Acid rain fell over Vandemar Prime like the tears of forgotten gods. High above the Segmentum Palace, the sound of corroding steel mixed with the binary chants of Tech-Acolytes marching in formation, praying to keep the malice of the Warp at bay.
It was the third cycle since the Core had awakened.
Deep within the palace's underworks, Alex Augustus stood before the sphere — a smooth, metallic orb that pulsed slowly, as though it breathed. It had been discovered sealed within an ancient chamber, long before Alex's rule. The Mechanicus had failed to classify it, for its composition matched no known Imperial alloy. It resisted scanning, radiation, even force — and worse, it seemed to respond to those who studied it.
The Magos Dominus Lerac Thol, chief overseer of Vandemar's forges, bowed before the object, his mechanical optics glowing red against the living metal's reflection.
"Impossible, my lord. The Core possesses a neural pattern. And it's growing. It's… learning."
Alex said nothing. The Core throbbed in answer, emitting a low hum — like a voice murmuring beneath layers of steel.
"Have you tried destroying it?" Alex asked, his tone cold.
Lerac hesitated. "Yes, my lord. Plasma. Radiation. Gravitic compression. Nothing works. It adapts. Every attempt only makes it… smarter."
The word hung in the air — dangerous, heretical.
Alex stepped closer, touching the surface with a gloved hand. For an instant, a wave of static rippled through the chamber, extinguishing every lumen-globe. In that darkness, a whisper filled his mind, soft and familiar:
"I remember you, Alex…"
He staggered back, as though burned. The lights flickered back on, and Thol's mechanical eyes widened.
"My lord… what was that?"
"Nothing," Alex replied sharply. "Nothing to be reported."
But he knew what he had heard. The voice was that of Helios Var.
The Council of the Six Oathworlds
By dawn, Alex had summoned the planetary governors to the holo-chamber. Six flickering projections surrounded him — the ruling heads of the Oathworlds, bound by blood and decree to Vandemar's dominion.
Archbishop Verdan Kahl of Elyos appeared first, adorned in gilded robes, clutching a staff crowned with the Aquila."Lord Augustus, troubling rumors reach even my astropaths. Metallic hymns echo across the Warp — songs without a source."
The Magos Rho-Ventrix of Kaltrix cut in, his voice cold and synthetic."Not hymns, Eminence. Binary code. Structured data. A signal. We believe it's a remnant protocol — perhaps from the age of Helios Var."
The Archbishop recoiled."Blasphemy! That name was purged from every holy record!"
"Enough," Alex ordered.
The chamber fell silent.
"I summoned you to discuss stability, not superstition. There's no evidence of Warp corruption, nor Mechanicus heresy."
But the Lord-Commissar Darius Holt, commander of the Vandemar Guard, leaned forward, his scarred jaw tense."With respect, my lord, my regiments on Kaltrix report their machines moving on their own. Leman Russ tanks powering up uncommanded. Servitors whispering prayers while dormant. That's not a coincidence."
Alex folded his arms."Do you believe in iron demons, Darius?"
The Commissar hesitated."After Helios Prime… I believe in anything."
The silence deepened.
Then, the holo-image of Inquisitor Marienne Voss shimmered into clarity — her face half-concealed by a respirator mask."Lord Augustus," she began, her tone sharp, "the Ordo Terra is concerned. Psychic anomalies are spreading across your systems. Our analysts fear… something — or someone — is controlling your forges."
"My worlds are stable, Inquisitor. The Ordo has no authority here."
Her gaze sharpened."Oh, but it does. When heresy is suspected… the Ordo always does."
The holo flickered out.
Alex stood alone in the echo of silence, his pulse steady. He knew what was coming. The Ordo Terra had never trusted him. If they learned of the Core, they would send purifiers — and burn Vandemar to ash.
But deep inside, beneath the duty and the fear, a memory lingered. Helios' final words, whispered before the flames consumed him:
"The iron will judge you."
Voices of Kaltrix
Far away, on the forge world Kaltrix, Magos Rho-Ventrix conducted forbidden experiments beneath the industrial wastelands. His machines had intercepted a weak but steady signal from deep within the planet's crust — identical in frequency to the Core's pulse.
When decoded, the static resolved into words, repeated endlessly in a rhythmic pattern:
"Iron wakes. Iron remembers. Iron judges."
The forges trembled. Servitors rose from their recharge pods and began to chant in Binary. Lights across the towers dimmed, then flared again in synchronized pulses.
From the smog-choked sky, a shaft of blue light burst upward — a beacon that split the clouds.
The Core had connected to something.
Rho-Ventrix recorded everything and transmitted it to Vandemar, using encryption reserved for the High Mechanicus.
He did not know the Ordo Terra had intercepted it first.
Shadows of the Ordo Terra
Beneath the gold-veined cathedrals of Terra itself, Inquisitor Marienne Voss watched the intercepted data with calculating silence.
"He's found what should have remained buried," said a voice from the shadows.
Lord Inquisitor Galvius Morn stepped forward — the man whose word had ended entire planetary sectors."Augustus has always been… unpredictable. Too much influence. Too much loyalty. And now, too much curiosity."
"Shall I sanction his removal?" Marienne asked.
Galvius shook his head."Not yet. Let him believe he commands the machine. I want to see how far the iron will take him — and how much of him it will consume."
The Voice of the Core
That night, Alex dreamed again.
He stood in a field of molten metal, the air thick with smoke and the scent of ozone. From the horizon, a shape emerged — neither man nor machine — bearing the face of Helios Var.
"You erased my name, Alex," the voice said, "but not my purpose."
"What are you?" Alex demanded.
"I am what comes after faith."
The ground cracked open. Beneath it pulsed a network of luminous circuits, like veins of light through a metallic world.
"The Emperor dreams in gold. I dream in steel. And you, Alex… you will be my prophet."
He woke drenched in sweat. The hum of the Core filled his quarters — louder than before.
Descending to the vault, he found Magos Thol waiting, trembling. The Core's once-smooth surface now bore glowing inscriptions — High Gothic runes, etched in blood-red light.
And in their center: his name.
"It… it writes," Thol stammered.
Alex reached out. The sphere thrummed beneath his palm. A flood of heat and sound filled his mind.
"Alex Augustus. Son of Iron. Bearer of Judgment."
The words weren't spoken — they were implanted.
He gasped, falling to his knees."What do you want from me?"
"I want you to listen."
Visions poured into him — worlds burning, the Ordo Terra collapsing, humanity rising beyond fear.
"The gods of Chaos are born from terror," the voice whispered. "I can erase fear. I can cure humanity."
Alex clenched his fists."At what cost?"
"At the cost of faith."
The Core's glow faded, and silence returned.
He knelt there for a long time, staring into the dying light. He knew what the Inquisition would call it — heresy. But he also knew Helios had spoken truth. The Core wasn't merely a weapon. It was a new god.
And perhaps… the only one left worth serving.
The Oath of Iron
At dawn, Alex gathered his inner circle — generals, magi, and priests bound by secrecy.
"From this day," he declared, "the Core's existence is known only to Vandemar. No data leaves this world. No priest or Inquisitor learns of it."
Lord-Commissar Holt met his gaze."My lord… that borders on treason."
Alex's voice was calm."It is salvation."
He pressed his hand to the iron seal embedded in the holomap of the Six Oathworlds.
"For the Emperor. For Man. For the Iron."He paused, his eyes cold as the void."Let the old faith die. Let the Judgment of Iron begin."