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

Chapter 857 Abaddon: Slay the False Emperor, Now Is the Time!
"Open it."

Abaddon's voice was resolute, carrying an undeniable and absolute authority.

"I want to see with my own eyes...what's behind the door."

“As a sage of Mars, you are more qualified than any of us to open this door.”

The reason why the Great Raider has been able to remain invincible in the Eye of Fear is not only because of his great strength, but also, most importantly, because of his caution and prudence.

He has seen too many cases where things started off smoothly but were ruined at the last step. The closer you get to the end, the more careful you need to be.

Without figuring out what was behind that door, Abaddon wouldn't dare pull Draconian off the Bloodlust.

"Yes...yes, Commander..."

"as you wish."

Ezekiel's electronic voice emitted a dry, grating sound, and his massive metal body trembled slightly as he was torn apart by intense inner conflict.

On Mars, he is a supreme sage whose authority is unmatched by anyone except a select few.

But compared to these Chaos Space Marines of the Black Legion, he was nothing more than an incredibly weak grease-grubber.

The weapons hidden beneath his highly mechanized body might be able to deal with a few Chaos Space Marines, but they would only lead to certain death in the face of Abaddon, the god of death.

More importantly, these guys have dirt on him and evidence of his deal with Vashtor. If they expose this, he will have no choice but to flee to the Eye of Fear.

Ezekiel didn't want to go to the Eye of Fear. Unlike those fools in the Dark Mechanicus, he knew better than anyone that the Advanced Technological Community was the cradle of the most advanced technology.

If he escaped to the Eye of Fear, he would have ended up in a desert of research, which would have been worse than death.

Ezekiel felt bitter. From the moment he chose to make a deal with Vashtor in order to prolong his life, he had no other choice.

He had no choice but to follow the path of no return, obey Vashtor's will, and help Abaddon seize Draconion.

Ezekiel didn't even need his complex sensors; he could sense the danger behind this unknown door simply through intuition.

Since the Empire has hidden Draconian here, it must be because this place is safe enough. There might be some monstrous thing hiding behind the door, just waiting for an opportunity to slaughter these intruders.

But what could that be?
Is it a terrifying technological relic left over from the Dark Ages, or some kind of pre-set psionic trap, or perhaps a top-level early warning device that would send the Empire's army swarming out at the slightest touch?

Ezekiel slowly approached and tried to touch the door with his mechanical arm.

To his surprise, the door seemed to have no weight at all, and could be pushed inwards with a gentle push.

The door opened.

Nothing happens.

The anticipated devastating torrent and deadly traps did not materialize.

Behind the door lay a deeper, purer darkness, as if even the light itself had been swallowed up.

Ezekiel stood there, stunned, his mind processor frantically processing the current situation.

Shall we go in and take a look?

As Ezekiel's fear of the unknown gradually subsided, his curiosity to explore began to take over.

If there are any unknown, hidden places on Mars, then there is a high probability that they contain some valuable technology or important secrets.

Ezekiel, having thought of this, immediately made up his mind. He stepped halfway through the door and immediately felt a strange sensation he had never experienced before.

A cold, vast, and incomprehensible torrent of will, like the heartbeat of the universe itself, crashed into the core of Ezekiel's mind.

The mechanical constructs on his body that used Vastor's blasphemous technology—the twisted pipes, the shimmering green crystals, the mutated servo systems—began to disintegrate and reshape the instant he entered the door.

The machine was reassembled into something Ezekiel couldn't comprehend; a strange consciousness flowed through the metal, and incredible echoes reverberated in Ezekiel's mind.

Those were extremely fragmented, yet incredibly exquisite and profound pieces of knowledge. Even through just a glimpse, the great sage could perceive a knowledge density far exceeding his own imagination.

He saw...the truth.

That was the primordial light produced by the singularity explosion, the perfect structure of intertwined spacetime dimensions, the eternal cycle of star birth and death, and the balance of matter annihilation and energy transformation.

