As the towering, opulent doors parted, a vaulted chamber, the likes of which were rarely seen on standard voidships, unfolded before Axion's sensors. The bulkheads were adorned with intricate friezes, depicting a multitude of figures in relief.
Though their specific historical context eluded him, Axion surmised that the crowned, majestic figure dominating the carvings was the Emperor of whom he had heard so much. The countenances of the bowing figures carved into the walls matched the features of the man standing a short distance away.
The Primarchs were the Emperor's scions; logically, only the Emperor could command such veneration and fealty from them.
"Glorious Gene-father, by your will, I have returned with the ancient construct."
Calanthus stepped forward as the doors fully opened, inclining his head deeply before the towering figure at the far end of the hall.
"You have done well, my son."
The voice that answered was stern, yet it carried an undercurrent of genuine pride and encouragement. Calanthus raised his head slightly and moved to stand aside.
From the shadows, two silhouettes, noticeably broader and taller than standard Astartes, fixed their gaze upon Axion and his mechanical guardian. Even in the gloom, their power armor emitted a faint, golden radiance that betrayed their station. These were the Legio Custodes: the Emperor's personal guard, His voice, and the extension of His divine will.
The moment Axion entered the High Strategium, his environmental sensors mapped every occupant in the hall. Aside from the massive Primarch standing at the Great Strategium Table, he detected two high-intensity life signs in the shadows and four of moderate strength.
Roboute Guilliman stood with commanding authority, encased in his cobalt-blue power armor. His visage projected a deep sense of righteousness, a charisma that compelled instinctive trust.
Axion did not approach as Calanthus had. Instead, he remained near the entrance, separated from Guilliman by the ten-meter expanse of the meeting table, and initiated a comprehensive scan of everyone present.
Invisible beams swept across the hall. Just as the sensors were about to wash over the Custodians, the shadows moved.
Clang!
A violent report echoed through the chamber. The Aegis Protector, lunging forward with mechanical preemption, raised its monomolecular blade to intercept a golden Guardian Spear that had been thrust toward Axion's command core.
A Custodian had bounded onto the wide metal surface of the strategium table, leaving two heavy indentations in the deck plating. Utilizing the kinetic force of the parry, the golden warrior leapt into the air, narrowly evading a lateral riposte from the Protector's blade. He executed a precise kick against the flat of the droid's sword to propel himself backward into a mid-air flip.
The Aegis Protector stepped forward, instantly deploying its heavy energy shield.
Thump-thump-thump.
A rhythmic succession of bolt rounds detonated against the barrier. Even while airborne, the Custodian had opened fire, emptying the integral bolter in his Guardian Spear with preternatural accuracy. Though the droid was smaller than the three-meter-tall Custodian, the warrior of the Ten Thousand did not dare underestimate this strange engine of war.
Axion remained indifferent to the skirmish, using the brief engagement to finalize his biological data on the Custodian.
"Refined," Axion observed. "A sophisticated grade of gene-forged soldier, yet further removed from the baseline human template. A hybrid genome... much like a high-performance alloy—complex, but capable of unexpected excellence."
"Enough! Cease this futile combat."
Guilliman's voice cut through the hall, carrying the weight of absolute command. The second Custodian, who had been poised to intervene, twirled his spear into a parade rest and stepped out of the shadows to stand at the Primarch's side. Behind them stood four Ultramarines in Invictarus plate, their helms crested with eagles and their hands resting on heavy boarding shields.
The Custodian who had engaged the Protector leapt back, landing gracefully on the opposite side of the Primarch. The Aegis Protector did not pursue. It retracted into a defensive stance before Axion, its core directive being protection, not pursuit.
Calanthus, watching the exchange, felt his heart hammer against his ribs. He knew Axion had hand-fabricated this machine after leaving the Ork-infested world. That it could slaughter Storm Troopers was expected; that it could trade blows with the Legio Custodes was terrifying.
Clatter.
The sound of metal hitting the floor broke the silence. The Aegis Protector looked down at its right arm with a strangely comical tilt of its head. Its monomolecular blade was notched with a jagged gap; the immense quality of the Guardian Spear's disruption field had compromised the blade's structure. Due to the weapon's extreme density, the damaged tip could no longer support its own weight and had snapped off.
Axion felt a flicker of surprise. While the Protector's chassis was mere "scrap" by his standards, he had not expected this regressive Imperium to possess weaponry capable of easily damaging his handiwork. The fact that a power spear could shear a monomolecular edge suggested that Imperial technology was not entirely devoid of merit.
This did not stop Axion from continuing his analysis.
Guilliman wore the Armour of Fate, a masterpiece of Belisarius Cawl. Unlike the Custodians, who had perceived the scanning rays as a threat, the Armour of Fate's internal logic-engines identified them for what they were.
Biological Probing Ray. Threat Level: Negligible.
Guilliman remained motionless as the light washed over him. He understood that to earn the trust of this entity, a degree of transparency was required. He allowed Axion to complete the scan.
Then a second scan followed. And a third.
The repetitive probing caused Guilliman's expression to shift into one of slight perplexity. "Though I treat you as a guest," the Primarch said, "your conduct borders on the disrespectful."
Axion fixed his glowing optical sensors upon the three-meter giant.
"Fascinating," Axion replied. "Intriguing. Among the biological entities I have encountered, you are the closest approximation to the Creators... and yet, the genetic variance is significant."
Axion paused, his core modules processing at high cycles as he cross-referenced data. Then he spoke again.
"No. Relative to the Creators, you seem to bear a closer resemblance to the Engineers."
Axion's words left Guilliman in a state of bewilderment. Since his resurrection, the Primarch had been plagued by prophecies, cryptic riddles that required immense effort to decipher. But the "Creators" and "Engineers" this ancient construct spoke of felt different. There was no metaphorical veil; Axion was not speaking in parables or omens. He was stating a clinical fact, referencing a history Guilliman did not know.
——————
If you want to read ahead of everyone, go to my pat-reon: pat-re-on.c-om/magnor (remove the hyphen to access normally)
For more free additional chapters, throw some power stones!
100 PS = 1 Chapter.