Chapter 10: A Brand New Technology

The vast council chamber was empty save for Guilliman and Cawl; everyone else had been dismissed.

As a Magos of the Adeptus Mechanicus, Cawl—with his towering mechanical frame—was in no way inferior in height to Guilliman, a Primarch. Over the course of ten thousand years, Cawl had undergone countless rounds of technological augmentation, leaving little organic flesh remaining on his body.

On his back sat a massive, shell-like metallic construct, topped with a force-field generator and extending several active mechanical arms, alongside several floating skulls connected by neural cables. Beyond these, a multitude of high-energy weapons gathered from across the galaxy were embedded into his frame, hardwired directly into his brain and spine. His lower body had been completely replaced with machinery; every step he took emitted a mechanical hum, accompanied by the rhythmic hissing of pistons. A glow emanated from Cawl’s chest—it was clear that this madman had installed a nuclear fusion reactor in his torso to power his vast array of armaments.

Even as someone who had been in close contact with the Mechanicus before, Guilliman could not help but marvel at the sight. It was a literal manifestation of the creed: "Flesh is weak; steel is eternal." The Mechanicus truly held a deep-seated grudge against the flesh; they had long since abandoned it entirely.

"Cawl, come before me," Guilliman said, his tone remarkably gentle.

Cawl was the key to his own resurrection and remained one of the few people he could trust. At the very least, for the moment, Cawl would not betray him. He had spent ten thousand years wandering the stars, fulfilling a single promise to see the Primarch reborn, scouring the galaxy for technology lost to the currents of history and buried in ancient ruins. If such a person could not be trusted, then loyalty meant nothing at all. Of course, in this wretched universe, everything shifted with the passage of time, and Guilliman had to be prepared for the possibility that everyone might eventually betray him.

"Lord Regent, what are your commands?" Cawl approached, his heavy metallic form leaving indentations on the marble floor. His eyes glowed with mechanical light; if one stared closely, they could faintly see the rotation of gears within them. The eyes of a Tech-Priest were no longer mere flesh, but bionic sensors blended with organic matter, possessing a multitude of scanning functions.

Guilliman fell silent for a moment before producing a data-slate. "The contents of this drive are knowledge I secretly gathered ten thousand years ago. This information will allow us to forge an entirely new army—a force that will help us regain the initiative in the galaxy."

The contents of the data-slate were, of course, not truly knowledge from ten thousand years ago. They were simply files Guilliman had culled from his own databases. Claiming they were ancient was merely a convenient excuse to bypass the potential obstruction of the Mechanicus. If they doubted it, they were welcome to go back ten thousand years to verify it. And if they couldn't? Well, that was hardly his problem.

Bypassing the Mechanicus to build a new army was one of the primary reasons Guilliman had chosen to remain in the Ultramar 500 Worlds. As a vital ally of the Imperium and the primary provider of mechanical equipment, the Mechanicus had grown increasingly insular and dogmatic over the last ten millennia. It would take them hundreds of years just to move from testing a new product to establishing an assembly line. Guilliman did not have the luxury of waiting for the Mechanicus to validate his technology. By the time they finished, the Imperium would have long since collapsed, and he would likely have become a plaything for the Ruinous Powers.

It was better to stay in Ultramar, his own base of operations, where the influence of the Mechanicus was less stifling. With the support of Calgar, Celestine, and others, he had more room to maneuver, allowing him to leverage the strength of the 500 Worlds to rapidly construct a powerful new force—a force that would serve as the catalyst to pull the Imperium back from the brink.

Given the current complexity of the Imperial situation, this was Guilliman's best path forward. The Imperium was too vast, its various factions too deeply entangled and interdependent. The High Lords of Terra, the planetary governors, the noble houses of every world, the Astra Militarum, the Imperial Navy, the Custodes, the Inquisition, and the various Space Marine Chapters—the internal power struggles among these groups were fierce.

