Another simulation ended quickly, the connection severing as abruptly as it had formed.
After consciousness fully returned to his body, after the lingering phantom sensations of being Captain Amhrad faded from his nervous system, Nolan simply glanced at the reward options still hovering in his vision. He processed the information with his usual efficiency: three choices, each with significant implications.
He rolled over from the metal bed and sat up, bare feet touching the cool floor. The temperature difference helped ground him further in reality.
"Let's not even talk about the melta bomb manufacturing and Gauss cannon," Nolan muttered to himself, his voice rough from disuse. "Why don't you just give me an entire space hulk while you're at it?"
His eyes fixed on the third reward option displayed by the simulator interface, reading through the detailed annotations again. Five kilometers of fused wreckage. Imperial and Necron technology mixed together in catastrophic collision. Dangers and treasures in equal measure.
"Hiss..." He sucked air through his teeth, mind already calculating possibilities. "The repairable shipborne machine soul is essentially artificial intelligence. Plus the remains of various vehicles and all those bits and pieces of technological items scattered throughout the debris..."
His thoughts accelerated, following logical chains with the focus of someone who'd spent years planning and scheming.
"If Reditus can salvage and repair them, even redesign and manufacture new versions from the templates, it would save me countless simulations and years of time. The efficiency gain alone would be enormous."
Nolan's expression grew more animated as the implications sank in fully.
"Most importantly, the shipborne machine soul, the one who's most intimately familiar with the internal structure of the entire battle barge... for that intelligence, building a battle barge would essentially be rebuilding its own metal body. It would remember every detail, every system, every connection. The knowledge would be preserved!"
His eyes widened with genuine excitement, a rare display of emotion breaking through his usual controlled demeanor.
However, the rationality that had kept him alive through countless dangerous situations reasserted itself almost immediately. His expression cooled, enthusiasm tempered by cold calculation.
"Of course," he continued aloud, forcing himself to confront the harsh realities, "whether we're talking about the metal materials required to build a battle barge, or the manpower necessary for such a project, or even the time needed for construction completion... all of it represents a very scary unknown."
He stood from the bed, pacing slowly as he worked through the problem.
"Even if the foundry eventually gets upgraded to a proper forge complex in the future, it would still take at least two hundred years to construct a battle barge from scratch. The scale is just that enormous."
Nolan shook his head slightly, releasing a long sigh that carried both frustration and dark amusement.
"Unless I somehow conquer the entire world eventually and do nothing else with those resources. Transform the whole Earth according to Reditus's fever dreams into a forge world, every continent covered in manufactorums and refineries. Only then could we potentially build a battle barge within a few decades, right?"
The absurdity of the scenario made him pause. A forge world. Earth as one massive industrial complex, its beauty and diversity sacrificed to the endless hunger of production. Billions of lives bent toward a single purpose.
Not impossible, perhaps. But not desirable either.
So far, owning a battle barge remained completely out of reach for him, a goal so distant it might as well be fantasy. The gap between his current resources and what would be required felt insurmountable.
But even acknowledging that crushing reality, even understanding how impossible the dream currently was, Nolan decided without further hesitation to choose the third reward option.
He could consider it adding a long-term goal for himself to continue striving toward. Something to build toward across years or decades. A destination to orient his efforts.
However, Nolan didn't extract the reward immediately. Instead, he closed the simulator interface with a thought, the holographic display winking out.
According to previous tests he'd conducted, as long as he didn't make a final selection and extraction, the simulated reward would remain available in storage. The option would be preserved, waiting.
It wouldn't be completely overwritten until the next simulation started and generated new rewards to replace the old.
The reason Nolan chose not to extract it immediately was twofold, both practical considerations.
First, the current underground base simply lacked sufficient space to accommodate a five-kilometer radius debris field. The facility, while extensive, was designed for human-scale operations. A space hulk would literally not fit, would crush corridors and collapse entire sections through sheer mass.
The base was also in the process of relocation anyway, equipment and supplies being moved to the new overseas facility. Better to wait until the move was complete.
Second, and more importantly, he'd taken the simulator's annotated warnings seriously.
Although the surviving Necrons likely present within the hulk weren't particularly dangerous to him personally anymore, not after experiencing their capabilities firsthand through the simulation, he was even somewhat covetous of the living metal materials and advanced weapons they possessed.