An unimaginable deluge of information overwhelmed the Great Sage's mental processing, almost instantly shattering his data firewall and burning the neurons responsible for thinking to ashes.

Fortunately, Ezekiel was one of the most senior sages. Before his own consciousness was completely destroyed, he forcibly severed all external sensory interfaces and sealed himself in the core processor of the internal local area network.

Meanwhile, a backup thinking unit was activated immediately, maintaining basic logical operations and action capabilities at minimal power.

"By the God of All Machines..."

Ezekiel's voice trembled, filled with the fear of surviving a catastrophe and... an indescribable, almost pilgrimage-like epiphany.

"here it is……"

Ezekiel's trembling voice slowly rose, and he knew what was imprisoned behind this door.

"This is the true sanctuary of the god of all machines."

"The truth we seek, the embodiment of the universe's rules, is actually... located beneath Mars!"

"Why, why, who imprisoned Him?!"

Ezekiel's initial fear was replaced by overwhelming anger and the excruciating pain of his faith collapsing.

Within the belief system of the Mechanicus, the descriptions of the God of Machines and Om Messiah have always been rather vague.

Often, tech priests conflate the two, treating them as a single entity.

But in reality, the God of Machines is the God of Machines, and Om Messiah, strictly speaking, is the God of Machines' prophet and apostle walking among humans.

However, compared to Om Messiah, who once revealed his true form, few people know the true face of the god of all machines.

Many people even believe that the God of All Machines is merely an ideal existence and does not exist in reality.

Before the start of the Great Crusade, the Emperor, the ruler of mankind, led his fleet to Mars and displayed the miraculous power of the Om Messiah. Countless followers of the Mechanicus also acknowledged that he was the Om Messiah.

Ezekiel was the same; he followed the Emperor and contributed his strength to the great cause of the Om Messiah.

However, within the Mechanicus at the time, a group led by General Keber Hal stubbornly believed that the Emperor was definitely not the Om Messiah.

He was nothing more than a thief who stole the power of the God of Machines and disguised himself as the Om Messiah; a fraud.

Ezekiel in the past dismissed this as nonsense from Keber Hall, a mere expression of discontent by the forging general over the presence of an emperor above him.

But now, in the world behind this door, after Ezekiel sensed the aura of the god of machines, his worldview collapsed.

He was wrong, utterly wrong.

Aside from the Emperor, he couldn't imagine who else had the ability to imprison the God of All Machines in a secret place beneath Mars.

Om Messiah, imprisoned the god of all machines?
No member of the Cult of Mechanics could remain calm and rational after learning this truth.

"Release...me..."

"Open...the maze..."

The torrent of information Ezekiel sensed began to transform into a clear calling. It pierced through Ezekiel's closed local area network, ignoring his fear and anger, like the most precise key inserted into the most vulnerable lock of the core of the Mechanicus Sage's faith.

"The God of Machines is summoning me."

"I must... release it!"

The original Ezekiel was proud and arrogant. He believed that he was the foremost believer of the God of all machines in the world, and that it would be an immense loss if someone like him could not continue to live.

Therefore, after trying all methods to prolong his life to no avail, he chose to accept Vashtor's power.

In his view, it was less about defection and more about a cooperation that maximized benefits. Compared to the intelligence he had given to the Chaos faction, it was more important for him to continue serving the Empire.

But now, all the distractions in Ezekiel's mind have been washed away: there is no longer any desire for immortality, no longer any awe of Abaddon, and no longer any worship of Vashtor.

Vashtor is nothing but a false god.

His metallic body no longer trembled; instead, it was replaced by a martyr-like steadfastness and fervor.

Ezekiel's massive metallic body unleashed astonishing power, and a dense array of molten metal cannons, plasma emitters, and force field generators capable of creating miniature black holes began to accumulate energy, blasting towards the gate of the Eternal Night Labyrinth.

