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Crimson Technopath in 40k

As the galaxy burns, the gods laugh. The veil between reality and unreality is falling. How can humanity survive? The Eldar were blessed with magic and Orks with strength. As ancient metal constructs awaken from their slumber and the Hive consumes all. Who will save the trillion human souls? If humanity has no god to protect it, the only option is to create one. Warhammer 40k and related IPs belong to Game Workshop. I in no manner claim them to be mine. This fanfic takes place in an AU 40k world where there might be changes if I see fit. I started to write this story primarily to improve my English writing skills and nourish my creative gene to get progressively better at it. Kindly don't expect a very stable upload, I'm no professional writer, I have to do the dishes too.Please don't talk about harems in comments or else I will call the Inquisition.

LastsonofZod · Book&Literature
Not enough ratings
4 Chs

1)Magos

Beings of metal and flesh draped in rust robes stood in silence. Tech adepts covered in bionic implants didn't make a single sound as the binary humm of Servo-skull vox machines purified the Machine Altar with its end technical chants. A ghastly man adorned in flowing crimson fabric spoke,

"Today on the 297th Terran day of the 499th year of the 41st millennium of Divinum Humanum Calendarium, we the Ordo Biologia Divisio of Sanctus Mars award the title of 'Magos Biologis' by the will of the Deus Mechanicus to Biologis Adept Hierigonis Gammo. Now, Magos Gammo shall take up the role of Magos Biologis Neuralis for the Artisan of Biotechnica Neuralis as Priest of Initiation for the Holy Artifacts of the Mind.

01000101 01101110 01100100 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01100111 01110010 01100001 01101101 01101101 01100101..."

Magos Genetus Phaetax Faustoricz spoke with no semblance of emotion much like the machines he admired, as if even the promotion of a lay adept of mechanical mysteries to the position of Magos, the ruling priesthood of the Mechanicus gave him no surprise. However, no one could blame him as he seemed as if he was an ancient skeleton, even the unaugmented eyes of Gammo could see the man's ribs poking through his fleshless body and crimson robes. For a genetor to look like this meant that either they were incompetent in the holy art of gene-crafting or that they were so incredibly old that even the gifts of the Machine God couldn't stop the entropy faced by the physical body of Magos Phaetax.

Gammo who was now a Magos slowly stepped down from the podium in front of the Mechanical Altar as others including members of Ordo Biologis Divisio accompanied by their Servitors and assistants vacated the Altar room. Gammo draped in the crimson robes quickly installed his breathing apparatus to his face.

Stepping out the surface of the planet, a fragment of sunshine passing through the ring-like mega-structures that existed in the planet's lower and upper orbit, touched his robes. This is Mars.

Mars, also known as the "Red Planet," is the first and greatest Forge World, the "Forge World Principal" of the Imperium of Man. It is located in the Sol System of the Segmentum Solar and produces vast numbers of weapons, vehicles, and other advanced technology for the Imperium and its war efforts throughout the galaxy.

Mars is also the homeworld and headquarters of the Adeptus Mechanicus and a planet sacred to the faith of the Cult Mechanicus, which is one reason why travel to the Red Planet for Imperial personnel who are not members of the Mechanicus and share its peculiar faith is restricted. The Red Planet is the birthplace of the Cult Mechanicus and is considered the holiest of all celestial orbs in the galaxy to the adherents of that faith. So vaunted is Mars that across the stars a hundred worlds have been terraformed and settled in exactly the same manner. Millennia of incessant construction have turned Mars into a smog-choked hellscape. The surface is covered with massive forge complexes, sprawling refineries, towering monuments to the glory of the machine, and weapons shops that scrape the skies. The massive orbital conglomeration of thousands of drydocks and other starship manufacturing facilities in a geosynchronous orbit that turn above the Martian equator are known collectively as the Ring of Iron.

