Naturally, after accomplishing all this, Adam had no intention of stopping. Simply creating Emperor-class Titans was far from the limit of a Rank 4 Reality Warper.
In essence, his actions were no different from a certain Pope during the Age of Apostasy who used the deflection shields on his rosary beads to fake miracles and trick the Sisters of Battle into serving him. It was all about using miracles that surpassed the observer's understanding to trade for the fanatical faith of followers.
Besides, how should one put it?
After the end of the Unification Wars on Terra, the Master of Mankind had gained the loyalty of the Martian Adeptus Mechanicus with ease by repairing machinery and demonstrating an affinity for machine spirits. Those proud Tech-Priests had prostrated themselves, venerating the Emperor as the avatar of the "Omnissiah," thereby bringing the power of all Forge Worlds into the Imperial fold.
What Adam was doing now was merely referencing the wisdom of his predecessors. However, creating Titans was far from his limit.
In the eyes of some well-informed Magos, these things might still be explained away as lost relics from the Dark Age of Technology—dangerous artifacts capable of destroying planets, some of which might be able to construct God-Machines in a single thought.
Therefore, Adam needed to continue demonstrating miracles. Creating Titans was shocking enough, but it wasn't grand enough. He needed to pull off something even bigger.
With that thought, Adam moved.
His figure suddenly vanished—a visual illusion caused by high-speed movement that instantly erased all traces of his presence from everyone's perception. A moment later, the roar of the atmosphere being torn apart finally caught up, exploding through the air.
Ten times the speed of sound.
Adam became a blur above the crimson plains, moving so fast that only a surveyor could capture his full trajectory. Other Magi could only see the plasma trails left behind as the air was violently shredded, barely outlining the path he had taken.
At the same moment, the kneeling Emperor-class Titans moved. They did not run. With just a single step, their towering iron bodies vanished, reappearing out of thin air tens of kilometers away.
This was the Titan Warp-teleportation device unique to the Lucius Forge World—a forbidden technology that only the highest-tier God-Machines could carry, which had forged the legendary fame of the Warp Runners Legion. Such a teleportation should have required a long and complex charging process, precise calculations from the Titan pilots, and extensive rituals to appease the machine spirits.
But for these Titans, it was as natural as breathing.
One step across mountains. One step across plains.
Twelve Emperor-class Titans followed that flickering shadow like the most loyal of guardians. Their bodies phased in and out of reality, effortlessly traversing distances that a follower of the Omnissiah might spend a lifetime traveling.
The cultists of the Mechanicus witnessing this fell to their knees. The proud Archmagi who controlled the lifelines of entire Forge Worlds, the scholars who had dedicated their lives to the mysteries of the machine... their logic cores whirred frantically, trying to comprehend the scene.
"Where is he going?" someone muttered. This question rose in the hearts of every Mechanicus member watching. Soon, various surveyors across Mars provided the answer.
"Is that... the Tharsis Plateau?" a Magos exclaimed, operating the holographic projection on his private servo-skull.
"No, to be precise, following the linear trajectory, it should be the Noctis Labyrinth," someone immediately corrected.
"What kind of place is that?" a confused voice asked.
"No, that's the formal academic name. There is another title for it..."
"...The Noctis Aeterna."
Before the Tech-priests could reach a conclusion in their debate, Adam's figure came to a sudden halt. He dropped out of his Mach 10 state, condensing from a streak of light back into solid form, floating silently above the red Martian soil.
Then, Adam frowned slightly. Not quite. There was still a bit of distance.
His spatial perception expanded abruptly—a method of sensing granted by a "generous" C'tan sponsor, covering the vast expanse. Adam tilted his head slightly. His gaze skipped across hundreds of kilometers, piercing through thick radioactive smog to land directly on a massive, abandoned complex.
Magma Hive.
A small hive city that was once prosperous but had been ruined during the Great Heresy, remaining semi-abandoned to this day. Inside, many Mechanicus faithful were still exploring, hoping to find legacies of the past.
At this moment, the followers of the Omnissiah within the hive stopped their work immediately. They saw the figure floating on the horizon. Even the servitors maintaining equipment looked up blankly, their rudimentary logic cores sensing a profound anomaly.
Every gaze converged on that single figure.
The earth moved.
The lowest levels of Magma Hive—the rock layers and foundations that had been stable for ten thousand years—suddenly began to vibrate. The steel structure of the hive city emitted a low hum. The sound rose from deep underground, piercing through layers of bedrock, through ten millennia of industrial waste, and through the entanglement of countless machines and conduits. It was like the first breath of a long-slumbering beast waking up.
Then, the tremors intensified.
Tech-priests within the hive stumbled, grabbing nearby walls, watching in terror as structures they believed to be eternal began to shift. The crimson Martian soil began to crack. Fissures spread outward from the hive's edge like countless eyes opening on the earth. Through those cracks, the truth buried for ten thousand years was revealed.
Steel.
Infinite steel structures were emerging from beneath the soil. The scope of the fracturing expanded rapidly, and clouds of dust kicked up, almost obscuring the view.
Amidst the smoke, the entire hive city began to rise. No, it wasn't rising. It was waking up.
The giant city of iron and gears opened its eyes. Adam gave a calm command:
"Rise."
The hive city came alive.
As if given life by simple words, the steel structures forming the city's foundation began to reorganize. Gears turned, levers swung, and mechanisms operated. Large amounts of plasteel making up the hive were simultaneously transmuted into rare adamantium and auramite. Every component found its new place under the guidance of an invisible will.
The Tech-priests still standing within the hive watched the transformations occurring around them with a mix of terror and religious ecstasy.
A short time later, the result was visible to all. Before the dust could even settle, a mountain-sized starfort erupted from the haze. Massive engine arrays at the base of the starfort spat out thick plumes of ion flame, which, together with anti-gravity arrays, supported the newborn steel colossus as it broke the bonds of gravity and slowly ascended into the sky.
The followers of the Omnissiah looked up, gazing at a structure that was intimately familiar yet completely alien.
"Is that... the Phalanx?" someone whispered.
Indeed. The majestic starfort shaking off the accumulated dust high in the atmosphere looked nearly identical in design to the Phalanx of the Imperial Fists. This was natural, as the Phalanx was the grandest space structure Adam had encountered in this world that truly embodied the greatness of humanity.
"No, saying that is meaningless now," an ex-Magos from the Prometheus Lab said, looking around.
"Praise the Omnissiah."
"Praise the Omnissiah."
Beside him, and at every location across Mars—whether they were Radicals or Puritans, regardless of their sect—they all began to murmur in prayer. After all, witnessing such a holy sight, even the most stubborn Magos had to accept the truth.
The Omnissiah had descended.