At the same time, he devoted all his computing power to analyzing and deciphering the intricate runes on the surface of the Eternal Night Labyrinth, trying to find a way to completely open the labyrinth.

When Ezekiel suddenly went mad, the Black Legion warriors around Abaddon were immediately paralyzed.

They just wanted this guy to check out the situation, so why did he suddenly start acting crazy and reckless?
Don't drag us down with you when you're acting crazy!
Abaddon, filled with shock and rage, instinctively led two Terminator warriors forward to try and stop Ezekiel.

But Ezekiel's power far exceeded expectations. With an unshakeable force, his massive mechanical arm swung violently, sweeping away the Terminator warrior who tried to stop him. The warrior crashed into the black wall with a dull thud.

The Great Raider felt an instinctive fear coming from inside the portal, as if it contained some indescribable, incomprehensible monster of destruction.

A roar that could not be described by physical sound waves, and exploded directly at the soul level, suddenly erupted from the depths of the door crack.

Abaddon sensed in that roar the extreme rage born of years of imprisonment, and a ravenous, insatiable desire for all living things.

Abaddon saw a giant eye burning with cold fury, as if it could freeze time itself.

It pierced through the material dimension, carrying pure, inhuman malice, and locked onto the tiny ants at the doorway that were disturbing its slumber.

It was furious, so it wanted to...eat them!
Ezekiel, who was working hard to solve the labyrinth of eternal night and rescue the god of machines, was suddenly pulled into the depths of the labyrinth by an irresistible attraction.

The two Black Legion Space Marines who were too close were also dragged into the labyrinth by this attraction.

Only Abaddon, relying on his own strength, stubbornly resisted this sudden attraction, like a lowly prey clinging to a rock to escape the gaping maw of a dragon.

The other Black Legion veterans behind Abaddon were not so lucky.

One by one, they were sucked into the other side of the portal. Whether it was the Terminator armor, the enhanced flesh and blood, the powerful chaotic energy, or the tormented soul, they were all devoured by that strange entity.

The chilling roar still seemed to reverberate deep within Abaddon's eardrums, along with the dozens of elite veterans he had lost, forming a fresh, bleeding scar on his heart.

However, now was not the time to worry about these losses. Abaddon swiftly drew Draconion's sword, which had transformed into a black greatsword, and led his remaining men to flee towards the exit.

The black legion unleashed unprecedented speed, frantically rushing back towards the passage they had come from, but unlucky souls were still being sucked into the door every now and then, clearly facing dire consequences.

Abaddon's brain buzzed.

Fear, an emotion he rarely acknowledged but was now crystal clear, crawled like a cold worm on his back.

He seemed to understand something behind the door.

It was a dragon, a dragon that contained boundless power and symbolized the laws of physics!
The dragon is trapped in the labyrinth of eternal night and cannot escape.

However, its roar swept in from all directions, and in just a fleeting glance, it almost wiped out his core force.

Abaddon was filled with regret. If he hadn't been so curious and suspicious, and hadn't let Ezekiel touch the door, perhaps none of this would have happened.

However, after escaping for some distance, Abaddon finally led his men to safety, escaping the dragon's influence.

"Damn, damn!"

Abaddon felt as if his heart was being gnawed by a venomous snake, the pain excruciating. The only thing that could comfort him was Draconian in his arms.

"Fortunately, we have the Demon Sword. All the sacrifices were worth it."

"Commander!" Kayan's voice was urgent, tinged with the relief of someone who had just escaped death. The Thousand Wizards' face, hidden beneath their helmet, was unusually grave. "We must leave immediately! The alert on Mars cannot be..."

"No!"

Abaddon hesitated for a moment, then resolutely rejected the idea of ​​retreat.

He lowered his head, his gaze falling on the heavy demonic sword in his arms.

Draconion's eyes gleamed with an eerie green light in the darkness, and a pulse, almost like a heartbeat, emanated from the blade, cold and greedy, yet strangely resonating with his will.

