Chapter 52: The Birth of "Omega the Prodigy"
The weapons and vehicles Omega had scavenged were originally meant to supply several million Astra Militarum troops. Now, concentrated in the hands of a few hundred thousand, they were enough to shock the grizzled grunts.
With the exception of a few units sent to reinforce the hard-hit front lines, most of the "Worker-Soldier" legion was placed under the direct command of Ventris's battle-brothers. The worker-officers lacked command experience, and to catch up with the original battle plan, which they were far behind, this force had to be utilized to its maximum potential.
The Omega-series of heavy infantry weapons proved exceptionally effective in the most dangerous urban warfare. The standard-issue lasguns of the Astra Militarum had limited effectiveness against the living dead, whose only weak point was their heads. In previous battles, the grunts had often been forced into close-quarters combat with the plague-ridden zombies, leading to many infections.
Now, with Omega's RPGs, they could fire a high-explosive round into a horde of zombies, and even if it didn't kill them, it would maim them, making them much easier to deal with. In narrow corridors where vehicles couldn't enter and there were large numbers of zombies, a few men with rocket launchers and recoilless rifles could easily solve the problem. Reconnaissance no longer required men to sneak into the industrial districts. A few circles in a "Falcon" autogyro provided a clear picture. The zombies couldn't fly, so they were helpless.
From the commanders down to the grunts, the Astra Militarum gave the Omega-series of infantry weapons high praise—they were the "gods of urban warfare." The only dissenting voice came from a Techmarine who had studied on Mars. He was incensed by Omega's Promethium-to-electric conversions, but it was just that—incense. It wasn't his place, as an outsider, to meddle in the affairs of the cog-heads.
The combat progress not only caught up with the plan but was now on track to be completed ahead of schedule. The high command of the operation breathed a collective sigh of relief. The tide of the war had turned.
Omega's days at the Grand Manufactorum were quite comfortable. He was practically "stealing" knowledge left and right, successfully upgrading himself from "Omega the Genius" to "Omega the Prodigy." It wasn't that he wanted to show off, but without demonstrating some of his abilities, he wouldn't be granted access to some of the Grand Manufactorum's more advanced technology. And without access, how could he "learn" with joy?
This led Archmagos Veyl to repeatedly exclaim, "I knew I still had untapped 'potential'! My master led me astray!"
"Omega, come and take a look at this technological relic."
"Of course, Magos Lyra. But we have a deal. If I guess right, you have to let me play with it for a few days," Omega replied, running over to the female Magos who had called him.
As mentioned before, due to the overall decline of humanity and the resulting technological schisms, the cog-heads often couldn't figure out the exact purpose of the technological relics they dug up. Hence, the situation of a "nuclear power plant" being used as an "atomic bomb."
During his time at the Grand Manufactorum, Omega had demonstrated a kind of intuitive ability to communicate with the "Machine Spirit," to guess the general function of a technological relic by intuition, providing the Magi with the correct line of inquiry for their reverse-engineering efforts. His only demand was that he be allowed to study it for a period of time, after which he would return it immediately.
It had been difficult at first. But after one Magos, unable to stand Omega's pestering, had given him a technological relic he had already thoroughly studied, and Omega had given him an answer that was identical to his own research findings, and after a few more successful trials, the plan of "trading insights for relics" had become a common practice among the Magi.
Of course, Omega didn't just display his "intuition." He also showed an astonishing "learning ability." Any technology he came into contact with, he could, in a short time, discuss it at a basic level with a Magos who had been studying it for years, and even offer a few novel ideas.
This also confirmed to the Magi of the Grand Manufactorum that Archmagos Veyl, the "crooked melon," had truly produced a "big, round, good melon."
Archmagos Veyl: The power of my bloodline is terrifyingly strong!
Omega followed Magos Lyra into her lab. On the lab bench was a square machine. He took a closer look: a high-tech toaster.
Omega's thought: Hah, the joke has become reality... but isn't a high-tech toaster still just a toaster?
To be fair, the technological level of this "toaster" was truly high. Atomic-level molecular reconstruction technology, capable of directly assembling starch molecules from carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen. It was light-years ahead of the "Bio-Protein Reactor." Its function was bizarre, and its energy consumption was ridiculously high. It was clearly the creation of a "mad tech-priest" in a fit of inspiration. The machine itself was useless, but the technology was brilliant.
Omega pretended to inspect the "toaster" for a long time. "This instrument seems to be able to directly manipulate atoms," he said. He didn't dare to tell the whole truth; it was too absurd. Magos Lyra wouldn't have believed him.
Hearing Omega's selective answer, the brightness of Lyra's electronic eyes increased by several lumens. This answer perfectly matched one of the nearly a hundred hypotheses she had.
