Chapter 51: Young Master Omega
The bizarre scene, a mixture of chaos and silence, was all of Archmagos Veyl's doing.
The silence came from the visiting guests.
Ventris: By my Primarch father, I have learned something new today.
Griffin: Where am I? Who am I? Who is the son? By my Emperor, could this be a plot of Chaos?
Alaric: Old, but still vigorous! Old, but still vigorous!
The Manufactorum Magi: What is real? What in the warp is real?!
The chaos came from Magos Laust and his group. The moment the Archmagos finished speaking, a Magos lunged at the still-stunned Laust, grabbed him by the collar, and roared, "We swore to share weal and woe, to be brothers for life! And the moment you get in with the Archmagos, you forget all our oaths! You've kept this from us for so long! If you had a way in, why didn't you help a brother out?!"
"Laust, how could you do this to us?!"
But if there was anyone in the chaos who knew how to play the game, it was the one who had been tempered by the Imperial bureaucracy—Chief of Staff Douglas. He was familiar with this scene. Wasn't it just the classic "noble in disguise" trope? He had seen it countless times before. He knew exactly what to do. He raised his hands and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Long live Archmagos Veyl!"
＼(`Δ』)／
The crowd immediately began to imitate him. "Long live Archmagos Veyl!"
＼(Δ』)／＼(Δ』)／＼(Δ』)／＼(Δ』)／
Omega's thought: Is this old fox really this shameless? Does he need to go to such lengths just to absorb my forces? Have I lost my memory, or did some perverted cog-head violate the steel womb of a vitae-womb?
He looked around. From Laust, he saw bewilderment. From the chaotic Magi, he saw jealousy. From the Manufactorum Magi, he saw shock. From the visiting guests, he saw amusement. From the priests in the crowd, he saw "what the scrap." And from Veyl, he saw "call me dad..."
(´ﾟжﾟ｀) Omega.
To be or not to be was a question. To call him dad or not to call him dad was also a question. And Omega was currently stumped by the second one.
"I know this is difficult for you to accept. You may continue to address me as Archmagos."
Phew... Omega breathed a sigh of relief.
"But you must now call me 'Father'!"
So this is what it feels like to be forced into prostitution, Omega thought. Then again, it was just acknowledging a foster father. If it made him uncomfortable, he could just think of Lu Bu. I have drifted for half my life, only regretting that I had not met a worthy master. If Lord Veyl will not abandon me, I am willing to acknowledge you as my foster father!
With a thud, Omega fell to his knees, pushed down a golden mountain, toppled a jade pillar, and, channeling some ancient opera, cried out, "Father, please accept this child's bow. I pay my respects to you!"
Veyl's thought: This child is just like me, so perceptive. His attitude is so sincere. It's just... his way of speaking is a bit strange. He must be too excited.
What happened next is not worth detailing. In short, it was a scene of fatherly love and filial piety, and everyone was happy. Except for the "Catachan salad," which everyone was a bit hesitant about, the trip was a great success.
The Archmagos had originally wanted Omega to return with him to the Grand Manufactorum, but Omega, not wanting to go, used the excuse that the settlement couldn't do without him for now. He said he would go and be with his "dad" after he had handed over his duties. Before leaving, the Archmagos explained the truth of his parentage, and Omega's expression at that moment was difficult to describe.
"Young Master Omega, I will be sure to complete the tasks you have assigned."
Omega rolled his eyes at the sycophantic Magos. "Magos, can you not? Magos Laust has already explained everything to me. I'm not angry anymore. Can we just go back to the way things were?"
The Magos who was taking over Omega's former duties praised Omega while dissing Laust. "Young Master Omega is as magnanimous and approachable as ever. If it weren't for that shameless Laust, we would never have done such a thing!"
Omega's thought: That's enough out of you. You used to complain about the Manufactorum Magi sucking up to the Archmagos. Was it because you were angry that you didn't have the chance to do it yourself?
Laust's reputation among his circle of friends was now in ruins. His years of accumulated credibility had been wiped clean, into the negative. No explanation would help now. Even Rhea, on this matter, looked at her father with eyes that said, "How could you hide this even from me?" If Omega hadn't stepped in to explain, Rhea, after her initial disappointment at her father's lack of trust, might have brought home a "yellow-haired cog-head."
Some Magi had even publicly, on more than one occasion, been sarcastic about Laust: "Laust didn't lie to us. Didn't he always tell us 'he was issued from the Grand Manufactorum'? He just left out the part 'received from the hands of the Archmagos.' How can you call that deceit? Right?"
Omega and Laust were now the two most speechless, and also the two most mutually understanding, people in the settlement. When they met now, they didn't speak. They would just look at each other, sigh, and lament the fickleness of fate.