But for the human world outside his underground base, for the ordinary people living their lives in ignorance of such threats, the Necrons represented a terrifying disaster waiting to happen. Self-repairing warriors with molecular disintegration weapons. Constructs that could disassemble matter at the atomic level.
If even a few escaped containment...
Therefore, Nolan planned to postpone extracting the space hulk until after the relocation to the new base was complete. Once settled in a remote location far from population centers, he could explore the debris field carefully and methodically.
By then, even if large numbers of active Necrons still lurked within the wreckage, even if entire tomb complexes had somehow survived the collision intact, Nolan could eliminate them with peace of mind. Cut through them like vegetables, as the saying went, without worrying about collateral damage to innocents.
Nolan moved to the small washroom attached to his quarters. He splashed cold water on his face, the shock helping further dispel any lingering disorientation from the simulation. He brushed his teeth, ran wet hands through his hair, performed the basic maintenance that kept a body functional.
Then he walked out of the lounge into the corridor beyond.
The brightly lit base hall stretched before him, vast and echoing. It felt strangely empty now, almost abandoned despite the activity.
The relocation was clearly well underway. Even the massive metal round table that usually dominated the central space had been disassembled into several manageable pieces. Automatic servo robots moved in coordinated groups, slowly transporting the components toward the deeper tunnels leading to surface access points.
Their mechanical legs clicked against the floor in rhythmic patterns, a sound Nolan had grown so accustomed to that he barely noticed it anymore.
He'd planned to find David first, to discuss speeding up the excavation project at the new facility. The Man of Iron was currently remote-controlling additional servo robots at the overseas location, directing earth-moving operations with inhuman precision.
But at this moment, a single automatic servo robot suddenly detached from its transport team. It rolled toward Nolan with obvious purpose, its treads leaving faint marks on the polished floor.
The construct stopped before him, optical sensors focusing with soft whirs. Then one of its flexible mechanical tentacles extended carefully toward Nolan, moving in deliberate patterns. Sign language, crude but functional.
Nolan squinted, watching the tentacle's movements with focused attention. His knowledge of servo robot sign language was limited but adequate for basic communication.
"Reditus has good news?" he translated slowly, parsing the gestures. "And it plans to show it to me in person?"
The servo robot's optical sensor flashed once in confirmation, a simple yes.
Nolan lowered his head in thought for a moment, considering. Reditus calling him down personally rather than sending a vox message suggested something physical, something that needed to be seen rather than described.
He changed direction without further question, turning toward the foundry section.
"Lead the way," he told the servo robot, though it was already rolling back toward the workshops.
A few minutes later, Nolan entered the casting workshop. The air temperature had gradually returned to normal levels after whatever extreme heat Reditus had been generating recently. The oppressive warmth that usually hung over the space like a physical weight had dissipated, leaving the atmosphere merely warm rather than scorching.
Automatic servo robots passed by him constantly, carrying newly disassembled production lines on reinforced frames. Boxes of equipment and supplies moved in endless streams, each container carefully labeled with contents and destination codes.
Nolan glanced at these mechanical teams moving deeper into the underground passages with their burdens. The procession reminded him of ants relocating their colony, each individual following its programming with absolute dedication.
Then he walked into Reditus's personal casting chamber, the servo skull's inner sanctum where its most important projects took shape.
"Reditus," Nolan said calmly, his voice carrying easily in the vaulted space. "What's the matter with you? The servo robot said you had something to show me."
He narrowed his eyes slightly, studying the servo skull floating near its workbench. The damaged anti-gravity engine had been replaced with a new model, he noticed. The flight pattern was smoother, more stable.
"Lord Primarch!" Reditus's mechanical voice carried unusual enthusiasm as it rotated to face him fully. "After your last profound lesson, after you made your expectations brutally clear, I am no longer the Reditus of the past. I have been reborn from the ashes of failure! Refined in the furnace of your disappointment!"
The servo skull drove its brand-new anti-gravity engine, slowly floating closer to Nolan's position. Its optical sensors still flashed red as always, but the mechanical voice seemed to carry considerably more restraint than usual. Less manic energy. More measured consideration.
"I am still your most loyal Tech-Priest," Reditus added with what might have been genuine sincerity. "And I endeavor to prove that loyalty through superior work rather than mere words."