"But it seems to have other functions. I can't tell what they are."
"To have come this far is already remarkable. Omega, your talent is truly enviable."
"It is all the grace of the Machine God."
"Omega, would it be convenient for you to tell me what your ability to communicate with the Machine Spirit feels like?" Lyra asked.
"Of course. We are all believers of the Machine God. We should share His grace."
"You are much more generous than your father."
"Heh heh. As for what it feels like... how should I put it? It's like the machine is telling me what it can do. I can't tell if it's the Machine Spirit speaking, or if it's just my own imagination and speculation."
"It is not your imagination," Lyra said with envy. "How could you guess correctly every time? Some people do have a talent for communicating with the Machine Spirit that others do not. And among them, you are one of the best."
Omega's thought: Of course I'm one of the best. If they didn't exist, I wouldn't dare to reveal myself.
"So, Magos Lyra," Omega asked expectantly, "was my answer satisfactory?"
"Yes. Take this relic back and study it. Remember not to damage it, and to share your research findings with me," Lyra said, waving her hand, dismissing the little brat who was about to take her beloved toy.
"No problem, Magos."
No one would have thought that the source of this "Plague of Unbelief," the Plague Prophet Viktor, the mastermind whom all the living on Teyedan wanted to destroy, was now hiding in a secret corner within the Grand Manufactorum's district.
The Plague Prophet's appearance was now completely different from the emaciated zombie he had once been. His body had swollen and bloated with the corrupting power of the Allfather, letting out unintelligible groans. The corroded armor had been burst open by the rapidly growing rotten flesh within. Decayed and discolored organs spilled from his necrotic body. Fangs and long tongues grew from his wounds, and the constantly dripping pus and mucus corroded the ground he walked on into a series of pits.
Nurgle is the Chaos God most directly connected to the plight of mortals, especially humanity's great fear of death. Although Nurgle is the god of disease, decay, despair, destruction, death, and rot, he is also the god of rebirth. Decay is just a part of the cycle of life; without it, no new life can grow. Similarly, Nurgle is also the god of perseverance and survival. Those who endure his blessings will become resilient enough that their undead bodies and the plagues coexisting within them will become the best weapons Nurgle can gift his followers.
Enveloped in a green-brown toxic mist, the Plague Prophet spoke to the former Tech-Priest. "Look at the delightful suffering I have created. In the name of the Allfather, I have brought such rich decay and plague to the desolate Teyedan. But it is not enough. I need more, until I am worthy to go to His garden and be reunited with my family!"
The traitor who had willingly turned to Chaos replied to the monster before him, "Of course, favored child of the Allfather, great Plague Prophet. We will offer the entire world to Him."
"Now, those believers of the false god, the lapdogs of the Corpse-Emperor, are obstructing me. They will not succeed. The fate of this world belonging to the Allfather will not change. But they have caused an obstruction. I need your help now."
The Tech-Priest, who had been secretly studying the malevolent powers of the warp, had long since been corrupted by Chaos. He had abandoned the Machine God and had surrendered to his desires, becoming a follower of Chaos. In his heart, he held nothing but contempt for the fool before him, who had only gained his power and status through a stroke of luck. If it weren't for his plotting behind the scenes, the so-called "Great Work" would have been vaporized by a lance strike long ago. If he hadn't hidden this fool in the most dangerous and therefore safest place, and used his own collection of artifacts to interfere with the Inquisitor's psychic divinations, the so-called "Plague Prophet" would have died countless times already. But Viktor was the one chosen by the Allfather. For the sake of eternal life, for the sake of exploring more of the mysteries of life, the Tech-Priest had to feign submission and help him.
"I have come to see you today, Prophet, to present you with a gift," the Tech-Priest said. As he finished speaking, a servitor behind him pushed what looked like an incubator before Viktor.
"Oh? What is this? What a beautiful wail!" the Plague Prophet exclaimed, his eyes fixed on the incubator.
"This is a xenos artifact I discovered by chance. According to the clues I found at the ruins, the xenos civilization that created it was destroyed by a virus that escaped from this very incubator. Are you satisfied with this gift, Prophet?"
"Hahahaha! Satisfied! I couldn't be more satisfied! With this, the sacrifices will be enough to summon a warp portal directly to the Allfather's garden. My brothers and other family members can descend upon this world and help us complete the great work of offering Teyedan to the Allfather!" the Plague Prophet Viktor said, ecstatic.
"Then I congratulate you in advance on your family reunion, Prophet."
"Hahahaha! I know your purpose. The moment the plague army conquers this world will be the moment your wish is granted."