Chapter 127: The Joric That Was
With the affairs on Forge World Nexum concluded, Joric began arranging his return to the Death World where the archeotech transporter lay.
His core objectives—ascension to Magos, securing the technology-sharing agreement with Archmagos Vhorx, and finalizing the foundational refit plans for his future flagship, NXS-07—were complete.
His focus naturally shifted to the next phase: returning to the Cyberpunk world.
Although his mobile manufactorum carried the Dimensional Sextant, and theoretically, with sufficient power, he could initiate a transit from anywhere, Joric never considered attempting such an operation on the Forge World.
While Nexum was a frontier world compared to the iron-clad security of Mars, it was still saturated with surveillance nodes and garrisoned by legions of Tech-Priests.
An unauthorized, massive energy discharge or spatial distortion would almost certainly trigger alarms, inviting scrutiny and investigation—the very things he wished to avoid.
In contrast, returning to the isolated Death World ruin, while requiring travel time, maximized operational security and secrecy.
In that desolate, cut-off sanctum, he could conduct his transit experiments undisturbed, moving freely between the two worlds.
The cost in time was a worthy investment.
Before initiating the return voyage, Joric realized he had to address a pressing issue: expanding his core team.
Ignis and her Skitarii Vanguard were loyal and combat-effective, but they were ill-suited for research assistance, technical management, and routine administration.
He needed technical cadres who could comprehend his logic, execute complex directives, and, like Ignis, be entrusted with absolute confidence.
In Mechanicus tradition, such roles were typically filled by apprentices hand-picked and trained by the Magos, or by a direct retinue of Tech-Priests.
These aides came from two main sources: "Vat-grown" servitors or gene-forged acolytes, molded from inception to be loyal tools.
Or, candidates selected from the hive cities or hab-blocks, who rose through brutal competition by virtue of exceptional talent and perseverance to catch a Magos's eye.
Joric himself was a prime example of the latter.
His beginnings were far from auspicious.
As a transmigrator thrust unexpectedly into this world, Joric had first found himself in the family of a lowly manufactorum worker in the depths of a hive city.
His childhood and youth were shrouded in the ceaseless roar of machinery and acrid industrial smog, surrounded by endless rust and numb faces.
In a world where knowledge was strictly controlled, practically monopolized, acquiring true technical understanding was excruciatingly difficult.
Formal education was beyond the reach of a worker's son. Every basic technical manual cost a fortune; every systematic lesson required tuition he could not afford.
Most who labored alongside him on the assembly lines had long since succumbed to apathy, resigned to repeat their monotonous tasks until death.
But Joric, carrying the soul of another world, could not accept that fate.
His thirst for knowledge, far exceeding the norm, became the only flame burning in the dim hive.
After exhausting shifts of mandatory labor, while others dragged their tired bodies to seek cheap entertainment, he dragged his equally weary form to find any means to acquire knowledge.
His primary method was to "audit" the sermons at the local, dilapidated Mechanicus shrine.
Squeezed among the bewildered or pious faithful, he hungrily devoured the simplified, filtered dogma and basic technical knowledge preached by low-ranking Enginseers to the masses.
For the priests, it was routine; for him, it was a precious window into the tip of the iceberg of this vast technological system.
Unable to pay for private tuition, he could only steel himself to approach the priests during the brief intervals after their sermons, posing the questions he had saved up.
The priests were not exactly hostile, but rather professionally indifferent.
They were usually expressionless, their answers brief. Occasionally, they might answer a basic query, but more often, they dismissed him with "that is beyond the scope of the sermon" or "you require systematic study," before ignoring him.
"Another hive-rat trying to change his fate with cleverness." He could almost feel their gaze.
But he did not give up.
Lacking data-slates and textbooks, he used scavenged scrap and metal shards to scratch circuit diagrams and formulas into the dirt floor, relying on memory. Without experimental materials, he distracted himself during work shifts to observe the mechanical structures of the assembly line, simulating their functions in his mind.
His hands were scarred and calloused from constant contact with rough metal and machine oil, but his gaze remained focused, fixed on the distant temple of knowledge, using every possible crack to claw his way upward.
This persistence, meaningless and even laughable to onlookers, lasted for years.
The turning point came on an ordinary day, when a passing Explorator Magos noticed the young man who always lingered in the corner of the shrine, a fire of inquiry burning in his eyes that was utterly at odds with his surroundings.
Perhaps it was the unconventional understanding Joric inadvertently revealed while answering a basic question; perhaps it was the crude but functional signal-amplifier model he had cobbled together from scrap, proving his aptitude and potential.
Regardless, Joric seized the singular opportunity.
Leveraging the fragmented but solid foundation he had built over years, and his undeniable passion, he finally moved the Explorator, earning the coveted qualification—a chance to leave the hive and become a Mechanicus apprentice.
This was merely the first step.
Stepping through the gates of the Mechanicus did not mean an easy ascent.
His lowly origin, his lack of resources, the vast gap between him and the vat-grown or noble-born scions—all were obstacles he had to overcome.
He had to work several times harder than others just to keep up with the curriculum; he had to remain constantly humble and vigilant, finding his footing in complex interpersonal relationships; he had to carefully prove his value in practical exams and factional struggles, all while avoiding becoming a casualty.
Every step was on thin ice. Every promotion was accompanied by sweat and calculation.
He was like a pebble thrown into a massive gear assembly: either be crushed to dust, or find a gap, stubbornly wedge in, and become part of the machine.
This journey from the bottom of the hive had forged his resilient, cautious, and pragmatic character. It also made him understand, better than anyone, how rare and vital a reliable confidant was in the cold, cruel system of the Mechanicus.
(End of Chapter)