhead, casting a twisting, swaying shadow.

Countless thick cables, like the tentacles of a living creature, hung down from the pipe-filled dome, connecting to the massive array of thinkers in the center of the workshop, composed of adamantite, obsidian, and still-pulsating brains bound in transparent containers.

The wise man Ezekiel sat at the heart of this array.

He has gotten rid of the anti-gravity chair that originally supported his body, and he no longer needs his apprentices and assistants to accompany him.

Ezekiel, who was originally teetering on the brink of the limit of his soul's lifespan, has now quietly been reborn.

Those apprentices and assistant priests who had lost their value were put to good use by Ezekiel and turned into servants and thinker computers that could continue to serve.

Ezekiel's style was completely different from Arkan Rand's. In his eyes, an existence that had lost its value was best left to be squeezed for its last bit of usefulness.

The Great Sage of Rand, on the other hand, places greater emphasis on human value and the new experiences and values ​​that technological advancements bring to humanity.

However, Ezekiel no longer has any intention of competing with Rand. He has become unusually low-key and has even left the headquarters of the Advanced Technology Community.

He preferred to stay in his dark, damp forging temple, listening to the rhythm of those crazy machines, which made him feel more at ease.

After all, the advanced technology community is, strictly speaking, "that person's" territory.

Even the Lord of the Furnace finds "that person" a major headache and considers him a formidable enemy.

Ezekiel's lower body had long since merged with the cold mechanical base, with countless glowing tubes piercing his withered torso.

His visual sensors, like two cold rubies, scanned dozens of floating light screens in front of him, constantly refreshing massive streams of data.

The mind processor is running at overclock, emitting a low hum and a hissing sound from overheating.

Ezekiel's consciousness roamed the vast ocean of data, searching for new things that could inspire him.

Suddenly, an abnormal data stream marker from the deep maintenance channel, like a pebble thrown into a stagnant pond, caused subtle ripples in his thought process.

“Abnormal data: Ancient data fragments with high entropy values ​​were found. The information structure is abnormal and it is suspected to be an early encryption format of the Great Expedition.”

A cold, mechanical, emotionless synthesized voice rang out from the Thinker behind Ezekiel.

"Extract the data, let me take a look."

Ezekiel's interest was immediately piqued; finding old knowledge was just as enjoyable as retrieval new knowledge.

After the storms of the Great Expedition and the Great Rebellion, much of the knowledge that once existed has been submerged in the long river of history, some of which contains extremely important value.

"The abnormal data is currently encrypted. Decrypt it?"

"Retrieve, isolate, and resolve with highest privileges."

With a barely perceptible sense of urgency, Ezekiel sent countless invisible data tendrils surging toward the retrieved encrypted message in a bottle.

"A very clumsy encryption operation, but it takes a lot of time."

"Oh? They even buried some ridiculous traps inside. That's interesting."

Ezekiel was like a bored gamer who, after getting a game to kill time, immediately started analyzing the strategy.

In the following days, Ezekiel was engrossed in frantic digging.

He opened the safe outside the message in the bottle layer by layer, overcoming the self-destruct program filled with logical traps.

These tasks were not particularly difficult for him, but they required him to proceed with extreme caution.

“I recalled something from a long time ago when I was just a trainee technician, full of curiosity and a desire to explore everything.”

"And now, I'm grateful that I still have curiosity and the ability to think freely."

Ezekiel mobilized all the computing power at his disposal in order to speed up the parsing process.

His analysis reached a critical moment, but as Ezekiel took the final step, the entire message in a bottle suddenly collapsed and was destroyed.

The processor overheating alarm blared sharply, and a surge of anger welled up in Ezekiel's heart.

+Unspeakable binary profanity+
Ezekiel was thoroughly enraged. He mobilized his computing power and plunged into the ocean of data, searching for similar encrypted messages in bottles.

Perhaps he was incredibly lucky; Ezekiel found a similar encrypted file.

This time, he was even more careful. After countless failed attempts at logical reconstruction, he finally opened the message in a bottle and saw the fragmented information inside.

The information and data are already incomplete, and only a small amount of residue can be seen.

But it was this very remnant that caused the core of Ezekiel's mind to roar like an overloaded engine.

