War Hammer: The reality Bender Chapter 44 44: Cawl's Premonition

What Rowan hadn't anticipated, however, was that the very Archmagos of the chanicus he was so fervently thinking about was, at this very mont, vastly closer to him than he could have ever imagined.

The World of Valos.

On the complete opposite side of the planet's surface, a chanicus encampnt had been erected, bustling with frenetic activity.

Swarms of Skitarii Vanguard and various servitors moved back and forth, ticulously calibrating an array of esoteric equipnt. In the absolute center of the encampnt, a colossal chanical drill relentlessly bored downward, excavating a massive crater into the planet's crust.

Standing nearby was a chanical behemoth so vast it resembled a towering holy icon of the Omnissiah. Entirely draped in Crimson Martian robes, the towering figure suddenly tilted its head upward.

The octopus-like chadendrites coiling around its form slowly and rhythmically unfurled in response.

"What is the matter?"

Standing directly beside Cawl, an individual clad in yellow-and-black power armor—possessing a physique significantly larger and broader than even a standard Astartes—spoke up. "Your augtics suggest you have detected sothing."

"Indeed I have, but this sensation... I am struggling to quantify it using standard linguistic paraters. It is an anomaly akin to... physiological unease."

Archmagos Dominus Belisarius Cawl spoke slowly, his synthesized voice underscored by a faint chanical hum.

Hearing this, Alpha Primus found it highly peculiar. "That is statistically improbable. The degree of your cybernetic augntation is so absolute that you lack a biological heart. How can you experience 'physiological unease'? Is it a sensor malfunction?"

"It is not a malfunction."

Cawl slowly shook his head, a flicker of genuine perplexity appearing within his singular organic eye. "My internal auspex arrays indicate that for exactly 1.3 seconds, due to an entirely unknown variable, every single instrunt integrated into my chassis experienced a phenonon analogous to 'machine spirit exaltation'. It instantaneously and massively spiked my chanical operational efficiency."

He paused, before continuing, "Furthermore, it was not restricted solely to that. I appear to have suffered an auditory hallucination... It was as if the machine spirits awakened and began to chant a specific designation."

"That designation was—[The Broken God]."

"That sounds exceptionally ominous," Alpha Primus stated, his tone growing grim.

"Could it be localized interference radiating from this xenos ruin?"

"My preliminary analysis indicates... that is highly improbable," Cawl murmured softly.

Since he was fundantally unable to deduce the root cause, Cawl had no desire to continuously dwell on this unknown anomaly, opting instead to shift the subject.

Belisarius Cawl's massive, centipede-like chassis slowly pivoted toward Alpha Primus. "What is the current status of that strike cruiser belonging to the chaotic traitors?"

Alpha Primus paused for a microsecond, rapidly scanning the tactical data scrolling across his helt's retinal display, before answering imdiately: "It remains anchored in low orbit on the exact opposite hemisphere of this planet. Auspex scans indicate the vessel has not initiated any further maneuvers."

"Is that so..." Cawl sighed, the sound echoing like venting steam. "Regrettable."

This particular exploratory expedition was not taking place in so remote, lawless frontier far from the light of the Astronomican. It was taking place within the absolute heart of the Imperium of Man: the Segntum Solar.

Consequently, to evade the dogmatic scrutiny of his political rivals on Mars and conduct this xenos excavation as covertly as possible, Cawl had not elected to travel in his personal flagship, the Ark chanicus Zar-Quaesitor. To maintain absolute stealth, he had commandeered an Endurance-class Light Cruiser heavily retrofitted with archeotech stealth-baffles and advanced anti-auspex arrays.

While this granted him unparalleled stealth, it catastrophically crippled his offensive capabilities. Thus, when Cawl discovered the sudden arrival of a Chaos strike cruiser in the very sa system, he had no choice but to begrudgingly maintain vox-silence and remain hidden.

Otherwise, had the Zar-Quaesitor been present, he possessed absolute confidence that in a void engagent, he would have comprehensively granted that warp-corrupted, Omnissiah-forsaken vessel the rcy of total annihilation.

"If we initiate hostile action against this Chaos warband, tactical cogitators project our probability of victory at thirty-five percent... The likelihood of catastrophic failure is unacceptably high."

Seemingly sensing Cawl's frustration, Alpha Primus elaborated: "According to the archival databanks, that vessel's identification runes match a strike cruiser lost by a company of the Sons of dusa Chapter in 780.M40, following an ambush by the Chaos warband known as the Angels of Ecstasy."

"Based on subsequent intelligence shared between the Sons of dusa and the Adeptus chanicus, the Angels of Ecstasy is a highly potent splinter faction that originally broke away from the Traitor Legion known as the Emperor's Children."

"Upon commandeering the vessel, the Chaos Lord of this warband subjected it to extensive warp-corruptive retrofitting. A strike cruiser originally designated to transport a single Astartes company now possesses the capacity to deploy a transhuman complent vastly exceeding its original design paraters."

"Therefore, given the current disparity in force concentration, I strongly advise against proactively initiating hostilities—especially while we remain undetected."

"...Your logic is sound," Cawl murmured.

He was acutely aware that his responsibilities were simply too monuntal; he was, quite literally, shouldering the future of the Imperium of Man.

He should not, and could not, take such an unnecessary risk.

"However... sigh..."

For the Emperor-knew-how-many tis, Belisarius Cawl found himself deeply mourning the Great Crusade—that glorious era of mankind's ascendant progress, an era where everything was constantly improving.

...

anwhile, on the other side of the planet.

Having departed from the Armageddon Steel Legion's logistics base, Rowan and his retinue trekked across the barren wilderness, searching for a suitable, isolated clearing to fabricate the requested wargear.

After all, openly demonstrating reality-bending dominion in front of a massive crowd was simply too terrifyingly heretical.

For the sake of the Guardsn's continued existence (specifically, preventing a scenario where they witnessed sothing they shouldn't and were subsequently purged by his Inquisitor), Rowan felt it was best to put so distance between them.

However, during their trek, a tactical exchange comnced. Rowan naturally outlined his new conceptual theory to the two won, soliciting their input.

Yet, to Rowan's surprise, it was Lucia—who historically rarely voiced her own opinions—who raised the first question.

"Lord Rowan, why are you expending such massive effort on these trivial matters?"

Having listened to Rowan's grand design, Lucia was genuinely puzzled. "I personally believe you should focus the entirety of your attention on continuously elevating your own ontological power."

"Even now, your almighty power approaches that of the legendary Primarchs. If you continue to ascend, I hold absolute faith that one day, you will possess sufficient divine might to single-handedly salvage the entirety of humanity."

"No, I believe you have misunderstood my intent."

Rowan frowned slightly, imdiately correcting her. "This is a core component of my ascension plan. Simply put: while my current capabilities are indeed potent, they are fundantally insufficient to et the prerequisites for the next stage of my ascension.

Therefore, I require every possible asset that can assist in gathering the necessary resources."

Hearing this, both Cybia and Lucia exchanged glances, genuine confusion bleeding into their expressions.

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