Chapter 263: Tech Points
In truth, while these Tech-Priests might swindle and fleece off-worlders, when it came to the Death Guard they still maintained a certain professional decorum.
This was most clearly reflected in their policy of transparency toward the legion—and their personal tributes to Hades himself.
The priests of Mint, acting in their own names, had scraped together resources and presented Hades with eight Castellax-class Battle-Automata.
Why eight? Because according to regulations, once a unit of five was declared, it had to be officially registered as a squad. That meant restricted usage rights and mandatory oversight. By handing over four Battle-Automata… and then another four Battle-Automata, the priests neatly avoided such bureaucracy.
And why not twelve? Simply because this was all they could scrounge up. Graia was not a primary production center for Battle-Automata, so these weren't manufactured locally. As for how exactly the priests had acquired them—Hades wisely chose not to ask.
He did pause for a moment, uneasy with the number… but shrugged it off. As long as it wasn't seven, any other number was acceptable.
Incidentally, one of the few Forge Worlds capable of producing Castellax-class Battle-Automata was Zhao-Arkhad. Hades reasonably suspected that Graia and Arkhad had been making certain private arrangements.
His eyes swept over the Battle-Automata being rolled out before him. Towering three men high, these machine-warriors gleamed with a heavy yet lethal presence.
The rules of the 30k era were not yet as strict as they would become in 40k. These Battle-Automata were still relatively capable—not the mindless husks they would later be reduced to. The Crimson Accord forbade true AI, yes, but its prohibition was aimed at strong artificial intelligence. These units, whose logic-systems were fused with quasi-organic wetware, straddled the line. To label them as "AI" was not entirely accurate.
Still, it was more than enough to arouse suspicion. Which was why such Battle-Automata were never entirely welcome on the battlefield.
By regulation, Battle-Automata had to operate under the Mechanicum's Legio Cybernetica. Of course, some Legions did deploy them in strength—such as the Iron Warriors and the Iron Hands. Even the Thousand Sons maintained small, secret cohorts.
Within the Great Crusade, most Battle-Automata were Castellax-class, like the batch now presented to Hades—though these carried a number of personalized modifications.
Their shoulders bore oversized heavy-bolter cannons for long-range bombardment. Each forearm mounted large-caliber bolters, while one hand wielded a shock projector capable of unleashing electrical detonations strong enough to rupture enemy organs.
As for the other hand… Hades eyed the faintly green-glowing, gear-shaped cutting implement.
He decided against commenting.
At their center, the servo-skulls embedded in their torsos housed powerful reconnaissance arrays, providing auxiliary battlefield awareness for their controller.
The priests had already painted them deep black, with faint moss-green edging—like creeping lichen—radiating that distinctive aura of decay so characteristic of the Death Guard.
And the modifications didn't end there.
One priest stepped forward, bowing deeply like an actor upon a stage.
At his motion, the Battle-Automata's central servo-skull flipped upward, revealing—
An empty core.
These machines had not been fitted with organic wetware.
"Lord Hades," the priest said cryptically, "as for this matter… perhaps you have better arrangements in mind."
His tone was deliberately vague.
"We are well aware of your… uniqueness. These Battle-Automata are Mint's gift of gratitude to you. Thus, we made certain customized alterations, in hopes they may serve you better. We trust that your discerning eye can see the effort we have poured into them."
At the edge of Hades' vision glimmered that faint green glow. The corner of his eye twitched ever so slightly.
"But of course, my lord, we know this alone is not enough. Within these Battle-Automata, we have equipped two additional mechanisms. The first: a one-use, high-power ion shield generator. By sacrificing sustainability, it can project an extraordinarily strong defensive field—capable of withstanding concentrated, high-saturation strikes."
"Should you ever need it, they will serve as your most loyal shield."
"The second: a self-detonation trigger. At your command, these Battle-Automata may unleash their final function at the critical moment."
Standing before the towering machine, Hades stroked his chin. These cogboys clearly had at least a vague grasp of his Black Domain. These machines were very likely prepared with him specifically in mind.
He reached out and tapped the armor plating. Dong, dong, dong. A dull, heavy echo reverberated from within the steel frame.
Ordinary wetware cores—especially logic matrices—could never withstand the corrosive effect of his Black Domain.
These priests probably suspected as much.
They likely knew about Raibo's existence as well; after all, Graia had provided prototypes for Knight-class engines in the past.
Noticing Hades' interest in the Battle-Automata, the Archmagos wrung his hands, the glow-lamps on his face flashing excitedly.
"In truth, my lord, there are… a few words I would speak, if you would hear them."
Hades, still absorbed in examining the machines, gave only a distracted grunt of acknowledgment. He didn't even bother to register the priest's nervous eagerness.
"When we modified these Battle-Automata, we petitioned the Death Guard for permission to establish a temporary base on Barbarus. Approval was granted. It was there that we completed their refits—and installed the ion shield generators."
Hades nodded absently. He already knew that—they had built a makeshift laboratory at the foot of the Black Towers—
—Wait.
A beat later, the thought struck him. His expression stiffened. Slowly, almost fearfully, he turned his gaze upon the Archmagos.
"If I recall correctly… creatures near the Black Towers suffer discomfort."
The last time he had unleashed the Black Domain too heavily, it had left residues clinging to those towers. As a result, almost no one dared approach them anymore.
Yet the glow-lamps across the Archmagos' face still flickered with excitement.
"No, my lord. That is—ah—that is merely our… preference. In those places, we have attempted certain alterations. Certain… efforts to restore the true principles of the universe."
Normally, when Tech-Priests spoke of "restoring universal truth" or "rekindling the wisdom of the Omnissiah," what they really meant was innovation.
But in a galaxy where Tzeentch and Vashtorr truly existed, innovation was dangerous—vulnerable to corruption. That was precisely why, on the surface at least, the Mechanicum outlawed it.
And yet… they had been conducting these experiments beneath the Black Towers.
In practice, aboard the Endurance, Korklan oversaw similar research. His laboratories were perpetually staffed with blanks, and Hades often visited to purge corruption himself.
He weighed this thought carefully.
Then he leaned forward, bringing his face close to the Archmagos' metallic visage. The priest's lamps blinked ever faster.
Narrowing his eyes, Hades locked onto the Magos' ocular lenses and spoke in a low, rasping voice, barely above a whisper:
"I expect you to know your limits. Do not stray into heresy."
"M-my lord, are you ordering us to—"
Hades pressed a finger against the Magos' vox-emitter, silencing him.
"All of your activities are to be reported directly to me. If the discomfort caused by the Black Towers' begins to lessen… you are to cease everything at once."
The final byte of his words hung in the air.
And then, as if nothing had happened, Hades straightened up, returning to his earlier, casual stance—admiring the Battle-Automata like before.
The Archmagos shuddered, then bent low in a deep bow.
"Understood, my lord."
Hades gave no reply. He simply continued to study the machines.
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