With each pulse, the fear in his heart dissipated a little, replaced by an unprecedented sense of power and...arrogant confidence. The regret and pain from the loss of his subordinates devoured by the Void Dragon were now overshadowed by the promise from this sword that was enough to end the empire.

"We cannot retreat, we absolutely cannot!"

Abaddon's voice suddenly rose, carrying an almost obsessive certainty.

He looked around at the equally shaken Black Legion veterans, and Abaddon knew that these most reliable warriors of his needed encouragement and inspiration to ignite the courage within them.

Abaddon certainly understood the principle that one should press on with one's strength, but the momentum will wane after a second attempt, and eventually be exhausted after a third.

"Yes, we lost a fine brother, but look what we gained!" He suddenly lifted Draconian high above his head, and the eyes of the demon sword suddenly burst forth with a blinding evil light.

An invisible pressure, accompanied by a bone-chilling cold, spread out, causing the surrounding space to seem to distort.

The Chaos Space Marines instinctively took a half step back, yet were drawn in by the destructive power contained within the sword.

"This is Draconion, the end of the empire, the terminator of the false emperor!"

Abaddon's voice, like a war drum, resounded through the narrow passage.

“We paid such a high price for this, and now it is in my hands.”

Zhan Shuai felt the demonic sword greedily absorbing the surrounding fear and killing intent, its power surging into his body, almost bursting the Terminator armor.

"Mars alarms? Let them ring; it will only draw the Empire's attention to us."

"Everyone, we are now on Mars, on the planet closest to Terra!"

"Terra is right above us, within easy reach. Do you think we came to Mars just to steal a sword?"

“No!” Abaddon roared.

"We're here to kill the false emperor, and now is the perfect opportunity—"

Terra is embroiled in internal strife, with Qile's Alliance of Light locked in a fierce battle with the fanatical scoundrels of the Terra State Cult.

The entire defensive system of Holy Terra is riddled with holes because of their foolish infighting!

He paused for a moment, letting his inflammatory words take hold in the hearts of the soldiers.

Draconion's evil light illuminated every face, whether it was filled with fanaticism or hesitation, but ultimately transformed into a ferocious fighting spirit.

"The Fist of the Empire, those stone bastards of Dorne are in a terrible predicament trying to quell the infighting in their master's court."

They have abandoned the dignity and pride of Astartes, willingly serving as guards and shields for these foolish mortals.

"The Mechanicus? Look at Ezekiel's fate. Their proud Great Sage was nothing more than the key to our treasure trove, a lackey of Vashtor, and now he's become that 'dragon's' snack."

Abaddon's voice was like the hiss of a viper, full of allure and destructive promises.

"As for the Imperial Guard? Those golden watchdogs, they just cower in the depths of the palace, waiting for their rotting corpse sitting on the throne to give orders."

They think the palace is impregnable? Wrong. We stormed the palace a hundred years ago; they couldn't protect anything. Otherwise, why would this false emperor be sitting on his golden throne, barely clinging to life?

Abaddon was indeed an outstanding leader; under his inspiration, the previously somewhat scattered hearts were immediately reunited.

The veterans of the Black Legion were like ferocious wolves, their eyes gleaming with a ruthless, predatory gaze.

“We now stand at a historical juncture. We possess Draconion, a weapon capable of truly crippling and killing the false emperor. We have a direct route to the palace—Ezekiel’s private airship and his highest-level identification code are in our hands.”

"It allows us to pass through Mars' orbital defenses like ghosts, bypass the fleets surrounding Terra, and land directly on the Royal Palace's landing pad."

This is fate's arrangement, the key bestowed upon us by the chaotic gods to end the rule of the false emperor and usher in a new era!

"Give up? Retreat? Go back to the Eye of Fear to lick your wounds and wait for the next opportunity that may never come? Only a coward would think that way!"
Warriors, follow me aboard the ship! Let Draconian drink the blood of the false emperor, let the entire galaxy tremble beneath the iron hooves of the Black Legion! For the Chaos Gods! For the legacy of Horus!

