With some time to spare, the key figures in our group gathered to discuss while I mostly just listened.

  ‘Dominus, you likely have the best knowledge of what awaits us inside. Is there anything we should be aware of ?’ Thaberus asked.

  ‘Probability calculus suggests the presence of at least a designated guardian for a vault of this magnitude,’ Kryptorer remarked flatly. ‘However, given the extensive period of the place being completely sealed off, any such entities would have likely long since succumbed to expiration.’

  That reminded me of a story about the Third War for Armageddon. During the extremely grindy Battle of Helsreach, the desperate Black Templars Space Marines decided to dig out an ancient Ordinatus weapon for their tactical gambit. Within that long sealed underground garage was a guardian still operational despite the passing of a few hundred years.

  The Dominus continued, ‘while I have total confidence that Lady Syrine has the proper credentials to open the vault, the possibility of active secondary security measures being present is where her dementia might complicate matters. For safety purposes, once the blast door is opened my destroyers should go in first. After we secure the place, our top priority is to disable the warheads.’

  ‘Where can we contribute?’ Diadinah asked, her delicate but stern features hidden behind a highly decorated helmet.

  Kryptorer turned to the Canoness before answering. ‘Though unlikely to be needed, extra firepower is always appreciated. Once the blast door opens up, kindly redeploy your Battle Sisters with heavy bolters to its edge while the vault is being secured, in case of any unforeseen circumstances.’

  After the planning was concluded, the Sororitas formed prayer groups and chanted their hymns while the Mechanicus contingent lined up their Kataphron Destroyers for a last minute inspection. The low ranking Tech-priests got busy, going through with system diagnostics and weapon checks for the heavy battle servitors’ impending mission.

  As the Mechanicus adepts ran their maintenance rituals, their own Martian prayers almost merged with the Sororitas’ hymns. It was a strange sight, two very different groups of religiously zealous humans bonded by their shared mission. Mesmerised by the scene, I stood as a silent observer on the side when Kryptorer approached me with Callina and Balpradus behind him.

   the Dominus canted to me.

  That prompted Callina to glance at Kryptorer with a hint of confusion, she was probably wondering why he would communicate with a seemingly unaugmented person in their holy binary. Kryptorer doing this in front of her probably meant he was bringing her into his inner circle.

  I nodded and canted back via Solace.

  Callina froze, even her mechadendrites had stopped moving.

  

   I nodded again, wondering for a moment what would happen if my brainwave ever returned to the original state before asking the question.

  

  

  Balpradus, who had been silent until this point, bowed and volunteered.

   Kryptorer replied and we watched as Balpradus dragged a stunned-looking Callina away. Alone with the towering Dominus, I took the chance to ask a question that had been on my mind.

  

  Kryptorer paused for a very brief moment before answering.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  The remaining time went by in a flash.

  It is time.

  The readout indicated air quality was just barely passable for standard humans, but that was no concern for me. I pressed the release mechanism and twisted, the soft seal released with a faint hiss before my helmet came off. As I breathed in the unfiltered air for the first time, I caught the scent of dust, earthly metallic tang, machine oil and a faint ozone residue from the excavation work.

  Though grateful for the protection it provided, I felt much better to be released from the confines of my headgear. That reminded me of the Space Wolves, those Sons of Fenris renown for their extra sharp senses even amongst Astartes and their total disdain for wearing helmets. My restless mind wandered, contemplating the ridiculous notion of if I was a closet Space Wolf.

  I passed my helmet to Welminah, who received it like a relic with both hands. After pulling my hair out, I dug into my bodyglove, and pulled on the chain to fish out my rosette. The golden Aquila shone brightly, reflecting all the lights around it. This thing was smaller than the size of my palm but held the key to this world’s very own survival. Finally, I put on my Inquisitorial micro-bead and was good to go.

  With everyone looking, I walked past the lines of Retributors and Kataphron Destroyers and stepped over the offline lazer fence towards the vault. The enormous blast door looked even more imposing as I got closer, its doomsday warning blaring with disquieting intensity. With my rosette out as a necklace, I walked until I was just metres away from the blast door.

  The repeating warning abruptly stopped, the air around me crackled as a pulse of invisible interrogative energy shot out from the Mechanicum emblem. I felt a torrent of wireless information exchange as the potent mechanism in the massive door carried out the verification, the process even raised the ambient temperature of my rosette slightly.

