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Chapter 217: Do Mechanical Heads Dream?
🕑 Added 2025-08-12 13:41:47 +0000 UTCChapter 217: Do Mechanical Heads Dream?
The Harlequins all knew that what Sylandri said was correct. When the Eldar truly needed to unite and gather their strength, the Harlequins did not have that much influence. Otherwise, the different factions of the Eldar would have gathered together long ago. Her proposal was a compromise among the differing opinions of the Harlequins.
They had reached a consensus that the Eye of Terror could not be allowed to open, and that the future strength of humanity must also be weakened.
The Harlequins began to head in different directions through the Webway. Lemire went to find Yvraine to prevent her from using the power of the Eldar gods and intended to continue to weaken humanity in his own way. And Sylandri went to complete the plan she had mentioned before: to use humans to deal with humans.
Using the complete star charts from the Custodes' warship, Lucan controlled the Stellar Pioneer to head towards a planet that had been marked by the Imperium as destroyed by Chaos and having lost all its value. This planet was named Orestes VI.
"Bro, hurry up, I really can't hold on!"
At this moment, the power of the Emperor was once again surging through Lucan's body. In order for the Emperor to make Belisarius Cawl cooperate with his next actions, Lucan had once again briefly become the Emperor's pressure-release valve.
Compared to the full release during the battle with the Four Gods, the impact on Lucan this time was significantly smaller. In addition, the increase in the threshold of Lucan's warp projection also allowed him to bear more of the Emperor's power. But the negative emotions generated by the desperate prayers of humanity within this power of faith could only be resisted by Lucan's will.
For a moment, the various negative emotions flooding into his brain almost drove Lucan mad.
The Custodes protecting Lucan knelt on one knee around him. Looking at Lucan, it was as if they saw the Emperor once again.
As the power of faith came to an abrupt end, Lucan couldn't help but support himself with his hands on the ground, gasping for breath. He shook his head, trying to drive out the emotions that did not belong to him. He knew that he could not withstand a second time in such a short period.
"Does it really take that long to send a message, to send a dream?! Emperor, I suspect you're doing this on purpose!"
Lucan really suspected that the Emperor's butt had gone numb from sitting on the Golden Throne for too long, and he was taking advantage of Lucan's existence to stretch his legs a bit and take a breather. Lucan knew that if this happened again in a short time, he might be driven mad. This was not something that could be offset by the warp projection or the strength of his psychic powers.
And with the release of this power, a clear vision also reached its intended destination.
At this moment, in the northern region of the planet Orestes VI, a huge industrial zone had been established. In the sky above the planet, there was a large fleet belonging to the Adeptus Mechanicus. And in the void near the planet, there was still the wreckage of some Ork warships.
One by one, servitors were digging and transporting materials on the planet. A large number of exceptionally well-equipped Skitarii were protecting this area. From time to time, a large group of Orks shouting "Waaagh!" would charge the industrial zone, but they were quickly annihilated by the dense firepower.
And in the depths of the industrial zone, in an alien ruin, a huge mechanical individual was studying a piece of blackstone. This person was Belisarius Cawl.
Mechanical arms extended from under his robes, simultaneously operating various pieces of equipment. In order to maintain his life and preserve the technology he knew, Cawl's body had also been fused with a large amount of heretical and xenos technology. But even so, Cawl needed to periodically clean out the data in his brain and store it elsewhere to ensure that he could live through the long ages. And many of the stored data, even Cawl himself had forgotten where they were stored. Ten thousand years was simply too long.
And it was because of the terrifying knowledge reserves in his mind that Cawl, who should have been regarded as a heretek by the Adeptus Mechanicus, could obtain knowledge from different forge worlds and factions. These tech-priests and forge worlds were willing to provide Cawl with all kinds of supplies, just so that he would be willing to share some of the lost technologies in his brain with them. Cawl's brain was an unparalleled treasure trove for any tech-priest.
Cawl had originally wanted to quickly complete his investigation here, but this so-called "quick" investigation had actually taken him several years. He was immersed in his research, but even with ten thousand years of accumulated knowledge, Cawl had not made much progress. Through everything Abaddon had done in the past, combined with the battle reports from the Imperium, after Cawl's precise analysis, he knew that Abaddon's target was these blackstone pylons, but he still hadn't figured out their true purpose.
"This material is not uncommon in the Imperium, but why does Abaddon want to destroy these xenos buildings?"
Putting down the blackstone fragment in his hand, Cawl thought that he could not continue to delay here. The Armour of Fate had been forged. He needed to go to Macragge to fulfill his agreement with Guilliman.
Returning to his temporary research lab, a large number of the Imperium's most advanced mechanical instruments were placed here. Cawl planned to conduct one last round of analysis and attempts before leaving this planet.
But just as he was about to begin his attempt... Cawl felt a force invading his body...
"The power of the warp?"
The instruments in his body that sensed the warp were constantly sending warning signals to his processor. But this power also felt incredibly familiar. And under the invasion of this massive warp power, Cawl found that his own consciousness was beginning to leave his body.
Cawl immediately searched his database. He seemed to have fallen into a state close to dreaming. Cawl had completely forgotten what dreaming felt like. Sleep, that useless function, had long since been completely abandoned. In his current body, there was only a very small portion of flesh, and the same was true for his brain.
How could a mechanical head dream?
Although Cawl had abandoned almost all of his flesh, he still had a soul. The soul that Cawl now possessed, which was a fusion of multiple personalities and souls, was several times stronger than that of an ordinary person. As long as a soul still existed, the Emperor could, through a brief release of power, connect with Cawl's consciousness through the warp.
In this ethereal state, Cawl actually heard the voice of the Emperor.
Before the Emperor had sat on the Golden Throne, He had entrusted him with something. Even before Cawl had become the great Archmagos he was now, the Emperor knew that he would have an important positive impact on the Imperium in the future. Cawl had forgotten many memories, but he had not forgotten the Emperor's voice. He was a follower of the Emperor, but not a believer in the Omnissiah or the "God-Emperor." He preferred the title of scientist to that of Archmagos. He was willing to follow the Emperor because of the Imperial Truth that the Emperor spoke of, not the God-Emperor that the Ecclesiarchy now portrayed.
And at this moment, the voice of the Emperor once again echoed in his mind.
Through what Lucan had told Him, He revealed to Cawl the true purpose of the blackstone. He also told him not to trust those Eldar, and that a Rogue Trader named Lucan would go with him to Macragge to awaken Guilliman.
The voice came quickly and went just as quickly. When his consciousness returned to his mechanical body, Cawl also felt a sense of unreality. He checked the logs in his body. His body had indeed been offline for two seconds. And when he searched his logs to see if his brain had recorded the words he had heard, he found that there was no record at all. But the words seemed to be imprinted on his soul.
