Warhammer: Striving to Be a Grinding Man

Chapter 150 Forging the Temple 942.M41

Three months later, 100,000 mechanical brethren recruited from Lucius arrived at the Garros spaceport. The transport ships' exhaust plumes gradually died down in orbit, and as the gangways descended, crimson robes poured forth from the hatches—optical lenses formed a flowing speckle of light in the dim berth lights, and metallic footsteps echoed continuously at low frequencies on the jet bridge. The first replenishment since the founding of the Garros Forge World had arrived.

They were a powerful addition to the Galos Forging World after its establishment. Prior to this, Galos already possessed complete industrial capacity, an independent military system, and a well-established administrative structure, but it lacked only one crucial element of the Forging World: a sufficient number of monks trained in the systematic Mechanicus. Wangshu's shipyard could build ships, and its underground industrial zone possessed enormous industrial capacity, but it lacked enough technical personnel to operate them. Every dome needed maintenance, every production line needed supervision, and every blueprint needed interpretation and revision.

The composition of this team was far more complex than that of the "teachers." Ship engineers were directly assigned to Wangshu's shipyard, senior craftsmen and technical priests were assigned to the underground industrial zone as production line supervisors, logistics and engineering experts filled the spaceport's scheduling and materials management departments, and others entered the core layer of the computing hub to maintain and optimize the Thinker's mainframe's computing architecture. Data analysts and system maintenance personnel were added to the temple's information center, and weapons testers, friars technical advisors, and even several scholars specializing in the interpretation of ancient technical documents were assigned to their respective posts. They were there to operate the machines.

The subsequent selection of apprentices with sufficient potential from the vast immigrant population for systematic training, or the direct cultivation of apprentices with basic knowledge from incubation tanks—this is the common practice of the Mechanic Order in the foundry world. As long as there are enough senior technical personnel, the method is merely a choice of path. Regardless of which path is taken, someone is needed to guide them. This group of people from Lucius are the first batch of formal technical personnel in the Galos foundry world.

The renovation of Dome One has been completed. The original residents have been relocated to other domes in batches, and Dome One no longer serves as a residential building.

Cohen emerged from his office on the top floor of what was once the Governor's residence—now the side chapel of the Temple—and walked along the arcade toward the meeting hall. Twilight filtered through the transparent armor plates of the dome, mingling with the cool white lighting in the corridors to create a greyish-white hue on the floor. He slowed his pace as he passed the main temple construction site. The adamantine framework of the temple was rising, the outlines of hundreds of elevator shafts appearing and disappearing in the twilight. These shafts pierced the foundation, reaching the uppermost level of the underground industrial zone. The elevators were the industrial pulse of the city: surface decisions, underground production, directly connected by hundreds of vertical passages. When the Temple was finally completed, there would be no longer a barrier between faith and production.

As he passed through the arcade, a soldier in crimson power armor saluted him, the Garros gear and skull insignia gleaming coldly on his breastplate. Cohen nodded in return.

In the corridor on the second floor of the side hall, some people were still moving documents, while others were debugging terminal equipment. As Cohen passed a half-open office, he heard someone talking inside—"—The first batch of names will be finalized next week, led by the ones from Lucis." He slowed his pace. Cold white light shone through the crack in the door, and several figures in gray robes sat around a long table. He paid no attention and continued walking towards the conference hall.

The meeting hall, located on the first floor of the side hall, was the largest meeting room in the former Governor's Mansion. The seats inside were arranged in a concentric semi-circular arc, rising gradually from the central podium outwards.

On the central platform, Vera Nazari stood in the main seat, her deep red robe fastened tightly at the collar, the insignia of a fourth-tier technical priest gleaming darkly in the cold light. Opposite her, in the front row of the arc, sat several high-ranking technical priests from Lucius, the first core members of the Garros Temple's technical system.

Behind the podium, a separate seat was set up on a slightly raised platform. When Cohen sat down, the curved seating area was already full—the left wing was occupied by officers of the Apostolic Guard, the right wing by technical supervisors from the industrial sector, civilian representatives interspersed behind the right wing, and Ellis sat in the middle, neither conspicuous nor secluded.

The dome of the circular conference hall was inlaid with cool white light strips. Several servo skulls floated in the corners, their optical lenses slowly rotating, recording every word spoken at the meeting.

The meeting has been going on for two hours. The topics are divided into three categories—military, industry, and civil affairs.