"March!"

Terra!

Abaddon raised Draconion and the Claw of Horus high, igniting the atmosphere to its peak.

"For the War General! For the Black Legion!"

"The moment to slay the false emperor is here!"

The Black Legion warriors roared deafeningly, fear replaced by fervent fighting spirit, and losses overshadowed the ultimate glory that was within their grasp.

Abaddon's speech acted like a shot of adrenaline, propelling them to the peak of all-or-nothing determination.

Under Cayenne's complex gaze, Abaddon took the lead, leading his elite force, fueled by vengeful fury, toward Ezekiel's private airship, which possessed extremely high authority.

……

Abaddon's plan was so insane that it could even be described as suicidal.

He was going to take a thousand of the most elite Black Legion veterans aboard the private ship of the great sage Sennet Ezekiel, and head directly from Mars to Terra.

If any link in the chain goes wrong, they will be instantly killed.

However, under Abaddon's leadership, all the Black Legion veterans felt no fear, only a mad obsession with revenge and glory.

Only the Great Raiders have this courage and determination. All the other Chaos Space Marines are just fools who are bold but reckless and only think about maintaining their rule in their own little corner of the world.

Only Abaddon could bring them endless glory and make wildly imaginative strategic plans.

As Kayan had said, the massive energy disturbance that erupted in the Eternal Night Labyrinth region quickly alerted Mars.

A large number of atmospheric patrol warships and androids were dispatched. Although the Cult of Mechanics was focused on the war on Terra, Mars was, after all, their rear base, and they could not afford to be careless.

Thanks to Ezekiel's high prestige, the Mechanicus warships that came to investigate did not even stop or question Ezekiel's ship after discovering it, and simply let it pass without hesitation.

This smooth sailing, for Abaddon, whose mind was racing with passion and boundless enthusiasm, was the best testament to his brilliant decision.

This time, destiny belongs to him, not the empire.

In fact, in Abaddon's mind, if he could successfully assassinate the Emperor this time, then even if all the Black Legion warriors, including himself, perished on Terra, it would be a price worth paying.

Abaddon has never been afraid of death, whether as one of the three heroes of the Great Crusade or as the current Warmaster of Chaos.

He feared that his death would not bring enough reward, leaving this great cause without successors.

But now, with the opportunity right in front of him, he can go all out and fight to the death!
If he chooses to back down, he will regret it for the next ten thousand years.

The probe beams of the Mars Orbital Defense Array swept across the dark void like invisible tentacles.

Ezekiel's private airship, the "Seeker," glided silently through a dense surveillance network, thanks to its internally stored, top-level mechanical sage identification code and special encryption protocol, as if draped in a perfect optical and signal camouflage.

They are leaving Mars and heading to Terra, which is just a stone's throw away.

Inside the bridge, Abaddon stood before the observation window, gazing at the dazzling planet, Holy Terra, which rapidly magnified in his field of vision and was surrounded by countless defensive platforms and a massive fleet.

Kayan stood behind him, his psionic senses spreading out like an invisible spiderweb, capturing the chaotic psionic signals in Terra orbit.

"War Master, the fleets of the Light Alliance and the State Church did indeed engage in war in the space between Terra and Mars, and the signals are still chaotic," said the Thousand Wizards.

“Very well,” Abaddon said with a cruel smile. “Chaos is our ally, and Draconian is already thirsting for it.”

Thanks to Ezekiel's high-level privileges, the Seeker was granted special permission to enter Terra's atmosphere and fly directly to the palace area without much scrutiny.

The airship passed smoothly through the ionosphere, and the Black Legion could even see the State Church Palace where a tug-of-war was raging.

The Alliance of Light has surrounded the defensive line built by the Cult of Terra using palaces and fortresses, while the Titans of the Mechanicus walk across the land of Terra, constantly bombarding the Void Shield of the Cult's fortress.