“###Nion, the Empire is destroyed… Sealing order…##Plan…Deep Vault…Access: Only the one who holds the seal…”

A surge of ecstasy coursed through his cold, mechanical nerves, and he immediately severed all possible conventional communication links that could be used to track the message, ensuring its complete secrecy.

Others may not understand this information, but Ezekiel is a Machinist sage who experienced the Web Wars.

He had personally witnessed Draconion during the Web Wars, effortlessly possessing multiple Marauder-class Titans, killing the Mechanicus Sages like cutting vegetables, and tearing apart the Emperor's Custodian Army.

Even the Lord of Mankind himself was seriously injured by Draconion's attack.

If it weren't for Tribunal La Endymion using his own body as a cage to help Draconion escape into the depths of the net, this guy would probably have continued his killing spree.

Draconion's oppression of humanity is natural and unconditional.

Draconion was originally meaningless to Ezekiel, but now, thanks to his contact with Vashtor, he has gained the right to continue living.

Strictly speaking, he has betrayed the empire and fallen into chaos.

However, Ezekiel did not see it that way. He believed that he had only made a minor compromise in exchange for the opportunity to continue serving the emperor.

This is a very good deal.

But Vashtor was also constantly urging him to pay the interest needed to stay alive.

Vashtor was a man who strictly adhered to contracts, and Ezekiel had to constantly provide those who fled into the Eye of Fear with support in areas including intelligence and technology.

Ezekiel was so eager to survive that he didn't realize how much interest the contract with Vashtor required.

Everything was written in the contract, but Ezekiel did not read it carefully.

As the interest accumulated, Ezekiel became very distressed and had to help the other side even more frequently.

But now, he sees an opportunity to pay off the interest in one lump sum.

Draconian's information is worth the price.

Ezekiel left the ranks of the Thinkers and came to a secret chamber covered with a large amount of black stone.

The bizarrely shaped communication array was activated. The signal it emitted was not electromagnetic waves, but a kind of blasphemous subspace communication that pierced the veil of reality and pointed to a specific coordinate deep within the Eye of Fear.

This information was highly encrypted, mixed within the Mechanicus's unique binary language and a large amount of invalid data; its core message was only one sentence:
"The Blade of the Fallen Emperor lies hidden beneath the Golden Nest. The time is approaching, and the key is in your hands."

—Dedicated to Ezekiel, Lord of the Forge.

……

Deep within the Eye of Fear lies the Black Legion's flagship, the "Soul of Vengeance."

The bridge of this Glory Queen-class battleship, burdened with endless curses, seems to be eternally bathed in a sickly dark red light.

The air was thick and sticky, like congealed blood, mixed with the acrid smell of gunpowder, rust, decaying brass, and some deeper, more profane subspace stench. The tragic song of father and son killing each other a century ago seemed to still echo, and ghostly figures would often flicker in the ship's cabins.

Outside the enormous observation window, the subspace tides surge ceaselessly, and countless twisted, screaming souls churn within a frenzied vortex of color.

In this cursed star field, the boundary between reality and illusion has long been blurred, and planets hang like rotting sores in the filthy void.

Abaddon stood alone in the center of the bridge.

He always seemed to be wearing that oversized, jet-black Terminator armor, covered in blasphemous warp runes and spoils of war captured from powerful enemies.

He wasn't wearing a helmet. On his weathered face, etched with the furrows of hatred and ambition, a pair of unfathomable eyes raged with endless fury, yet frozen deep within was a chillingly absolute calm.

"That damned Kork orc is a complete waste."

"I went to great lengths to bring him out of the Necromancers' lair. I had hoped that the Orc Empire could invade the Sun Starfield and even spread the war to Holy Terra."

"But let alone the Solar Starfield, these idiots didn't even make it out of the Ghoul Cluster before they were annihilated by the forces sent by the Human Empire."

Using the Orcs had always been a proud move by Abaddon, but now it seems that the plan has completely failed.

What's even more frustrating is that he also has troubles to deal with within the Eye of Fear.

Although he is now the ruler of the largest black legion in the Chaos faction, that does not mean he has no enemies.

His most direct adversary was Tagus Dalavic, known as the Lord of the Army.

This powerful chaos wizard immediately demonstrated extraordinary adaptability after entering the chaos.

He commands a large number of Chaos Space Marines who are unwilling to obey Abaddon, making him a formidable and threatening force.