"Oh?" Nolan raised his eyebrows slightly, interest piqued despite himself. "What a pleasant surprise. This is indeed good news if you've actually internalized that lesson."
He paused, then continued with deliberate skepticism.
"But surely this matter alone isn't worth summoning me down here personally, right? You could have sent that message via vox."
"Ha ha, Lord Primarch, of course it's more than that simple declaration!" Reditus's voice took on an edge of barely contained pride. "After considerable effort, after pushing myself and my remaining servitors to the absolute limits of our capabilities, I finally completed the new flying vehicle you requested! And I finished it before the entire production line had to be relocated to the new facility!"
As Reditus finished speaking with obvious satisfaction, its optical sensors flashing rapidly, something changed in the chamber behind it.
The dust cover shrouding a large object in the corner was quickly pulled away by several Scyllax-class Guardian-automata working in coordination. Fabric billowed briefly before settling.
Then, a flying vehicle more than twenty meters long revealed itself in the workshop's harsh lighting.
The craft's design was immediately striking. Its metal shell had been finished in black with a slightly reflective quality, absorbing light rather than bouncing it back harshly. The overall shape borrowed obvious aesthetic and functional elements from the Quinjet fighters Nolan had seen in his previous life, but adapted and improved with technology the original designers could never have imagined.
Sleek. Aggressive. Purpose-built for both speed and combat capability.
Before Nolan could formulate questions or request specifications, Reditus began its explanation. The servo skull drove its anti-gravity engine to float higher, positioning itself for optimal presentation as it launched into a technical description.
"Lord Primarch, behold! This is the prototype of the dual-powered flying vehicle I've designed according to your requirements. Its endurance is sufficient to allow you to quickly reach any location on the planet without repeatedly loading fuel! The power systems are completely redundant, with backup generators that engage automatically if primary systems fail."
Reditus rotated slowly, its sensors focused intently on Nolan's face as if trying to gauge his reaction.
"If your power armor carries a proper life-support package, sealed against vacuum and radiation, this vehicle can even rush directly into low orbit for limited space missions! Not extended operations, mind you, but sufficient for emergency insertions or rapid extractions from orbital platforms."
The servo skull's enthusiasm built with each specification listed, its voice rising in pitch and speed.
"Moreover, the powerful firepower of the integrated heavy bolter arrays and the twin-linked lascannons can allow it to temporarily fulfill the role of a flying fortress, providing devastating fire support to suppress enemy positions! And if you think that armament is insufficient for a particular mission, you can load additional honeycomb missile launchers at will. The weapon hardpoints are modular, accepting various configurations."
Reditus paused for dramatic effect, letting those impressive capabilities sink in.
"Of course, all of these features are merely the standard capabilities that any competently designed flying vehicle should possess. Nothing revolutionary, just solid engineering principles properly applied."
Its tone shifted, becoming almost conspiratorial.
"But if this prototype must be said to have any truly special characteristics, any feature that elevates it beyond mere functional excellence, it is this: I accidentally discovered fragments of the manufacturing methodology for image reflection shell plating in a corrupted data drive I'd been salvaging. Extremely rare pre-Heresy technology, almost lost to Imperial knowledge!"
Reditus's sensors flashed with excited emphasis.
"In other words, Lord Primarch, the flying vehicle you have before you now can completely disappear from visual observation! True optical camouflage, not merely sensor-baffling chaff or electronic countermeasures!"
As soon as Reditus finished this declaration, it quickly raised one of its mechanical clamps high. The appendage waved up and down in an exaggerated gesture, clearly activating some remote control system.
The next second, something impossible happened.
The huge body of the flying vehicle sitting not far from Nolan's position gradually became blurred at the edges. The sharp lines of its hull softened, then wavered like heat shimmer. Within moments, the entire twenty-meter craft disappeared completely from his sight, vanishing as thoroughly as if it had never existed.
Only the faint distortion in the air, visible if you knew exactly where to look and watched very carefully, betrayed its continued presence.
Nolan stared at the empty space where a multi-ton vehicle had been seconds before, his expression shifting from skeptical to genuinely impressed.
"Well," he said quietly, allowing a small smile to cross his features. "That is actually rather remarkable, Reditus. You've outdone yourself."