  For a few breathless seconds, nothing happened. Then the eyes of the huge emblem lit up with dim lights. The half-human, half-cybernetic skull remained still while the cogwheel surrounding it began to turn ponderously as the massive blast door stirred with the weight of ages behind it. Deep from within its structure came the sounds of immense locking bolts wrenching free, servos and pistons groaning as long-dormant mechanisms came to life. The massive blast door rumbled as it began to separate, its immense weight shifting as one half rose upward and the other sank into the ground.

  ‘Praise the Omnissiah!’ Kryptorer appeared behind me with the rest of the VIPs, his usual emotionless demeanor cracking a little as his head moved rapidly with multiple lenses focusing loudly in a rare display of emotions. Around us the Kataphron Destroyers moved forward as planned with the Retributors moving into position.

  We watched as the grim Mechanicum emblem withdrew with the upper portion of the door, its long vigil finally ended after ten millennia. With a final shudder the opening stopped, leaving behind a long, dark passage that yawned like an open maw. Kryptorer gave a silent order and the destroyers rolled forward to secure the place.

  Despite the tension, everything went smoother than expected, maybe I simply worried too much. Just as I was heaving a sigh of relief, somewhere at the very end of the dark tunnel a thing stirred.

  What was that?

  Whatever it was, it moved again, shifting with the sluggish inevitability of a thing that had not moved in a very, very long time.

  ‘I see movement!’ I called out.

  Then came the echoing sound of metal scraping against stone, slow at first, then faster, like a waking beast testing its own weight. I saw it, my superhuman eyesight caught its form in the ultra dim light, but my mind failed to completely comprehend what I was seeing.

  Our vanguards, the six Kataphron Destroyers in their human-tank chassis grotesque glory, continued forward. Their powerful headlights soon revealed the figure in the dark, confirming what I had seen, leaving everyone in stunned silence.

  Whatever it was, the thing was huge and wrong. Standing about twice the height of Kryptorer, it had too many limbs, with too many joints bending wrongly at awkward angles. It moved with the stuttering hesitance of a machine that had forgotten how to function. Something that should have been a face loomed out from a tangled mess of cabling and ragged strips of what might have once been robes. On said face was a dozen or so optics, or what passed for them, they flickered erratically with dim lights, while others blinked in eerie synchrony.

  ‘By the blessed sands of Holy Mars! A still functioning guardian!’ Balpradus blurted out what was on everyone’s mind, a flare of astonishment in his usually calm synthetic voice.

  The thing in the far end twitched and spoke. A voice, if it could even be called that, scraped through the long passage together with canted binary, the combined result echoed like broken gears scraping against one another.

  ‘… not Him.’

  There was something in its cracked and distorted tone, not anger, not hostility, but a mechanical patience stretched too thin from a twisted sentience that had refused to die despite operating way past its hardware expiry date.

  It lurched forward, its limbs—all of them, some scraping against the floor sharply, moved in a grotesque cascade of motion. A hand, or maybe several, flexed open with multiple digits twitching as if grasping for something long forgotten.

  ‘Not… the Divine One.’

  Divine One?

  I vaguely recalled the term being another one of the Emperor’s countless titles. As the thing awkwardly approached, the closest tracked destroyers reacted by pointing their weapons preemptively at it, their targeting reticles automatically locking on for fire solution. That turned out to be a bad mistake. In the next instance, somewhere within the shifting mass of the thing a sound clicked, then a triple-barrel weapon abruptly appeared from deep within its frame.

  Well shit. I immediately went into fight or flight mode, thought acceleration activated, [Auspex] wave blasted out and [Analytica] ran on the thing. As time slowed down from my point of view, a thick, blinding beam was unleashed with a rippling shockwave. I felt its heat as it tore straight through the three foremost destroyers, cutting through heavy armour like they were cardboard and leaving only glowing wreckage in its wake.

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  Damn—a master-crafted multi-melta!

  In full glory of time dilation, I saw everything happening in slow motion. The destroyed destroyers fell apart, they crumbled like melted wax figures, glowing like embers. The remaining destroyers turned to engage but were immediately cut down by the same weapon, all six heavy battle servitors eliminated in a flash.