To unify the entire Eye of Terror and unite all the Chaos factions into one force, Daravik is the target he must eliminate.

Suddenly.

A series of footsteps, carrying the smell of burnt engine oil and the blasphemous buzzing of binary code, broke the silence of the bridge.

A hunched, enormous figure walked through the billowing smoke.

This is a Dark Mechanic priest under Abaddon's command. His body is more twisted than his Martian orthodox counterparts, with rusted metal and decaying organic tissue forcibly spliced ​​together, and dark green fluorescent liquid flowing from the exposed pipes.

“Commander.” The priest’s voice was like rusty gears grinding in gravel, carrying inhuman electronic noise.

The inhuman transformation had long since stripped him of most of his fear, but when facing Abaddon, the priest still maintained absolute respect and caution.

"The Great Lord of the Forge has a message for you. Do you wish to receive it?"

"Where did the message come from?"

Abaddon didn't even turn around completely, but merely tilted his head slightly, his icy gaze piercing the priest like a tangible blade.

An overwhelming sense of oppression suddenly descended, causing the priest's mechanically modified heart to tremble.

Vashtor and Abaddon had a close relationship. After all, Abaddon could acquire troops and slaves in many ways, but supplies were hard to come by.

Simply relying on plunder is absolutely unrealistic. Moreover, as the Empire tightens its defenses around the Eye of Terror, Abaddon's raids are becoming increasingly difficult, with the costs rising dramatically while the gains are dwindling.

Vashtor is the top arms dealer in the warp, capable of supplying most weapons and equipment, including the Demon Engine.

If you can afford the price, Vashtor is definitely the best partner.

The Lord of the Forge would never renege on a debt, whether it's his own or someone else's.

"The Forge Master said this is an important matter, and the source of the information is Mars."

The priest's body stiffened abruptly, as if under immense pressure. His exposed flesh began to twitch unnaturally, and his metal joints emitted a piercing groan.

He tried to open his mouth to call for help, but what came out was no longer his own voice, but a deeper, more intense roar, as if from the core of a furnace.

Every syllable he uttered echoed with the sound of a forging hammer striking metal:
“Azekelle Abaddon…”

When Abaddon heard the other party dare to call him by his full name, he realized that Vashtor had personally descended upon the Soul of Vengeance through this body.

He immediately turned around, realizing that he needed to treat his subordinates and partners differently.

“My person planted within the Cult of Mechanics has sent me extremely important intelligence.”

"He retrieved information about the 'destruction of the Empire' from the Empire's vast ocean of data. You should know what that means."

Vashtor's voice was filled with the heat of molten metal and the coldness of precision gears.

Abaddon's pupils contracted sharply, then turned into ecstasy in his heart.

The empire is destroyed, Draconion!
That powerful demon who tore apart the Emperor's most elite forces during the Cyber ​​Wars, and even injured the Emperor himself.

Abaddon only knew that La Endymion had led him into an unknown area deep within the Web, after which he disappeared.

So this subspace demon was sealed in the solar system?
“I’ve been searching for Draconion all along. No wonder I haven’t had any leads. It turns out it’s not even in the warp.”

Abaddon heard a faint voice, but then he sensed something extremely subtle was wrong.

Unlike other warp demons, Vashtor does not enjoy harming others with lies and deception.

However, He also values ​​fair trade the most; you get what you pay for.

"Vashtor, you told me about Draconian, do you want something from me?"

"What else do I have that you would even look at? Do you want to..."

Abaddon immediately retracted his Claw of Horus, the most precious thing he possessed that was once stained with the blood of the Emperor.

This is not only because of its immense power, but also because it was the last relic Horus left to Abaddon.

“I’m not interested in your weapons. If I were, I would definitely acquire them through other means.”

"It's just that getting Draconian is a good thing for me."

For the first time, Vashtor's voice showed a noticeable fluctuation, not anger, but fear.

"Humanity is becoming increasingly out of control. The power of faith that comes from humanity has been intercepted by a variable called Roche. I can no longer draw power from human technological progress and innovative inventions as I used to."

"Their space bridge is completely unstoppable, and once it lands, we subspace creatures are going to have a hard time."

“Loshi is my arch-rival on the road ahead. My path is too narrow for two fellow travelers.”

