In the deafening silence that followed the vanishing of the Ork fleet, the only sound in the forge-cathedral was the soft, ambient hum of the newly-christened Phase-Resonant Array. On the holo-lith, the red tide of icons was gone, replaced by the serene, reassuring green of Ryza's fully operational defense grid. The war was over. The WAAAGH! had been defeated. Not a single Imperial life had been lost. Not a single bolter shell had been fired in defense of the planet.
It was the most complete, absolute, and bloodless victory in the ten-thousand-year history of the Imperium of Man.
And nobody knew how to react.
Admiral Vorl, high in orbit, was demanding a coherent sensor-log from his bridge crew, who could only offer him readings that screamed of impossible physics and a complete lack of enemy life signs. Across Ryza, the Skitarii legions stood down from their battlements, their cogitators trying to reconcile the order to stand down with the fact that the enemy had appeared and disappeared without a single engagement. Whispers and fragmented data-bursts began to spread through the noosphere—the planet's wireless data network—speaking of a divine intervention, a miracle wrought by the Archmagos in the deepest, most holy of forges.
In the forge-cathedral itself, the reaction was far more direct.
Archmagos Dominus Valerius-9-Tane, a being of cold logic and ancient machinery, did something profoundly illogical. He moved before Rimuru, and with the grinding groan of protesting servos and ancient joints, he lowered his massive, cybernetic form into a posture of reverence—as close to kneeling as his body would allow. His many mechadendrites, once tools of analysis and intimidation, now curled inwards in a gesture of supplication.
[Omnissiah's Emissary,] his synthesized voice crackled, stripped of all its previous arrogance and filled with a new, terrifying awe. [You have wielded the holy machine as an extension of your will. You have turned aside the great beast of the void. You have performed the Great Rite of Banishment. The Quest for Knowledge is fulfilled in your presence. We are not worthy.]
The other Magi, witnessing their leader's prostration, followed suit, a wave of clanking metal and whispered binary prayers as the high priests of the machine knelt before the monster king.
Rimuru stared at the scene, feeling a profound sense of awkwardness. He was used to his subordinates in Tempest showing him reverence, but that was born of camaraderie and respect. This was something else entirely. This was raw, fanatical worship, and it made his skin crawl.
"Oh, please, stand up," he said quickly, waving his hands in a placating gesture. "Anyone? It wasn't a miracle. We had a problem, a very large, very green problem. And we had a tool that was designed to manipulate space. We just applied the tool to the problem. It's… it's just advanced science. I'm not a god or an emissary."
His dismissal of the divine, his reduction of the "miracle" to simple problem-solving, did not have the effect he intended. To the Magi, this humility was the ultimate proof of his holiness. Only a true messenger of the Omnissiah would be so casual with their own divine power.
It was Interrogator Kael who finally broke the spell. He stepped forward, his face a pale, unreadable mask that betrayed none of the frantic calculations racing through his mind. He now understood that he wasn't managing a xenos asset. He was managing the birth of a new religion.
"Archmagos," Kael said, his voice a sharp, commanding crack. "The Emissary is not accustomed to the proper rites of veneration. Your gratitude is acknowledged, but your prostration is… inefficient. A more fitting tribute would be to see his holy work completed."
Valerius's logic-engines seized on Kael's command. [Affirmative!] he boomed, rising to his full, intimidating height once more, his fervor now re-channeled. [The final calibration! The sacred device must be made whole! For the Omnissiah!]
The next few hours were a blur of zealous, focused activity. The forge-cathedral became a true hive of worshipful work. Guided by Rimuru's calm instructions, the Magi completed the final connections, their every action now treated as a holy sacrament. They chanted litanies of calibration, anointed conduits with sacred oils, and sang praises to the resonant crystal heart of the machine.
Finally, it was done. The Phase-Resonant Array stood complete, a thirty-meter sphere of perfect adamantium humming with caged power, its crystalline core glowing with a soft, silver-blue light.
"It's ready," Rimuru announced. "Now for the real test."
He placed his hands on the central control lectern, which the Magi had insisted on fashioning into a throne-like altar. Closing his eyes, he connected his consciousness to the device, with Ciel acting as the ultimate operating system. He wasn't looking for a fleet to move; he was searching for a specific dimensional frequency, the unique signature of his home world. The array hummed, and the great crystal pulsed, sending out an infinitesimally small, faster-than-light "ping" into the endless ocean of the multiverse.
For a long moment, there was nothing but the hum of the machine. Then, a single data-point returned.
<
A wave of pure, undiluted relief washed over Rimuru. There was a way back.
<
Rimuru opened his eyes, a new, determined light within them. The path was long, but it was a path. He had a goal. He had hope.
He turned to share the news with Kael and the Archmagos, but was cut off by the sharp, metallic voice of Captain Arken. The Deathwatch Marine had stomped back into the chamber, his helmet held in his hand, his expression grim. He was holding out a data-slate to Kael.
"Interrogator," Arken said, his voice low. "An astropathic message. Priority Inviolate Maxima. From a vessel that has just translated into the system."
Kael took the slate, his eyes scanning the glowing text. His already pale face seemed to lose another shade of color. He looked up, his gaze locking with Rimuru's. The wary respect in his eyes was now overshadowed by a new, far deeper apprehension.
"It seems, King Rimuru," Kael said, his voice barely a whisper, "that your miracle has attracted attention. Lord Inquisitor Varrus, my superior and the master of the Ordo Xenos in this Segmentum, has arrived personally to oversee the next stage of our… partnership."
He paused, the unspoken threat hanging heavy in the air. "The games are over. The true powers of the Imperium have now taken the board."