  I heard Balpradus utter a binaric curse while Kryptorer initiated his aggressive scanning, weapons unconcealed from his robe but for the moment held back, obviously fearing accidental destruction of priceless relics. The Sororitas in contrast were more decisive, with Canoness Diadinah ordering an all out attack on the open vox.

  Then my own readings came back: Posthumans, tech-priests. My [Auspex] on the other hand revealed a shocking detail: if I was reading it correctly, this thing seemed to have rigged itself to a complex system that would detonate the warheads the moment it ceased to function.

  As the crucial information flashed before my mind, another hidden energy weapon popped up from the guardian. It took me a moment to recognise what it was—a Volkite weapon. The long phased out imperial weaponry notorious for their difficulty in maintenance and devastating effect on organic matter. Horrifyingly this thing was carrying the most potent man-portable version in the form of a Volkite Culverin.

  My mind turned and saw the impending disaster. It would inflict horrible casualties on the sisters, they in return would retaliate with vengeance and—I watched with slow motion horror as the thing turned to aim its Volkite weapon at the Sororitas.

  This would be the end of us all, I MUST STOP THIS.

  The desperation of the situation drove me to utilise a revolting move which I had never attempted: hostile body takeover of a cyborg. Suppressing a nauseating feeling, I swiftly locked myself down in the standing position before reaching out to the guardian, treating it like a soulless machine spirit. A strange new sensation took over and my consciousness barged uninvited into the thing.

  In a flash I saw how it was analyzing and categorizing everything around it. It recognised the Kataphron Destroyers as what they were, little more than battle servitors. It saw the Tech-priests as adepts of the Mechanicum, still using the obsolete term. The Battle Sisters on the other hand stirred confusion, it did not recognise their iconography nor their setup of baseline female humans operating in power armour. The Adepta Sororitas wasn’t even a thing back then.

  The guardian immediately noticed my intrusion and reacted violently, attention turning inwards for confrontation. As we clashed for control, I noted it was still able to calculate firing solutions without the slightest pause as if it had multiple minds.

  Hold on.

  In a moment of sudden clarity, I finally saw the thing for what it really was—an amalgamation of Tech-priests. More than one mind was present inside, it was in my [Analytica] reading all along: tech-priests. Plural. I “looked” closer and noticed only one of the minds was pressing against my consciousness, one more was running combat operations and the last one was staying put, guarding the detonation trigger, calculating the salvageability of their duty. My reading was correct, it had rigged its existence to the warheads.

  Outside, from the guardian’s barely working, jittering optics I saw the Retributors firing their heavy bolters. Mass reactive shells smashed into the guardian but were met with flickering flares of refractor fields. I saw Alicya and her squad covering my body which was just standing still. I saw Welminah and Callina huddled together with Thaberus and his retinue, retreating to a corner. I also saw Canoness Diadinah with her power sword drawn, leading the charge. The Battle Sisters surged forward in a tide of power armour to bring their shorter ranged bolters and multi-meltas to bear. Behind them came the second wave of Kataphron Destroyers backed up by Skitarri Rangers.

  The guardian reacted by authorising counter fire with its Volkite Culverin on the encroaching combined force. As the weapon powered up, I seized control at the last moment, forcing it pointing upward just before it unleashed its full payload. The ancient weapon discharged harmlessly on the ceiling of solid rock in dazzling fireworks. Taking stock of the situation, I concluded there was no full proof way for me to safely defuse the detonation trigger and exited the guardian.

  I returned to my body and found myself surrounded by Alicya and her squad. The palatine had put herself up as my shield many times like this before, she was definitely a keeper. Meanwhile the place had erupted into a sensory pandemonium. The distinct smell of bolter discharge was thick in the air, mingling with the thunderous echoes of heavy bolters firing in confined space. I would surely have sustained permanent hearing damage by now as a normal human.

  Looking out, I witnessed the guardian still being hammered by a rain of heavy bolter shells, though luckily its refractor field was still holding in a splendid display of shimmering lights. Activating my halo, I injected as much authority as I could into my voice over the open vox channel while canting to all the Tech-priests via Solace.

  ‘STOP THE ATTACK!’