Furthermore, the Mechanicus viewed itself as an ally of the Imperium, often acting as if they were beyond the Imperium's jurisdiction. The infamous War of the Beast had seen them act in ways that nearly led to the Imperium being conquered by Orks. Beyond that, there was the gaping pit of the Ecclesiarchy, where infighting for power was equally dire. They had even launched so-called "Crusades of Penance" multiple times, throwing dozens of Chapters into the Eye of Terror—essentially sending "gift packages" to Chaos. Those Chapters were almost entirely loyal, yet because of the Ecclesiarchy’s paranoia, they were forced into a death trap and corrupted into minions of the Dark Gods.

To maintain control, successive rulers had constantly applied "patches" to the Imperium. Now, the entire realm was covered in patches—ugly, bloated, and grotesque. The Imperium was mortally ill; mere stitching and patching could no longer save it. Only through radical reform and a total, sweeping blood transfusion could the Imperium regain its vitality. And the prerequisite for all of this was that he must possess an absolutely formidable army.

Cawl looked at the data-slate Guilliman offered, his expression one of confusion. He did not believe Guilliman possessed any technology of such profound significance. Out of respect for the Primarch, however, Cawl accepted the drive and inserted it into the data port at the base of his skull.

The data surged into his processors instantly, and the look of confusion on his face was replaced by an expression of ecstatic frenzy. This was knowledge he had never encountered before: blueprints for genetic augmentation and entirely new designs for warships. When he saw the schematics for the "Death Star," a flush of excitement rose to Cawl’s face.

"This is..." he stammered. "This is a world-ending weapon!"

Warships of this caliber, known as Death Stars, were certainly not technology within the possession of the Mechanicus. The Mechanicus had lost vast swathes of knowledge, and what was worse, much of it was irreplaceable. Once lost, it meant the Imperium had forfeited that technology forever. Most of the technology held by the Mechanicus was not gained through research, but by excavating STC templates. In other words, their "innovation" was merely archaeology. While innovation did occur, it was always minor tinkering that did not touch the foundations. To change too much would risk accusations of Tech-Heresy, potentially leading to execution for offending the Machine God.

"Are there no STC templates for this technology?" the Tech-Priest asked, looking up at Guilliman after reviewing the data.

"No. This was all gained through ten thousand years of study," Guilliman said candidly, not concealing the truth.

If a technology lacked an STC template, the Mechanicus would never permit its application. Otherwise, they would wage war against any industrial world using such tech in the name of the Machine God, annihilating the inhabitants to prevent the use of the "heretical" advancements. Guilliman looked at Cawl; if he remembered correctly, Cawl was a radical—a member of the so-called reformist faction. Nowadays, a new voice had emerged within the Mechanicus, advocating that they stop blindly following ancient dogmas and instead pursue innovative research to strengthen the Imperium. The conservatives, meanwhile, stubbornly branded the radicals as traitors who blasphemed the glory of the Machine God. The struggle between the two was intense.

"Then what do you require of me, Lord Regent?"

Hearing this, Guilliman offered a faint smile. As he had expected, Cawl was not one of those conservatives from the Sol System. When it came to technology, he did not care whether it originated from an STC template.

"I need an entirely new army. From warships to personal equipment, everything requires an overhaul to ensure we can crush the Chaos traitors and xenos with overwhelming force. I grant you the authority to mobilize every industrial world in the 500 Worlds; they will cooperate with your directives. Cawl, give me a confident answer. Tell me you can handle all of this with ease. Once I have finished purging the remaining Chaos forces in the Ultramar 500 Worlds, I will need an army ready to carve a path to Terra for me."

"I shall fulfill your commission, Lord Regent, and replace the equipment for your armies to the best of my ability," Cawl bowed slightly, his mechanical body emitting a distinct metallic crunching sound as he moved.

"Very good. Remember, the 'Thought-Stamp' technology must be prioritized for research, and it must be kept under the strictest secrecy. Do not disclose any information regarding it," Guilliman said in a low voice.

"Understood, Lord Regent."