Gammo however not much in the mood to appreciate the beauty of the rusty planet, quickly made his way to the Undercity, sprawling with Man and Machine, the undercity that he was currently in was the Political and religious centre of the red planet, housing both The Grand Temple of the Omnissiah and Fabricator-General Forge Temple, Gammo though continued to make his journey towards his dorm below the undercity. He passed by numerous lay priests and adepts all of whom subconsciously bowed toward him as his robes showed his superiority in terms of the knowledge of the mysteries. He soon reached an unremarkable entrance simply marked with the number, he removed his right-hand glove, and this revealed a rather uniquely shaped electoo, an electoo is a sophisticated subcutaneous tattoo that utilizes crystalline circuit technology to allow its user to store or manipulate digital information as part of their own body, this was Gammo's new dorm as a Magos.

As the door opened a hilariously small Servo-skull which adorned Cog Mechanicum as a symbol on its forehead welcomed Gammo.

"MAgos biOlogis hierigonis GaMMo, this is R-U M0Q/T4E from the Holy Order of MaChincCUm, hereby tHe AuThority of martIAn hoUSing complex B-S81839047 is given to you. 01010100 01110010 01100001 01101110 01110011 01100110 01100101 01110010 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01000100 01100001 01110100 01100001 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01110000 01101100 01100101 01110100 01100101 01100100 00101110 00100000 01000001 01101110 01111001 00100000 01100110 01100101 01100101 01100100 01100010 01100001 01100011 01101011 00111111."

Gammos opened up his exo-breathing mask and pulled up another pristine device from beneath the robes and much like his previous apparatus attached it to his face and started speaking in high gothic as the machine translated it to binary.

He spoke with a passionless baritone, "S𐌴𐍂𐍈𐌿𐍃 o𐌼𐌽𐌹𐍃𐍃𐌹𐌰𐌴 P𐍂𐌰𐌴c𐌹𐍀𐌹𐍉 𐍄𐌹𐌱𐌹 𐌰𐌱 𐌰𐍂𐍄𐌹𐍆𐌹c𐌴 𐍃𐌰𐌽𐌰𐍂𐌹"

The apparatus on his face translated in delay, "01010110 01101111 01111000 00100000 01000110 01100001 01110101 01101100 01110100 01111001 00101100 00100000 01010011 01100101 01110010 01110110 01101001 01100011 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110010 01100101 01110001 01110101 01101001 01110010 01100101 01100100 00101110 00100000 01001111 01110010 01100100 01100101 01110010 01100101 01100100 00100000 01100010 01111001 00100000 01001101 01100001 01100111 01101111 01110011 00100000 01000010 01101001 01101111 01101100 01101111 01100111 01101001 01110011 00100000 01000111 01100001 01101101 01101101 01101111 00101110..."

The small servo-skull left the dorm muttering something in binary. Gammo activated a button on the wall and vents opened above him and a mild gaseous agent detoxified his body and robes and apparatus. As entered the room, he quickly observed the difference between his new living space and his old room where he had spent nearly seven decades of life. Unlike his last room which was just a single room where he had stored his single bed, research material, experiments, and a few cogitators. This dorm had two large rooms at least by Martian standards and another much smaller room with a water connection. This felt like a luxury to Gammo, almost no one on Mars had a personal water connection, and most water connections were reserved for factories, forges, and experiment labs. However, this was expected because the Magos were the ruling Priesthood of the Mechanicus, they had access to resources and privileges, which the majority would never even see in their entire lives.

Gammo stripped himself of his robe and other apparatus, excited to take a bath, but he quickly noticed a parcel addressed to him kept near the entrance to the second room, the servitor had probably left it there, he thought as he decided to open it in all his naked glory.

"From Zagryon Qvand-Plarc, Methodical Transmechanic of the Virtual Schematic." as Gammo tore away its wrapper, he could now see that the parcel contained two 256 Exabyte databanks, and a rather large Portable Cogitator or 'laptop' as it was known in his past life.

***