  

  The divine radiance of my halo illuminated the darkness of the passage. The Battle Sisters ceased their march and attack, the deafening roar of many heavy bolters abruptly gave way to the sounds of halting boots and spent shells clattering on the stone floor, freezing the impending apocalypse. Everyone’s attention was drawn to me as I dropped my next critical message.

  ‘Its vitals are linked to the warheads! If it dies, we all die with the planet.’ Hearing that, even Niandra who was creeping forward along the shadows stopped her movement.

  ‘Confirmed. Confrontation will lead to total annihilation.’ Kryptorer dropped a vox message and canted his command, apparently reaching the same conclusion with his own readings.

  ‘Everybody stand down, let me talk to it,’ I ordered. The sudden pause in hostility from our side of course would not be recognised by the guardian, the only reason it wasn’t immediately shooting again was because its weapons were on a cooldown cycle.

  ‘Alicya, thank you. Let me through.’ The palatine and her squad hesitated for half a second before nodding and gave way. I walked quickly, catching up to the Battle Sisters and their Canoness in the front, my halo casting their shadows onto the passage wall. They all bowed as I passed. If only the thing could also be so easily impressed.

  Soon, I found myself accompanied only by my servo-skull as we advanced toward the massive guardian. Though it appeared to tolerate my approach, I swallowed hard, well aware that its deadly weapons were likely primed to fire again. With my rosette held high, I addressed the cybernetic chimera.

  ‘Adepts of the Omnissiah, hear me. I am ordained by the Emperor of Mankind to claim this place.’

  The guardian took a long look at me and my glowing halo, its many, many optics focusing in and out for a moment before turning its attention to the golden Aquila in my hand. Then, it asked a question with both its terrible voice and a binary cant.

  ‘Who are you?’

  Finally, the start of a conversation. I breathed deep, organised my thoughts in a flash before deciding on my answer. ‘I can show you if you have a genecode reader.’

  Wordlessly a palm-sized flat surface popped up from the depths of the guardian’s body, and it extended out to me in a silent invitation. I gingerly walked over to the grotesque hunched mass and was about to place my palm on the reader before noting I was fully armoured.

  How do I…? My brain spun and I recalled Roboute Guilliman once kissing a data-slate for an important verification process, but no way in hell was I doing that here. Not about to waste time in this tense situation, I sucked it up and gently pressed my face against it, trusting my demi primarch-grade immune system to ward me from whatever potential disease that could be lurking on the surface.

  The guardian stirred in what may be counted as deep contemplation for a moment before a series of soft but quick canting escaped its dilapidated speaker. In a mortifying yet fascinating display of cybernetic horror, the three minds started discussing amongst themselves.

  

  

  

  They went on and on, debating at a speed that was impossible for any human to keep up. I eventually tuned out and ran calculations on how to safely wrestle over the warheads trigger, but found little viable safe solutions. Eventually their grand discussion came to an end.

  <...regardless, the prime directive stands.>

  

  

  The guardian straightened up and spoke to me again. ‘This unit acknowledges you to be His direct creation. Still, the directive stands, only the Divine One may enter.’

  ‘Verify with me, this Divine One you speak of is the Emperor?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Impossible to comply. He has been confined to the Golden Throne on Holy Terra, I am here on His behest.’ I stated.

   ‘An impasse.’ It replied with a static hiss, sounding almost angry.

  Thinking fast, I decided to take advantage of my meta knowledge of this universe. ‘I have a proposal. Ask me a question that would prove my validity.’

  ‘An interesting proposition.’ It replied, its many optics split between staring at me and surveying the combined forces clogging up the long passage. Without warning, it then started another discussion with itself.

  

  

  

  

  Hidden threat? Was that me on my “hack” attempt? Surprisingly this time the three minds swiftly came to a consensus.

  ‘Proposal accepted. However, this place can never fall into the wrong hands.’ ‘You have one chance.’

  Wait, did it just imply it will just blow everything up if I fail?

  I wanted to protest but it was already asking the question. Its voice, layered with the echoes of three minds crushed into one, pushed through cracked vox-grilles with a tone of finality.

   ‘What is the name of the Divine One?’

  While my face had remained still, inside mentally my jaw had dropped to the floor. You’ve got to be kidding me... No one knows that! Not even from my old world!