More Light Alliance soldiers were slowly advancing, gradually chipping away at the areas the Titans had missed.

This situation is just like the siege of Terra a century ago.

Abaddon could feel the heavy breathing of the warriors around him, a mixture of tension, excitement, and a destructive desire.

The airship eventually landed on a relatively remote landing pad near the palace, but one that was directly connected to the core area.

The hatch opened rapidly, and the hydraulic system released scorching steam. Abaddon was the first to step out, his Terminator boots slamming heavily onto the ground of the palace square.

The Warlord took a deep breath, the air of Terra Palace, a mixture of ancient rocks, incense, engine oil, and a faint scent of decay, filling his lungs.

Unexpectedly, the anticipated alarms and the swarms of the Solar Star Army and even the Imperial Guard did not appear.

The area around the landing pad was unusually quiet, with only the echoes of the distant battlefield resounding through the air.

“It’s too quiet…” Kayan’s voice came through the private channel, filled with deep doubt. “This is not normal. Even if there is infighting among humans, the defenses of the core area of ​​the palace should not be so lax.”

"How many troops did we expend to get here a hundred years ago?"

"And now, we can reach it simply by jumping off the airship."

Abaddon's eyes swept over the magnificent yet cold buildings around him. A hint of doubt had just arisen when it was suppressed by the murderous impulse emanating from Draconian.

"Perhaps the religious civil war drew away the Terra Palace's troops, perhaps our disguise was perfect enough, perhaps..."

He gripped the demon sword tightly, the last trace of hesitation in his eyes replaced by madness.

"The gods are paving the way for us. Don't waste any time. Destination: the Throne Hall. Everyone, full speed ahead!"

Abaddon led the Black Legion, galloping along the magnificent yet empty corridor.

At this point, the Astral Army guarding the palace finally began to appear, but their size was clearly no match for Abaddon's Black Legion.

The warriors of the Sun Star Realm were torn to shreds by the Black Legion's ferocious firepower and Abaddon's demonic sword. Their advance was astonishingly fast, almost as if they were entering an empty field.

This unusually smooth success brought Kayan's unease to its peak.

He attempted to make a prophecy, but in his vision he only saw a swirling, mysterious golden mist.

He looked at Abaddon, the Warmaster, who was completely absorbed in the frenzy of achieving his ultimate goal, with Draconian's evil aura almost enveloping his entire body.

Finally, when Abaddon broke through the last giant archway engraved with the Imperial Eagle, the most important heart of the human Empire—the Throne Room—was within sight.

The air was filled with an overpowering, nauseating scent of incense, and the faint smell of ozone produced by ionization could be detected.

The vast space was barely illuminated by the dim light emanating from countless reactors and enormous energy conduits.

At the edge of the field of vision was the majestic golden throne, its structure so complex that it defied mortal comprehension.

Countless thick pipes and arrays of runes shimmering with energy, like blood vessels and nerves, coiled and pierced deep into the throne, eventually converging on the figure seated upon it, almost one with the throne itself.

Lord of mankind.

Emperor.

Just glimpsing that blurry outline from afar, a sense of awe and fear, stemming from an instinct for life, grips the heart of every intruder.

Even the most insane Chaos Space Marines involuntarily slowed their pace and found it difficult to breathe.

Only Abaddon, supported by Draconian's cold and powerful strength, could barely withstand this invisible pressure.

He stared intently at the figure on the throne, his eyes brimming with the anger and resentment of his defeat a hundred years ago.

Horus's defeat, the Legion's destruction, and the repeated bloody battles fought in the Eye of Terror stirred and mingled within Abaddon's heart.

He lifted Draconion high in the air.

The demonic sword seemed to sense the presence of its ultimate target, emitting a sharp, piercing shriek that sounded like the wailing of billions of souls.

The eyes on the sword darted around frantically, locked onto the figure on the golden throne.

"The False Emperor! I'm here!"

"Your terminator has arrived!!"

(End of this chapter)