In military matters, the organization of the Holy See Army was the focus of discussion. Cole sat in the front left flank as a Holy See Army commander—wearing a dark gray uniform, the scar on his left eyebrow mostly healed. He flipped through a data panel, his voice echoing in the conference hall: "The Invernus Legion has completed a reorganization by drawing elite troops and combining them with the original Garros Planetary Defense Force. The original organization has been completely dismantled, and personnel have been reassigned based on combat experience and specialties. Currently, the total combat-ready force is approximately one million men, organized into one hundred regiments, each with a theoretical strength of ten thousand men, including infantry, air force, armored, and artillery regiments. Most of the Invernus Legion members have already been relocated locally."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room. "The long-term goal of the Guardians of the Faith is a full complement of three million men. There's a shortage of two million, which will be recruited from future immigrants. This is just a long-term plan, possibly lasting ten or twenty years, depending on the needs. We prioritize quality over quantity." After a brief pause, he explained, "Immigration has already begun. The Calissis sector is closer to Garros and has more hive worlds. The administrative team is currently screening suitable hive worlds; you can inquire with them for details."

A voice in the left-wing officers' quarters asked in a low voice, "Is the entire Calesis Sector willing to release them?"

Cole's voice was flat: "That's the administration's job. We're only responsible for whether the people we recruit can fight. The administration is responsible for recruitment, and we're responsible for training and command. Everyone should stay within their own purview and not overlap."

No one asked any further questions. Cole turned to the next page of the data panel.

The remaining deputy commander-level officers were also awarded the rank of marshal, and the chain of command remained unchanged.

In the industrial sector, a senior technical priest stood up from the front row of the arc, his voice carrying a faint metallic crackle: "Wangshu's production line is running at full speed, but the management structure is not yet in place. Each department has equipment, workstations, and workers, but there is no clear person in charge."

Cohen spoke up: "For the time being, I will directly lead the industrial sector. The senior technical priests present here will establish an industrial committee to review existing production capacity, identify the heads of each department, and then report to me."

The Tech Priest's optical lens snapped shut, and his right arm rose and fell from his chest in a short, sharp gear-like salute. "Understood." He sat down without asking further questions.

The discussion on civil affairs was led by Ellis. Each of his questions was practical: "Agricultural processing under the dome,"

Light industry, trade management, and household registration are currently handled by the civil affairs department. According to the standards of the foundry world, these departments need to be incorporated into the monastic system of the Cult of Mechanics. How?

A technical priest turned to the side: "Civilian personnel need to receive basic training from the Cult of Mechanics and be incorporated into the Temple's civil administration. The existing administrative structure can be retained, but the status of personnel must be changed."

"Identity transformation requires assessment and certification," another tech priest chimed in. "These are necessary rules for forging the world."

""

"A transition period can be set up," the senior technical priest, sitting on the other side of the curved front row, interjected, his voice carrying the precision and indifference characteristic of Mechanicus monks. "Provisional titles will be granted first, and then formal titles will be conferred after the catching-up courses are completed. This is a necessary buffer, but the buffer itself cannot be used as an excuse for delay."

Ellis made a note on the data board: "How long is the transition period?"

"No more than six months."

Ellis didn't look up: "Okay."

The row of optical lenses simultaneously lit up for confirmation. The flash was as brief as the aftershock of a metallic clang.

Vera took over the conversation. Instead of reading the rank table aloud, she projected the data onto the lectern screen, revealing a clear table outlining the five ranks of civilian staff. The technical priests in the front row glanced at it, some nodding slightly, others zooming in and out with their optical lenses.

"The first three ranks correspond to the progression from technical craftsman to apprentice technical priest," Vera said. "The fourth rank corresponds to the advanced technical priest sage preparation. The fifth rank is the civil sage, the highest level in the civil service, corresponding to the full sage. This ranking system will cover all non-technical administrative positions in the Foundry World."

Ellis, sitting in the middle, asked, "What rank does my position correspond to?"

Cohen's voice descended from the platform: "Fifth Rank. Civilian Sage. Not just Ellis. The entire Garros administrative system, all department heads and civilian personnel, are directly granted the civilian rank corresponding to their actual duties."

The circular hall fell silent for a moment.

An industrial supervisor on the right wing put down his data board: "Director, granting positions without evaluation is not the rule in the foundry world. Every step of the production line in Wangshu requires self-inspection, mutual inspection, and specialized inspection. Why is evaluation being skipped in the administrative system?"

