"This is because the entities I intend to hunt in the imdiate future possess a level of power that I am highly unlikely to match relying solely on my current ontological density. To successfully achieve my objectives with absolute certainty, I must unify every available asset to ensure a flawless execution."
Rowan explained.
The C'tan shards he planned to hunt were absolutely not soft targets.
No, that wasn't entirely accurate...
It would be more precise to say that among the fragnted Star Gods, Rowan had to seek out shards possessing an apocalyptic level of raw power in order to et the prerequisites of his ascension.
Take the Burning One shard imprisoned on Fenris, for example. That specific shard was weak enough to be directly overpowered and subdued by Trazyn the Infinite. Such a low-tier entity would undoubtedly fail to et Rowan's exorbitant requirents.
As for the remaining unanchored shards—whether it was the Void Dragon imprisoned beneath the Martian surface (capable of wrestling with literal Warp Gods), or the eight-in-one Supre C'tan housed within the core of the Pharos Beacon—they were absolutely terrifying entities.
Simply put, in a direct confrontation, Rowan would be annihilated.
In comparison, the World Shaper C'tan shard housed within the World Engine represented the most optimal target available.
However, even so, successfully assaulting the World Engine and ultimately obliterating the World Shaper would require massive Imperial military backing—especially the overwhelming cache of archeotech hoarded by the Adeptus chanicus.
Relying solely on his current strength was blatantly insufficient.
Naturally, converting the Enginseer was rely an initial experint. Moving forward, Rowan needed to establish contact with genuine Magos of the Cult chanicus.
"Speaking of Magos..."
Inquisitor Cybia suddenly spoke up, as if recalling sothing. "I recall the Custodian ntioning that, according to recovered intelligence, an Archmagos of Mars should currently be operating on this very planet."
"Huh?"
Rowan blinked in surprise.
Why didn't you ntion this earlier?
Securing the Inquisitor's silent consent, he imdiately utilized his reality-bending dominion to rapidly index Cybia's mory engrams, reviewing the tactical exchange she had with the Custodian on the bridge prior to their descent.
"Well then."
Rowan was left montarily speechless by his own oversight. Fortunately, this blunder hadn't delayed any critical operations.
"Once we terminate the Ork Warboss, we shall endeavor to locate this Martian Archmagos."
As he spoke, a sudden, bizarre thought struck him. He murmured to himself in genuine astonishnt, "It couldn't actually be Archmagos Cawl, could it?"
At that precise microsecond, within the distant chanicus encampnt...
Belisarius Cawl's colossal chassis emitted another frantic burst of chanical humming.
What is happening?
Again?!
Profound bewildernt and utter incomprehension flooded his cortex, echoing across every single one of his fragnted personalities.
...
The Command Post of the Armageddon Steel Legion.
"Mortal, that is the fourth instance you have covertly observed . If you have a query, speak plainly."
Standing silently to the side, clad in magnificent Terminator plate and gripping his sword and shield, Leonardo spoke with a calm, resonant voice.
Following Rowan's directive, he had shadowed Yarrick back to the command post, silently observing the Commissar ticulously orchestrate the regint's logistical and tactical operations.
As a Custodian—a being engineered for absolute mastery in all fields—Leonardo was forced to concede that this mortal possessed an echelon of strategic command acun that was truly exceptional.
"...Apologies, my Lord. It is nothing."
Yarrick sighed.
Damn it all. He simply could not suppress his imnse curiosity.
The education he received at the Schola Progenium ensured he was not entirely ignorant of the Imperium's labyrinthine organizational structure, unlike the vast majority of Imperial citizenry. As an Astra Militarum Commissar, he possessed a relatively solid understanding of the hierarchy.
But it was precisely because he understood it that he found the current situation so utterly incomprehensible.
The Adeptus Custodes possessed an absolute, transcendent authority within the Imperium. They were the Emperor's personal bodyguards and the eternal sentinels of the Golden Throne. Their political independence was unparalleled; save for the Emperor Himself, they answered to absolutely no one.
Theoretically, should they choose to do so, they possessed the authority to depose the High Lords of Terra.
Yet, a being of such staggering significance was actively taking orders from an outwardly ordinary mortal?
When Yarrick witnessed the Custodian unquestioningly obey Rowan's command to remain behind, the tidal wave of shock that washed over him was indescribable.
However, ultimately, his instinct for survival violently suppressed his thirst for knowledge.
Yarrick forcefully compelled himself to stop prying into the secrets behind this dynamic.
Looking at the tactical reality, the addition of these reinforcents had entirely compensated for the Imperial Guard's lack of elite, specialized close-quarters assets, granting them a definitive edge over the Greenskins.
Suddenly, a bizarre prickle of instinct flashed through Yarrick's mind.
His eyes narrowed infinitesimally, and his hand casually drifted toward the bolt pistol holstered at his hip.
Almost simultaneously, the Custodian's stance shifted, instantly adopting a lethal combat posture.
Oh?
He noticed it too?
This thought surfaced in both their minds simultaneously.
While Yarrick remained stoic, Leonardo was profoundly astonished.
How did this mortal perceive it? Even his own transhuman, alchemically enhanced senses had only just registered the microscopic anomaly in the ambient environnt.
Where is the enemy?
The Custodian subtly swept his gaze across the command post.
The environnt remained perfectly silent; everything appeared completely normal.
But in the next microsecond, that dead silence was violently shattered by deafening gunfire.
Without the slightest physical tell, Yarrick drew his bolt pistol and squeezed the trigger.
A torrential barrage of mass-reactive rounds roared from the barrel, instantly saturating a seemingly empty, shadowed corner of the command post. Bright splashes of green blood imdiately erupted into the air!
Behind the visor of his tactical helm, Leonardo's eyes narrowed dangerously.
Manifesting within his field of vision were six Ork Kommandos.
They were clad in crude approximations of tactical gear, but what stood out was that each wore a seemingly entirely ordinary piece of blue fabric draped over their shoulders.
Yet, this ridiculously crude camouflage had sohow successfully deceived the eyes of every sentry outside, allowing them to infiltrate all the way to the absolute nerve center of the regint.
The objective of these Greenskins was blindingly obvious.
"WAAAAAGH!"
A guttural roar erupted. The remaining Kommandos who hadn't been shredded by Yarrick's bolter lunged forward, their serrated combat blades glinting coldly in the dim light.
Just as Yarrick prepared to adjust his aim and fire again, a violent gust of wind swept past him.
The towering, three-ter-tall golden behemoth cleanly interposed itself between the Commissar and the Orks.
SHING—
A singular arc of crackling power-field light flashed. Every single Greenskin was instantaneously reduced to dismbered corpses in the exact sa microsecond.
With the threat neutralized, Leonardo conducted a thorough, microscopic sweep of every corner of the room before turning to Yarrick. "Those were... Ork Kommandos? I have reviewed archival records detailing them in the Custodian data-vaults, but I did not anticipate their stealth capabilities to be this potent."
"They shouldn't be. Under standard operational paraters, a Kommando's stealth field should not be this effective."
Yarrick shook his head. He crouched down and ticulously examined the blue fabric draped over the slaughtered Orks.
To an ordinary observer, it was nothing more than an entirely mundane piece of blue cloth.
But through Yarrick's veteran eyes, he successfully extracted a highly critical piece of tactical intelligence.
His expression growing grim, he murmured, "It appears we must accelerate our titable. The Greenskins are evidently preparing sothing highly catastrophic."
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