"As long as you can interfere with him and weaken him, it will be of the greatest benefit to me, so I will do everything I can to help you."

Abaddon nodded slightly in agreement.

Vashtor's will receded like the tide, leaving behind the almost completely drained, smoking, partially melted body of the Dark Mechanicus priest, slumped on the ground, emitting a faint, unintelligible binary wail.

However, the concerns in his heart still hadn't dissipated.

The news of Draconian's appearance is significant enough to shake up the galactic situation.

Obtaining Draconion would truly threaten the False Emperor, something Abaddon desperately needs right now. This temptation is like a beacon in the darkness, so intense it's almost suffocating.

But along with the temptation comes a profound sense of vigilance and suspicion.

Abaddon was no longer the reckless warrior he once was on the Great Crusade. Through games and battles, he had learned to be cautious and vigilant.

A trap? The thought, like a cold, venomous snake, instantly coiled around his heart.

It was too much of a coincidence. Just when he had lost the trump card of the Ghoul Orc Empire and desperately needed a huge victory to restore his prestige and suppress the increasingly unstable undercurrents within the Legion, news about Draconion came knocking on his door.

Vashtor's source of information is a traitorous Mechanicus sage from Mars, whose background is unknown. This sage's information comes from the accidental discovery of lost data.

For some reason, Abaddon suddenly thought of Peturabo's expressionless iron face.

At the time, he thought he had seen through Dorne's weakness and volunteered to launch a surprise attack to Perturabo, who was looking at him with that strange expression.

“Petulabo…” Abaddon’s lips curled into a cold and ferocious smile, as if he were chewing on the bitterness brought by the name.

The devastating defeat at Saturn's Wall completely destroyed the son of Horus, leaving Abaddon with a lasting memory of being tricked and lured into a deadly situation. It also instilled in him the deepest suspicion of any seemingly "once-in-a-lifetime" opportunity.

Abaddon could not possibly believe everything Vashtor said. If he successfully found Draconian, Vashtor might benefit from the situation; but if he failed, he would lose the strength of his Black Legion.

"It's such a difficult choice..."

"While there's a possibility that this information was leaked by the Empire, there's also a possibility that it was indeed an accident."

Abaddon closed his eyes, and Draconian's voice kept echoing in his mind.

An opportunity like this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Even if there's only a one in ten thousand chance that it's real, it's worth taking the huge risk.

The greatest opportunities are often accompanied by the greatest risks; those who are timid and hesitant will never achieve their ambitions.

The scales in the heart of the great plunderer are swaying violently.

The venomous snake of doubt and the beast of greed were tearing at each other, while Perturabo's mockery and Draconian's cold glint flashed alternately in his mind.

Ultimately, the insatiable desire for conquest and the ambition to destroy everything, deeply rooted in Abaddon's soul, outweighed the weight of doubt.

Those eyes, burning with the fire of ambition, suddenly flashed with a resolute and fierce light.

Damn it, I'm going all in this time, Abaddon is going all in again.

Over the years, he has changed a lot, but there are some qualities that he has never changed.

Abaddon never lacked the courage to fight to the death, a courage that had repeatedly saved him from seemingly insurmountable battlefields.

He slowly raised the giant hand encased in the Terminator armor, gazing at the Claw of Horus, a symbol of Horus's power. The cold, metallic claws gleamed eerily in the dark red light.

"Pass down the order." Abaddon's voice, like a cold wind blowing from the abyss, broke the deathly silence of the bridge, carrying the ruthlessness and fervor of a gambler betting everything.

"Summon all the leaders of our warbands and hold a high-level operational meeting to discuss the possibility of heading to the Solar System to seize Draconion."

“Call Vashtor back to me. I need Him to activate that hidden device on Mars and then send us to Draconion’s location.”

“Isn’t Vashtor trying to use us? Then let Him show His sincerity. We need the best demon engine, and the bill will all be on Vashtor’s head.”

Abaddon's orders were swiftly relayed to the ears of every Chaos Astartes.

Some of them were filled with doubt and suspicion, feeling that Abaddon was leading them to their doom, while others were excited and eager to return to Terra immediately to take revenge on the false emperor.

The roar of the Vengeance Soul engine seemed to become deeper and more powerful at this moment, like a giant beast that had smelled blood, gathering its strength to pounce on its prey's lair.

(End of this chapter)