Cohen glanced at him: "Because they've been in the Garros administration for a long time, and their abilities are proven in practice. Every step on the production line is standardized; anyone could achieve the same quality. Administrative positions don't have standard answers, only results. And they've already delivered results."

The supervisor remained silent for a moment, then picked up the data panel again. He didn't ask any further questions.

Cohen continued, "No assessment doesn't mean no learning. Everyone must take remedial classes on the basic doctrines of the Mechanicus, and the fundamental differences in the management systems between the Forging World and the ordinary Imperial World. These classes are to ensure they grasp the core knowledge required for the Forging World's administrative system in the shortest possible time. It's not for selection, but to ensure that Garros' transition from the Industrial World to the Forging World isn't hindered by administrative issues."

"From now on, newcomers entering the administrative system will be assessed starting from the first-level technical assistant priest. The current group is the founding team, and rules will be established for future newcomers."

A senior technical priest turned his head slightly, his optical lens aimed at Ellis: "We'll take care of the tutoring, scheduled by department."

Ellis noted on the data board: "After the make-up lessons, the Temple of Forging will issue official rank badges."

The row of optical lenses simultaneously lit up to confirm.

After the agenda items were concluded, the atmosphere in the room relaxed slightly. The technical priests filed out, and the officers exchanged a few words about the training plan at the door before dispersing.

Ellis walked at the very back of the crowd. As he passed through the side hall corridor, he still clutched the data tablet in his hand, and the list on the screen was already mostly annotated.

As he reached the end of the corridor, a voice came from behind him.

Ellis.

He turned around. Cohen stood on the steps of the side hall exit, not wearing the sage's robes, but in dark gray casual clothes, and without a data tablet in his hand. Dusk fell behind him, pressing his silhouette into a dark shadow.

"Your task is very important; it's related to the transformation of Garros," Cohen said. "Do your job well, and if you have any questions, just come to me."

Ellis paused for a moment, then said, "Understood, Director."

He turned and continued walking. His dark gray robe disappeared into the twilight at the end of the corridor.

Cohen stood on the steps, not leaving immediately. A silent draft, carrying the scent of metal and purification, pressed down from the vents, lingering in the arcades. He turned his head; from the direction of the forecourt came the sound of nuns reciting prayers in their evening hymns, their silhouettes in greyish-white power armor faintly visible in the twilight. He pretended not to hear.

He withdrew his gaze and walked along the corridor towards the top-floor offices. He paused as he passed the entrance to the circular hall—

Light was still seeping through the crack in the door.

Vera stood behind the central podium, on which lay several data boards and scattered documents. She gathered the documents into a stack, closed the data boards, looked up, and saw the light streaming through half of the circular hall, landing in the direction of the entrance—Cohen was standing there, about to walk over.

"Cohen".

Cohen stopped and turned around.

"Should I get around to the mechanical modifications?" she said.

Cohen walked a few steps in from the doorway and stopped at the edge of the curved front row of seats: "What do you mean?"

"A fourth-tier Tech Priest, presiding over temple meetings—I'm still only holding on with a single contact point at the back of my head." She turned her head, brushing back the hair at the nape of her neck to reveal a small patch of silver-gray interface panel. "The people below don't say it, but every time I walk into the circular hall, their optical lenses linger on me for a few extra seconds. How can I, a high-tier Tech Priest, not even have a proper set of enhancements? —You know how those Mechanics think."

Cohen glanced at her interface panel: "Your position is earned through your work, not through high machine replacement rates. Modification is not the goal; more modifications do not necessarily mean a higher level."

“But in this system,” she let her hair down, “the more you reform, the more people listen to you. This isn’t a rule I set; it’s what they’ve believed for millennia.”

"—When do you plan to advance to the fifth rank of Sage?" Cohen rarely made a joke.

Vera's lips twitched slightly, but she quickly regained her serious expression. "Cohen, I think I really need it. A few years ago I was only at Tier 2, and my experience was definitely insufficient."

Cohen paused for a moment, then said, "I know. But you are one of the people I trust most, and you are the only one who is most suitable to take on this responsibility right now."

Vera let her hair fall. Her fingers hovered over the edge of the podium. She paused for a moment, then said, "So when do you think I should make my move?"

Cohen thought for a moment: "When you feel it's necessary, don't ask anyone else; I'll do it for you."

Vera's fingers paused at the edge of the podium. She looked up at him—not with her usual sharp gaze, but for a fleeting, unprepared reaction—before lowering her head. It was so brief that Cohen didn't even notice.