Rhea, Jacob, Louis, Aedus, and Paul were now the envy of the other priests. Thankfully, they trusted Omega the most. After hearing his explanation, aside from a major shock to their system, their relationship with him was no different than before. It was just that this shock was a bit bigger, and the recovery time was much slower than the previous times.
The Worker-Soldier legion was now in high spirits, eager to find the mastermind behind the plague zombie horde and chop him into mincemeat. A great future awaited them. Who had time to waste on the living dead?
Omega could also see that his "new dad" was playing a game of two birds with one stone. No matter how awkward he felt, for the sake of everyone, he, the "prince," had to "marry himself off." Being difficult wouldn't do anyone any good. He would just resign himself to being the biggest "second-generation heir" on the Forge World. Everyone would have a bright future.
The underground ruins had been temporarily sealed by Veyl's order, to be "excavated" after peace was restored. Laust and the others didn't dare to say a word. The Archmagos's power and status were one thing; the other was that the ruins were on Teyedan. Its legal owner was Veyl. He had already shown mercy by not pursuing their theft.
"Magos, we have handed over everything we were supposed to. The Orks underground have been annihilated, but we still need to send people to clean up regularly. Most of the legion will be sent out to fight. A small portion will have to maintain the factories and clear out the Orks. The pressure will be great. You must be extra careful," Omega said, emphasizing the only unstable factor in the settlement.
"Don't worry, Young Master Omega!"
Omega ╮(￣⊿￣)╭ Whatever. Call me what you want...
With the handover complete and his mindset adjusted, Omega prepared to depart for the Grand Manufactorum to be a second-generation heir. Accompanying him were Laust and his group, half of Rhea's priests, and most of the Worker-Soldier legion. Several hundred thousand people marched across the desolate, radioactive wasteland of Teyedan, heading for the Grand Manufactorum.
Gray had been in the Astra Militarum for a few years now. His excellent survival skills had kept him alive in several meat-grinder battles, making him the longest-serving veteran in his regiment. The reason he hadn't even made it to platoon commander was that his survival skills were too good. He had even dodged the bullet of a Commissar who wanted to "kill a chicken to scare the monkeys." The Commissar had wanted to take another shot, but the Colonel had stopped him, saying that although Gray was shameless and cowardly, he was experienced, and keeping him alive was still useful to the Emperor. And so Gray, who had been kneeling on the ground with his arms held, had been spared from having his head blown off by the bolt pistol pressed against his forehead.
Ever since that escape, Gray had even started to fantasize about surviving the Astra Militarum and retiring with a pension. But since coming to Teyedan, he had stopped thinking about such impossible things. He felt he would surely die on this Forge World, filled with radiation and poison gas, not to mention the living dead that his lasgun couldn't kill.
"Old Gray, I hear reinforcements are coming!"
Gray, clad in a protective suit and rebreather mask, sneered. "They're just workers from the Forge World. Do you really expect them to be of any help?"
"Well... it's better than nothing, right?"
"I say it would be more practical for them to make a few more protective suits in the factory and produce a few more guns."
"More hands make light work, right?"
"Hah. When they're shooting wildly and running around in a panic when they see the living dead, you won't be thinking that."
"..."
"Listen up, you rookies," Gray warned the new recruits. "When we're in combat, stay far away from them. Don't blame me if you get killed by a stray shot."
"..."
"Didn't you hear me?!"
"Alright, alright, we get it. We'll listen to you."
A bad teammate is more deadly than the enemy. This was one of Gray's 800 rules of battlefield survival. He had no expectations for these workers. But reality often doesn't go as planned, for better or for worse.
Watching the Chimeras, Leman Russes, and Sentinels roll into the camp, the several aerial vehicles circling overhead, and the fact that almost every soldier was armed with a hot-shot lasgun and many other pieces of equipment he'd never seen before, Gray felt that they, the so-called "Hammer of the Emperor," were a little lacking in the "iron" department.
While Gray and his men were gawking at the "Worker-Soldiers," in the center of the camp, in the command post, the foreman-colonel of this worker-soldier regiment was reporting their equipment configuration to the Astra Militarum Colonel and Commissar.
"Colonel Ivan, Commissar Zahn, the contents of my report are on this list. Please, take it."
Colonel Ivan's face lit up as he took the list. He hadn't had much hope for the so-called reinforcements either. As long as they didn't cause him any trouble, it was a blessing from the Emperor. Who would have thought that an armored regiment would show up?
Commissar Zahn poured the foreman a cup of instant coffee. "Fore... Colonel Marvin, thank you very much for your arrival."