The Endurance, Armoury.
Now.
< >
The Armoury of the Death Guard might be the least altered place since the Primarch's return. Its simple geotric shapes are neatly arranged, with no disorder or chaos.
No disharmonious elents are present; tools and blueprints are ticulously organized.
Every exposed cable is carefully arranged and labeled with binary codes that only Death Guard Tech Sergeants can decipher.
On the gray-white walls, the once dark-red banner of the Dusk Raiders has been replaced with the gray-green banner of the Death Guard.
The rumble of assembly lines echoed intermittently through the Armoury, while the red-robed servitors silently moved among the massive machinery. Their chanical cog-skull emblem swayed slightly with their steps.
In one corner of the vast hall, Tech Sergeant Alberto, dressed in MK2 armor, was sorting and verifying the latest batch of ceramite supplies for the MK3 power armor.
According to his superior and ntor, Enrique, the newly returned Primarch preferred heavy infantry warfare. As a result, the legion's demand for MK3 power armor was expected to rise.
Compared to the MK2 "Crusade" pattern power armor used during the Great Crusade, the MK3 "Iron" pattern sacrificed so flexibility and stealth for increased defensive capabilities. Its helt’s thick, sloped plate could even deflect bullets.
The MK3 armor had been distributed among many legions, but only in small numbers. The MK2 "Crusade" pattern remained the standard.
When legions start using MK3 power armor on a large scale, it usually indicates high-casualty grinding warfare. This armor isn’t suited for assaults or ambushes; it was born for pushing through the frontlines.
Alberto sighed silently.
The Armoury and the logistics departnt were likely the first to notice the future direction of the legion.
While most of the legionnaires were still going about their routine training, the Tech Sergeants in the Armoury were already preparing equipnt for the wars to co.
At a temporary workbench diagonally in front of Alberto’s station sat Hades, holding a dry quill, occasionally making gesturing motions in the air.
Though Hades had been called to assist, an untrained recruit was of little help. In fact, he was less useful than a servitor, whose operation manual could simply be uploaded into its brain.
But Enrique hadn’t summoned Hades for actual help.
On the way back, Enrique had sent a binary ssage to Alberto:
"Alberto, I’m leaving this recruit’s training to you."
"Make sure this recruit develops an interest in tech-forging. We aren’t the only ones who want him."
Alberto was puzzled for a mont, but he didn’t question it. His only task was to carry out his ntor’s orders.
"Understood."
Yet, as it turned out, there was no need to teach Hades anything.
The mont Alberto walked him through the Armoury, it was clear that this recruit was practically radiating joy.
Did Alberto really need to ignite Hades’ interest in tech? There was no need. The guy was already completely obsessed.
If the Tech Sergeants he had trained before had even half of Hades’ enthusiasm, Alberto’s work would have been so much easier.
With plenty of work on his plate, Alberto was glad to give Hades a few unimportant blueprints and send him off.
His explanation to Hades was simple:
"The legion is currently overwheld with equipnt production, and so lower-level schematics discovered from other worlds haven’t been properly categorized yet. You can help sort them by function."
In truth, these low-level schematics were typically discarded imdiately—most of them were designs for odd, everyday objects.
The previous classification process had already ensured there were no important technologies or content in these low-priority papers.
But Hades, ahead of him, was completely absorbed in his task.
He held his quill, trying hard to suppress the urge to spin it idly between his fingers. The blueprint before him seed to depict a small household appliance.
Gothic letters densely covered the paper, and at the center was an image of a box roughly the size of two bolters stacked together.
So key numbers were encrypted in octal. Hades’ left eye flashed red. It wasn’t a difficult encryption; by inputting so standard values as reverse references, he quickly deciphered it.
Hades stared at the blueprint. Two standard rectangular slots, with controls for temperature and ti, an automatic content rotation chanism, and ergency stop and warning features in case of malfunction.
So... this was a—
Toaster!
And it was the kind that allowed users to imprint custom designs on the toast!
The sll of baked bread—the faint, fernted scent of wheat—seed to waft into Hades' nose.
He was hungry.
Alright, he decided. He’d head to the cafeteria afterward. He could check out the dueling cages tomorrow when he had more ti.
Settling back into his work, Hades pulled out another blueprint and continued studying.
Ti passed quickly. When Alberto finally reminded Hades it was ti to go, Hades nodded, placing the blueprint in the "Furniture" category.
"Thanks for your hard work."
Alberto nodded back, and Hades left the Armoury.
Hades knew that reviewing those schematics probably didn’t amount to much.
In Hades’ mind, he figured this assignnt was punishnt for damaging the combat servitor, even though it wasn’t entirely his fault. Still, to prevent future incidents, the Master of the Forge probably decided to teach him a lesson, hence the busywork.
However, since it wasn’t entirely Hades' responsibility, the "punishnt" was light, more of a formality.
The Armoury was its own departnt, and no one would check to see whether Hades was really serving his "due punishnt."
So, Hades felt grateful toward Master of the Forge Enrique and Tech Sergeant Alberto for letting him off easy!
Completely incorrect logic, but in Hades’ limited perspective, it made sense.
"Techies are really good guys," Hades mused, wondering if he could apply to beco a Tech Sergeant soday.
He casually made his way to his usual spot, where a familiar servitor brought him a bowl of porridge. The fragrant steam rose from the bowl, reminding Hades of the familiar sll.
Since Alberto had let him off early, Hades had about forty minutes to spare.
"I can eat ten bowls!" he thought.
However, just as Hades picked up his spoon—
Urgent footsteps broke the silence of the empty cafeteria.
"Hades! Sir!"
"You—you need to get to the dueling cages right away!!"
Vorxs' face showed signs of anxiety and urgency. His brow furrowed as he spoke.
Hades froze, spoon mid-air.
Reviews
All reviews (0)