My Life as A Death Guard (Patreon)

Chapter 84: Friend, do you believe in faith?

The dark and narrow high-vaulted corridor was so confined that only Hades and the Tech-Priest Gell Jordan could barely pass through it side by side. Yet its pointed ceiling stretched high into the unseen darkness above, seemingly without end.

The scent of sacred machine-oil incense filled the air, mingling with the low binary chants that echoed endlessly through the space.

Hades’ head throbbed faintly. The painful memories of being force-fed drinks the previous night were still vivid in his mind. He had to admit, Fenrisian ale was indeed potent, and that wily wolf Manning had definitely added something extra to the mix. Hades could have sworn he tasted antifreeze in it.

Unlike the earnest demeanor of Tech-Priest Gell Jordan, Hades carried himself with a casual, nonchalant attitude, clearly disinterested in the proceedings.

Now, the Tech-Priest intended to lead him into the “sanctuary of doctrine.” Hades didn’t particularly care; it was just a formality.

Still… what if he didn’t profess faith? What if he displeased the Machine Spirit? How would he deal with that?

He decided to cross that bridge when he came to it.

Focusing his attention back to the present, Hades fixed his gaze ahead.

In front of him, Gell Jordan’s towering, curved mechanical spine moved in deliberate increments, one segment after another flexing as he walked.

Gell Jordan dimmed the brightness of his ocular lenses. From the tip of one of his elongated mechanical limbs, a small lantern extended, casting a soft, glowing light.

The metallic walls around them reflected faint glimmers.

"The story of truth begins here."

[The Emperor defeated the Dragon.]

The harsh, mechanical voice resonated sharply, unmistakably clear.

"This world was once chaos."

Through a slit of light spilling from the Tech-Priest’s side, chaotic and disorderly images danced wildly on the walls behind him, resembling corrupted, meaningless data.

It was a depiction of entropy—chaos, devoid of pattern or order, an apocalyptic void.

Wisdom had not yet emerged. Life was mired in savagery.

"But then the God appeared."

"The God said, 'Let there be truth.' "

A massive hand, constructed of gears and steel, emerged from the towering wall. It reached out, as though scooping water from a stream, calming the turbulent chaos into a tranquil stillness.

The hand moved—

A single straight line appeared.

Amid the chaotic mess of meaningless scrawls and jumbled code, this straight line was jarringly out of place.

Yet it was so simple and perfect, imbued with a sense of divinity.

"The God said, 'Let there be logic.' "

The line began to extend. Lines connected to form shapes; shapes combined to form planes. They converged into an enormous, intricate design—a circuit?

It was too vast. Hades could only glimpse a fragment of its grandeur.

"The God said, 'Let there be knowledge.' "

In an instant, the grand design was replaced by an endless torrent of binary. Knowledge. Infinite, boundless knowledge.

Every Tech-Priest who roamed the universe, every vessel seeking the truth, contributed their findings to this sanctuary upon their successful return.

At first, the records here had been few and sparse.

But now, as Gell Jordan walked through the sanctuary, knowledge had long since surpassed its boundaries.

High above, at the limits of Hades’ vision, a stylized, abstract symbol of an eye gazed down, overseeing the knowledge brought by countless explorers who had risked their lives.

Gell Jordan walked leisurely, unhurried, as if wading through a vast ocean of knowledge.

The binary tide engulfed them.

When the shores finally reappeared at the corridor’s end, Gell Jordan’s calm voice spoke again.

"The God gave intellect to the people."

"Those with intellect ushered in their golden age."

Planets emerged, countless ships setting out into the void.

This was humanity’s Golden Age.

The walls of polished metal gleamed with gold inlays, engraving the miracles of a species.

Humanity held the scepter of technology, mastering feats once reserved for gods in ancient myths—feats now easily achieved by even the most ordinary person.

They could reshape the geography and climate of entire planets.

They could siphon the energy of entire stars.

They could even toy with time, bending causality itself.

Humanity flourished.

"And yet, darkness fell."

Darkness descended abruptly.

Betrayal.

Humanity was betrayed by its own creations.

On the pitch-black walls, crimson paint spilled like blood, narrating the tragedy of an era.

War—an unimaginable war erupted.

Countless technologies were lost.

Countless knowledge burned.

Generations of wisdom painstakingly accumulated were reduced to ashes in an instant.

The flame of knowledge was extinguished.

Even now, humanity lingers in the darkness of ignorance.

"Yet in these dark times, the Cult Mechanicus remained steadfast in its faith in the teachings of the God of Machines."

[The Emperor imprisoned the Dragon in the subterranean vaults beneath Mars.]

"The God whispered to them, commanding the Tech-Priests to recover the scattered truths of the universe."

[From the dreams of the Dragon, the first Tech-Priests emerged.]

"And so, the Tech-Priests set forth."

Countless Tech-Priests embarked on their voyages, piloting their vessels into the unknown, desperately reaching out, trying to grasp the fragments of parchment drifting from the fire.

Many of them burned in the flames, never to return.

"But the God beheld their efforts, and the faith of the Tech-Priests moved the Machine God."

"And so, the God had long prepared the answer for His followers."

"When rain falls upon Mars, it will mark the moment of salvation from ignorance."

Dark clouds loomed at the edges of the walls.

A torrential rain began to pour.

"On that day, the God sent forth His emissary to walk among mortals."

Clad in golden armor, the Emperor stood amidst the downpour, arms outstretched, receiving the fervent prostration of the crimson-robed Tech-Priests.

[The Emperor commanded Malcador to bring the rains to Mars through psychic power.]

"The Omnissiah, the Machine God’s emissary of truth, walked the world once more!"

[In their religious fervor, the Empire and Mars signed the Treaty of Olympus Mons.]

[With the Mechanicus joining forces, the Empire’s final industrial puzzle piece was completed.]

[The Great Crusade began.]

"Under the Omnissiah’s guidance, the Tech-Priests would once again seek the truths of the universe!"

Tech-Priest Gell Jordan’s tone grew fervent. A faint crackling of static coursed through his optical units, betraying his excitement.

"Praise the Machine God! Praise the Omnissiah!"

Blinding white light pierced the darkness, revealing the corridor’s end.

A golden, ornate dome stretched above them. The intricate carvings of countless geometric shapes adorned the space. Handsome servitors sang hymns in praise, their crimson robes embroidered with elaborate gold filigree depicting the God’s glory.

Incense, a delicate blend of nanomachines and specially crafted fragrances, wafted through the air, filling the sanctuary.

As Gell Jordan recounted the greatness of their doctrine to the uninformed novice, Hades, he felt the veins in his remaining organic components pulse with fervor.

"Praise the Machine God! Praise the Omnissiah!"

"It is the God who has led us out of the fog of ignorance. We are destined to be His followers!"

The Tech-Priest lowered his towering head. With the sincerest glow illuminating his electronic eyes, he extended his two most humanoid limbs to clasp Hades’ hands.

"Repeat after me: Praise the Machine God. Praise the Omnissiah."

Oh warrior of the God, step into His holy temple!

Hades stared at Gell Jordan in disbelief.

[It was a grand deception.]

[A massive lie had replaced the truth.]

[Those who learned the truth would never speak of it.]

[And so he spoke:]

"Praise the Machine God. Praise the Omnissiah."

Hades murmured.

The sacred hymns continued to echo. Servitors with hollowed-out frontal lobes sang praises to His greatness.

Praise the Omnissiah!