Gamma had to admit that he had underestimated the power of the rituals created over tens of thousands of years by these tech-obsessed individuals, who were masters of black technology and the mysteries of the human body.
The rituals contained subtle hypnotic suggestions, and if he wasn't careful, he could be thoroughly brainwashed. If his aching waist and throbbing forehead hadn't constantly reminded him that he would collapse if he kept kowtowing, he might have genuinely been swayed.
There was nothing he could do. For the sake of his spinal health and to avoid becoming a fanatic himself, Gamma decided to bite the bullet and ask Father Jacob, the head of the Rune Mech-monks, for a day off, using a ready-made excuse. With his mind made up, he quickly walked over to Jacob.
"Magos Jacob, excuse me for bothering you."
Gamma's main strategy was to be extra polite, calling everyone "Magos," regardless of how well he knew them.
"Oh, it's the little tech-priest. What can I do for you?"
"Uh..."
The words were on the tip of his tongue, but Gamma still hesitated. After all, it was only his first day. What if he angered the Magos and wasn't allowed to come back?
Would he have to resort to his "acting cute technique" again?
Jacob, whose eyes were still human, looked at Gamma's adult-like composure and his "oily" face with an amused smile.
It should be noted that while the Adeptus Mechanicus promotes rationality and mechanical augmentation, low-level Tech-Priests don't have the wealth or technology for extensive modifications. They might only have simple upgrades like prosthetics, bionic eyes, or auxiliary brains. They still possess the emotions of ordinary humans.
However, as followers of the Omnissiah, they prioritize rationality and believe knowledge and machinery are sacred. This, combined with their superior intelligence and knowledge, and the Adeptus Mechanicus's independent social system, leads outsiders to mistakenly believe that Tech-Priests lack humanity. High-ranking Priests, who retain only a fraction of their original bodies, do lose some humanity.
For example, in his memoirs, Commissar Cain mentioned encountering an Archmagos who chose to retain his eating and digestive systems, and even had cooking servitors to prepare delicious food. Magos Lauster, too, had very distinct personal hobbies and emotions.
"I want to... I want to..."
"You want to ask for leave, don't you?" Father Jacob said, finishing Gamma's sentence.
Gamma's eyes widened in surprise. "Yes..."
"Good, that's fine. From now on, you can work one day and rest for four."
"Thank you, Magos, I'm truly grateful."
Jacob waved his hand. "Don't thank me, thank Magos Lauster. Your main task right now is still to learn how to awaken the knowledge in your mind."
Magos Lauster, from now on, I'll consider you my most important benefactor! (Something still felt a little off in his thought process.)
Jacob paused, recalling something, then spoke again: "I was the same on my first day as a Rune Mech-monk. After all, flesh is weak; you really can't get by without a mechanical spine and an alloy forehead."
"Exactly, exactly," Gamma agreed, feeling a cold shiver run down his spine. The Priests with alloy foreheads standing nearby echoed in agreement.
No! I have to run! I absolutely cannot become a Rune Mech-monk when I grow up.
Rune Mech-monks are a type of Tech-Priest responsible for tasks like:
Blessing (acceptance, consecration)
Appeasing machine spirits (troubleshooting, mechanical maintenance)
Purification rituals (repair, modification)
They write runes and chant prayers on new machines during their ignition rituals. They are trained in mystical branches of scientific knowledge, such as "intuitive mechanics" and "improvisation" (which really just means connecting a wire and making do). They are known for their lateral thinking (if you can't solve the problem, skip it).
They are called upon to solve problems when strict logic and standard procedures fail (like when kowtowing according to the manual doesn't work). They are the masters of various machine repairs, the Priests with the hardest kneecaps, the brightest foreheads, and the most developed core strength among all Tech-Priests.
No matter how much Gamma complained internally, he had to continue. After all, the sweet water with industrial sweetener tasted great. He decided he would take it to the library tomorrow so his younger friends, who had never tasted or seen it, could have a try. It was a reward earned by their boss's kowtowing. Who would dare refuse it? He'd execute them with the Mechanical Axe Leg-Breaking Punishment!
The next morning, Gamma appeared in the library, his waist creaking (do children's waists creak?) and his axe in tow. Why did he always bring an axe? He couldn't help it; his friends had made such an impassioned plea for him to do so.
"Ah! I finally see you again. A day without you feels like the Omnissiah has abandoned me."
"Exactly! I even dreamed of It last night!"
Gamma said in exasperation, "You guys are too much. And here I brought you gifts..."
"Did the kid really go earn gears yesterday?"
