Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 523 Maria Nearl

Ten years is a precious time for anyone. It's enough for a child who used to run around to grow into a man who can carry a gun, and it can also add the wrinkles to the eyes of a once beautiful young girl.

However, for Maria Nearl, the ten years on Rostov-2 were the most fulfilling and happiest time of her life.

This is not about indulging in comfort, but a journey of rebuilding homes on ruins and forging oneself amidst steel and vows.

Ten years ago, the purple swarm of the Tyranids devastatingly devoured the hereditary territory of the Nearl family.

That was a complete disaster.

The knights, whom the family was so proud of, along with their inherited machines and the "Iron Throne" that carried the will of their ancestors, were mostly lost to the insect swarm while covering the retreat of their people.

At that time, Maria had just completed her coming-of-age ceremony at the age of sixteen, during which she received the initial recognition of the Iron Throne and became a young knight.

But no one, including herself, would consider her a qualified knight at that time.

She was just a teenager, lacking experience and her strength was far from mature.

Maria's family suffered a great calamity, with almost all of the elders dying. The only surviving uncle Marna and aunt Zofia from a collateral branch had to support the entire family. Although her older sister Margaret was mature and reliable, she was only a few years older than Maria. Many of the burdens made Maria feel powerless.

She had to figure things out on her own, and that heavy sense of loneliness and responsibility was the first mark on her path to adulthood.

In the dead of night, she is often pulled back to that desperate scene: the Acastus Orion Knight mech that should have belonged to her—the guardian symbol of her family's Mechanicus lineage—is fighting alone in an endless sea of ​​purple insects.

She clearly "saw" it wielding its massive cannon barrel, each strike unleashing blinding flashes of fire, tearing apart the surging aliens, its joints emitting piercing screams under extreme load.

However, the swarm of insects was endless, and the acidic corrosive liquid was poured onto the adamantite armor like a torrential rain, creating a deadly cloud of smoke.

In the end, that towering figure was completely engulfed and corroded away in the desperate resistance, along with her familiar family members in the cockpit.

The pain of losing her home, and the deep regret of not being able to fight alongside her loved ones and protect her territory, became the deepest motivation and an unhealed scar in her heart.

She knew that her uncle and sister had never forgotten their desire to reclaim their homeland, and so had she.

The faces of those sacrificed elders, familiar relatives, and playmates became the fuel for her to study, train, and improve herself relentlessly over the past ten years.

"Miss, your tea." A deep, steady, mechanical synthesized voice sounded.

Maria snapped out of her reverie and accepted the silver teacup offered by a family servant.

She habitually looked out the window at the enormous ecological dome.

Outside the dome, the harsh starlight of Rostov-2 and raging dust storms blaze; beneath the dome, however, lies the fruit of her and her family's ten years of hard work: a vibrant scene unfolds before your eyes—towering hydroponic farm towers reaching into the clouds, vast fields of golden crops swaying in simulated breezes, and a network of anti-gravity pipes supported by a fine gold frame carrying clear water.

Ten years ago, when the family arrived with only four surviving knights and displaced people, all they found was this desolate and lifeless desert. Now, with the continuous and strong support of Governor Chen Xi of the Sub-Sector and the unremitting efforts of all family members, it has become the new foundation for the revival of the Nearl family.

The air was filled with the fresh scent of damp earth, the fragrance of new leaves, and the faint smell of machine oil and scorching metal wafting from the distant foundry—the latter scent being a mark of her bloodline as the heir to her family's mechanical lineage.

As the future leader of her family lineage, Maria lives each day in a strict rhythm dictated by her dual identity.

At dawn, dressed in a simple yet well-tailored knight's training uniform, she engaged in a fierce sword and hand-to-hand combat sparring session with her sister Margaret at the training grounds next to the family castle.

The crisp clinking of metal training weapons, the solid sound of footsteps, and the rapid breathing caused by the combat formed her fixed morning symphony.

In the afternoon, she changed into the robes symbolizing a mechanical technician and entered the family's mechanical sanctuary, which was dimly lit and filled with the smell of machine oil. In the strong smell of holy oil, ozone, and metallic dust, under the guidance of an old relic guardian whose body was mostly mechanized, she buried herself in the complex workbench or climbed on the frame of the tall knight's mech.

Disassembling and maintaining hydraulic pipelines, precisely calibrating sensor arrays, adjusting neural interface synchronization rates...

The cold touch of these tools, the low hum of the coils, and the stream of binary data flowing before her eyes formed the core of her afternoon world.

She absorbed knowledge voraciously and spent long periods of time conversing with her steel throne, accumulating a knight's practical intuition through the experience of her predecessors.

She had followed her aunt or sister to the battlefield and won some honors, as evidenced by the several Imperial Double-Headed Eagle Medals and the Family Badge of Valor that she wore on her chest.

But in Maria's own view, this was far from enough.

Her growth is not fast enough, nor is it extensive enough.

Margaret, her older sister, is already a composed, wise, and highly respected knight leader, capable of inheriting the family's long knightly position. And what about herself?

Her uncle, aunt, and sister still seemed to treat her like a child who needed to be taken care of, rather than a capable adult.

She is indeed the youngest in the family, but she is already a knight recognized by the Iron Throne!

She longed to prove herself and to share the burden of her family. This anxiety and longing, like tiny gears, turned day and night in her heart.

Maria was engrossed in the servo system optimization scheme presented on the data panel, the cold logic diagrams and the warm smell of machine oil mingling in the mechanical sanctuary.

A smooth, synthesized voice from the attendant mech announced: "Miss Maria, your 'Radiant Sentinel' mech's self-check process is complete. Status: Excellent. It has been deployed to Training Platform 3 as scheduled."

She put down the data tablet, her fingertips still feeling the coolness of the screen.

Leaving the sanctuary filled with the scents of incense and metal, Maria stepped into the corridor that connected to the outdoor training grounds.

Sunlight streamed in through the tall arched windows, casting bright spots of light on the gleaming alloy floor. At the end of the corridor, the expansive training ground came into view.

In the center of the venue, her car stood majestically like a silent guardian.

The newly replaced ceramic steel armor plates reflected a cool and solid luster in the sunlight.

Maria strode towards the mecha's feet, reached out her hand, and lightly brushed her fingertips across the cold, adamantine surface.

She could feel the subtle undulations of the etched prayer runes, and the steady, powerful pulse of the sleeping machine spirit beneath her palm emanating from the armor.

Every touch made her feel at ease, and it also made her more eager to control it and prove herself.

"Is there a coordinated tactical drill with Sister Margaret scheduled for today?" She turned her head to ask the attendant mech, her fingertips unconsciously lingering on the seam of the armor—where a trace of fresh, clear holy oil had seeped out, a minor imperfection after routine maintenance that needed to be recorded.

“No, Miss.” The attendant mech’s visual sensors flashed a steady green light. “But Miss Margaret is waiting for you in your private study. She carries the scroll of the Governor’s orders.”

Maria's heart skipped a beat.

The governor's orders? To find her directly?
She nodded, trying to maintain her composure, and turned to walk into the castle, her steps quickening slightly than usual, the sound of her heels striking the ground echoing almost imperceptibly in the corridors.

Passing through the corridor guarded by statues of long-horse riders from past generations of her family and hanging ancient battle flags, she pushed open the heavy oak door to her study.

(End of this chapter)