"—I understand." Her voice was a little lower than before.

Cohen had already looked away. He was considering something else: if things really had to be changed, safety and compatibility were paramount—the operation of the Temple of Forging couldn't be disrupted by Vera's modifications.

He withdrew his gaze, turned, and walked out of the circular hall.

The existing technical staff of Gallos—engineers, technicians, medics, and data programmers recruited from the Wandering Port, the earlier immigrant recruitment, and the Invernus War—are undergoing a systematic transformation. They are being incorporated into the mechanical cleric technical hierarchy, awarded ranks ranging from First-Order Mechanical Apprentice to Fourth-Order Technical Priest based on their actual technical abilities. Technical ranks are further subdivided by specialization: Mechanical, Biological, Data, Casting, and Engineering. Dr. Liz has been awarded the rank of Fourth-Order Technical Priest, with the full title of "Biomedical Technical Priest."

These technicians do not need to prove their abilities through assessments—their abilities have already been proven in their work over the years.

But they also need further training—training in the fundamental doctrines of Mechanicus and how faith and technology can be integrated within the Forge world. No more half-trained or unofficial members will be permitted. Garros needs Mechanicus monks who understand both technology and faith.

Administration, technology, faith—these are the skeletons that forge the world. Above the skeletons lie muscles, and the power of iron and fire. The reorganization of the Guardians of the Faith is underway, immigration channels are being opened, and the Felice roaming port route continues to operate, primarily transporting technical personnel and rare raw materials. Immigration will proceed through the hive capital of the Calissis Sector; the two routes will run parallel.

The first task was to install the symbols of the Mechanicus inside all the domes. Gear and skull emblems were etched at the entrance to each dome, binary prayers were sprayed onto the ground along the streets, and the Emperor's icon appeared side-by-side with the gears of the Om Messiah on the facades of public buildings. Garros was a world of casting, but it was first and foremost part of the Empire—the Emperor's gaze could not be absent.

A tech-priest stopped a clerical monk in a grey robe on a street corner and pointed to newly painted binary prayers on the wall: "Who painted these prayers on this wall?"

The clerical monk stopped and glanced at the scene: "I don't know. The painting crew is fully booked this week; it won't be our street's turn until next week."

""

The technical priest's optical lens zoomed out slightly, but he didn't reply. The two turned and walked in different directions. The technical priest took a few steps, then stopped, glancing back at the prayer inscription on the wall—the runes were accurate, but the strokes were uneven in thickness, clearly indicating that the person who sprayed it didn't understand the meaning of each bend. He looked away and continued walking.

Dome One has become the administrative core of Garros. The former residential area has been transformed into neat rows of administrative buildings with gray-black terracotta steel exteriors and narrow, long Gothic arched windows. Each building's entrance is etched with Garros' gear and skull emblem. All civilian staff have moved in—first and second-tier staff handle paperwork and data entry in the large open-plan rooms on the ground floor, third and fourth-tier staff are distributed in separate coordination centers and analysis rooms, and the fifth-tier civilian sage, Ellis, works in his office on the second floor of a side hall.

Cohen walked along the street between the administration buildings. Painted Mechanicus emblems lined the intersections, stretching all the way to the edge of the dome; imperial icons stood on the facades of public buildings; patrols of the Guardians in red power armor walked past the street corners—

The battle banner is a unified Garros cogwheel and skull emblem.

Several clerical monks in grey robes emerged from the administration building, clutching data tablets and quietly checking numbers as they walked. They stopped at an intersection, gave a slight, precise bow in Cohen's direction—a gesture that was precise yet kept at a distance—and then continued on their way.

As Cohen crossed the intersection, a Vigilante soldier stopped and put his right fist to his chest. Cohen returned the salute with a gear.

Behind me, sunlight streamed across the street from beneath the dome. Signs lined the intersections, the Emperor's statue gleamed coldly in the twilight, and patrols of the Guardians of the Faith turned the corner and disappeared into the gaps between the administrative buildings. In the distance, at the construction site of the Temple, the adamantine framework continued to grow under the lights, the outline of the elevator shafts appearing and disappearing in the twilight.

Gallo is becoming a true world of casting—not through documents, not through titles, but through these things being etched into daily life. Faith is transforming from ritual into habit.

As a clerk crossed the intersection, he instinctively paused in front of the gear and skull emblem.