The Librarium Technologicus was a necropolis of data, a chasm of seemingly infinite depth lined with glowing, crystalline data-stacks.
"This is the summation of Imperial knowledge," the Fabricator-General announced. "Begin your query."
It was an impressive display, and a complete waste of time.
The Monarch closed his eyes, his consciousness expanding through the river of data. It was a vast, shallow ocean. Breadth, but no depth. Nothing on dimensional barriers, metaphysics, or anything that strayed from the rigid, approved doctrines. This was a prison for knowledge.
But as he sifted through the sterile hum, he felt a discordant note. A shadow.
Deep beneath their feet was a space that was silent. A void in the Noosphere, its existence actively erased from the surrounding data-net, shielded by technologies that were not Imperial in origin. It felt ancient, cold, and geometrically perfect.
He opened his eyes. "You have wasted enough of my time. The information I require is not here."
Rask's blue optics narrowed. "All sanctioned knowledge is here. If it is not in this archive, it is heresy."
"The knowledge I seek is in the sealed section," the Monarch continued. "The sub-level vault designated 'Moravec.' The one you do not list in any index."
The reaction was immediate and violent. A wave of pure, horrified fury erupted from the Fabricator-General. The Skitarii raised their galvanic rifles.
"BLASPHEMY!" Rask's vox-caster shrieked. "You speak of the Great Heretek's Folly! That vault is sealed by the will of the Omnissiah! To open it is to unleash the Soulless Sentience, the Abominable Intelligence that sleeps below!"
Valerian and his Custodes moved instantly, forming a golden wall. "Hold your fire! Our orders were to assist the Monarch in his search!"
"The Lord Commander has no authority over the sacred taboos of Mars!" Rask countered.
The Monarch sighed at their tedious squabbling. He turned his attention from the priests and soldiers to the true authority in the room: the master cogitator that governed the entire Librarium. He reached out with his will, speaking pure, original machine language—a stream of silent, flawless logic impressed directly into its core programming.
//CMD: Override_Alpha_Protocol//Auth: Monarch_Absolute//Unseal: Vault_Moravec//
The effect was instantaneous. The humming of the Librarium ceased. A profound, echoing silence fell.
Then, a single, deep, resonant chime echoed from the depths. On the main terminal before a horrified Fabricator-General, a single line of glowing green text appeared in a language no living Magos had ever seen:
With a groan of tortured, ancient metal, a section of the floor far below began to retract, revealing a colossal, circular vault door forged from a black, unidentifiable metal and covered in glowing green geometric patterns. Slowly, with the finality of a tomb opening for the first time in an eon, it began to iris open.
A wave of palpable cold and an eerie, silent, green light washed up from the chasm. It was not the chaotic energy of the Warp, nor the holy light of the Emperor. It was the cold, sterile, and utterly soulless energy of a power far older than humanity.
The Fabricator-General let out a screech of pure, undiluted terror. "The Dragon awakens! The Omnissiah save us!"
The Monarch walked to the edge of the gantry and looked down into the newly opened vault. Valerian and his Custodes stared, their golden armor reflecting the ghostly green light, their faces masks of grim disbelief. They had come to Mars to observe him studying Imperial science.
Instead, he had just awakened a secret buried since before the Imperium was born.