"What kind of name is 'kid'?"
The local currency on Thedan Forge World was "gear coins," or simply "gears."
"Don't the Priests all call you 'little Tech-priest'? So we'll call you 'Gear Boy'."
Gamma's face went pale with fright. They know about the salary incident!
"What! You all know already? Which Priest is so gossipy!"
"Know what?"
"Uh... don't ask too much about matters between Priests."
"Oh..."
Please don't call me childish. Gamma thought. Acting like a boss among these apprentices is a role forced on me by reality!
Due to Gamma's unique nature, none of the Priests in the Mechanical Temple had taken him under their wing, apart from occasionally teasing him. He couldn't expect any of these Frankenstein-like figures to truly care for him; not starving to death was their greatest kindness. These apprentices were Gamma's only source of interaction and information. Of course, most of the news from the apprentices was outdated and questionable.
For example, they told a story that years ago, when Archmagos Will was inspecting a great factory, he became so disgusted by the workers' shaved heads that he ordered his fleet to conduct an orbital bombardment of the entire industrial zone. This led to an unwritten rule: no bald heads allowed in any factory on Thedan Forge World.
However, some news was useful, like information about the black market. Some workers would steal and sell damaged parts on the black market. At the same time, some crew members and soldiers traveling to and from the Forge World would trade weapons to black marketeers. The black marketeers would also sell contraband prohibited by Imperial law: powerful hallucinogens, high-explosive bombs, bolt guns, and viruses. It was said that the source of these prohibited items was a group of Tech-Priests led by Archmagos Will.
Gamma commented, "Of course. How can you have a business without someone at the top? It's just a black operation. As expected, people's eyes are sharp everywhere. They immediately exposed the mastermind."
There were various types of news, which you'll learn about slowly as you follow Gamma's journey.
The factories in Magos Lauster's district produced conventional weapons like lasguns, not "rad-weapons" with strong radiation used by the Adeptus Ministorum. The families living in this safe industrial zone were all specially privileged people; members of their families had been selected to become Adeptus Ministorum.
But don't expect the Forge World to give benefits like military pay to the Adeptus Ministorum. When they are selected and modified, all that remains is absolute loyalty and fervent faith in the Omnissiah.
Unlike Tech-Priests who see themselves as servants of the Omnissiah, the Adeptus Ministorum see themselves as tools of the Omnissiah. Their faith and modifications mean that they care almost nothing about what they are doing; they only care about completing their tasks, because completing tasks from the Priests is serving the will of the Omnissiah.
Even when facing death, their only thought is to upload their damage data to the unseen Sages above, so that the Sages can gain knowledge from their deaths to advance the great progress of the Omnissiah. The moment they are chosen to become Adeptus Ministorum, that person is already dead in a sense.
Slave laborers are still slave laborers, unless a family member becomes a Tech-Priest. But even then, they only get to be an ordinary worker with a meager salary, able to buy food instead of eating the unidentifiable, strange-smelling nutrient gruel squeezed from warehouse pipes.
You say life shouldn't be like this!
Then the Archmagos asks you, "Are you still the Omnissiah's good little treasure? Say it, are you or aren't you!"
In summary, perhaps it was due to loneliness, or a need for change, or pity. When Gamma proactively began interpreting scattered knowledge from the classics for the apprentices, his position in their hearts was established.
"More gifts?" someone among the apprentices exclaimed. Gamma recognized it as Annie, the little girl (who was taller than Gamma).
Not keeping them in suspense, Gamma pulled out two cans and a bag of sweetener from his robe and held them high. "Worship! This is real food!"
"Wow..."
The two Grox meat cans were shared by eight apprentices of varying sizes. The industrial sweetener mixed with purified water from the temple meant everyone in the library, including those not yet apprentices, could drink until they were full. There was still more than half a bag left, which Gamma told them to divide and take home, eliciting another round of cheers.
It must be said that the class disparity on the Forge World was so vast that even after a month of transmigrating, Gamma still found it hard to believe. For example, one day of kowtowing earned him more than an ordinary worker earned in half a month. Now he could have meat cans for three meals a day, work one day, and play four, which was one day more than the Sanhe Great God. Truly, a Tech-Priest's knees have true gold underneath them.
Days passed, kowtowing, reading, reading, reading, and kowtowing, in a continuous cycle. But Gamma always felt like something was missing. What exactly was it?
It wasn't until the night of the "Hundred-Day Banquet" that Gamma and his apprentices "luxuriously" threw for themselves that he realized what it was.
"Omnissiah, where is my dignity? Where did my dignity go?"