Inside the Temple of the Fabricator-General.
The hall had fallen into a sudden, heavy silence. The events unfolding were beyond belief, leaving everyone stunned. The Magos who had previously held a conservative stance stood frozen like a wooden statue. The rhythmic mechanical hum of his augmentations had ceased entirely, and his mind was weathering an unprecedented storm.
To a follower of the Cult Mechanicus, the sight before them was nothing short of a miracle. While the legend of the Dragon of Mars circulated deeply among the followers of the Omnissiah, it was usually treated as just one of many Martian rumors. Yet, when the silver-white Void Dragon—a literal manifestation of physical laws—soared across the sky in reality, who could deny its existence?
That this newly revealed Omnissiah was executing the beast was seen as a matter of divine course. In the accounts of those who had received dream-revelations regarding the Dragon, it was often viewed as an avatar of the Omnissiah. To see it now was to witness a blasphemy being purged. The benevolent Omnissiah was not pouring His wrath upon His ignorant followers, but had instead chosen to strike down the dragon that had beguiled them.
The Magos adjusted his internal logic, beginning to pray with an unimaginable fervor.
"How do you feel now?" Fabricator-General Rascali turned his massive, augmented frame to look down at the Magos beside him. No expression could be found on his mechanical face, but a rare hint of warmth touched his synthesized voice.
"Omnissiah be praised. I understand everything now," the Magos whispered, his voice trembling with a newfound piety. "I understand the truth, and I see my own unforgivable sins."
"No, you are wrong again."
A voice came from below the dais. Demian walked through the crowd of listeners who were praying toward the sky, coming to a halt before the Magos. His steps were steady and firm. The simple artisan robes he wore seemed to glow with an invisible radiance in the eyes of the onlookers.
"It should be: 'The Omnissiah is by our side,'" he said, looking up into the Magos's cold mechanical eyes. "He is with us, guiding us to explore all the unknown truths of the universe."
Upon hearing this, both the Magos and Rascali immediately repeated the phrase. "Yes, the Omnissiah is by our side!"
Everyone in the hall repeated the mantra in their hearts. He was the guide, not a distant ruler. What a merciful Lord!
"I have sinned," the Magos's voice echoed, his logic becoming clearer. "I questioned the Omnissiah, failed to recognize His true face, and even thought to move against His followers. I wavered. I wish to be converted into a combat servitor, to spend the rest of my life atoning for my sins in service to the true Omnissiah."
"No, you are wrong once more," Demian interrupted calmly. He stood before the Magos, his young face carrying a depth and mercy far beyond his years. "The Omnissiah will not judge you as guilty over such a small matter, my brother. Ignorance is not a sin; arrogance is."
"We can teach the ignorant; it is only the arrogant who are beyond help. The fact that you realize your own limitations is proof of your devotion."
The Magos froze, then performed a perfect Cog Ceremony toward the young tech-priest he had previously looked down upon. His expression was more serious than it had ever been.
"Then, my brother..." After a moment, the Magos could no longer suppress his long-buried curiosity. His voice shook slightly. "I am truly curious about the power you exercised earlier—that power so similar to the Omnissiah's. How were you able to influence machine spirits so easily? How was it done?"
"Naturally, the merciful Omnissiah shared this ability with me," Demian replied simply and powerfully. His gaze drifted past the Magos toward the battle in the sky. "It is not because I was the first to witness His arrival, but because of His benevolence. He generously shares His power with His followers. Now, there are many like me who can exercise this strength to better serve Him."
The Magos was nearly moved to tears. Had he not lost his tear ducts to extensive mechanical modification, he would have been weeping. Only now did he realize how great a mistake he had made—how could cold machinery contain such profound meaning? On Mars, he and his colleagues had fundamentally misunderstood the true intent of the Omnissiah. But now, the merciful Lord had returned. Everything was about to change.
"It's almost over," someone whispered in the hall.
The crowd watched the miraculous battle through various vox-feeds and scanners. The Dragon of Mars was at the end of its strength. After being struck by the blade that seemed capable of cleaving everything, it could no longer hold its form. Its massive body swayed and began to fall like a meteor.
The direction of the fall was...
"Wait," someone said, confused. "Is it falling toward the Temple of the Fabricator-General?"
"Am I seeing this right?"
"No, you aren't," another replied.
The beast was indeed heading straight for them. Everyone stared at the monitors, gasping in shock.
BOOM!
An earth-shattering explosion rang out. The massive temple, a landmark of Martian status, shook to its foundations. The giant armor plating, capable of withstanding direct hits from orbital macro-cannons, groaned and shrieked as it buckled. A heatwave exceeding the limits of melta weaponry melted through the armor, punching a massive hole in the temple's dome.
The Void Dragon stumbled inside. Its gargantuan head crashed onto one side of the hall. Its twisted, broken body was so close that it left the witnesses breathless. The sheer scale of it, representing the constants of the material universe, made it easy to see why those who saw it in dreams mistook it for the Omnissiah.
On top of the Void Dragon stood a figure.
Adam stood calmly upon the twitching body of the dragon, the silver-white blood of the beast dripping from his longsword. Through the shredded dome above, the orange-red sunlight of Mars poured down, blurring his features. He was bathed in that light and the high-energy particle spray of the dragon's blood, the air around him warping slightly.
It was as if a god had descended upon the world.
"Ah, I've got the feel for it again," Adam muttered, sensing the sudden fullness of power within him.
His reality-warping ability had surged significantly—while not yet comparable to a Rank 5, it far exceeded his usual state. His perception expanded, following the surging power of faith. Adam's vision transcended physical form, covering every corner of Mars.
In that instant, a reality-warping event on a scale that made the entire planet tremble was initiated. Like a supernova, the power swept out from Adam toward the rest of the planet. Wherever the invisible ripples passed, the massive radiation clouds over Mars melted away like snow under a harsh sun. The sky turned clear, revealing a heart-stirring blue reminiscent of the ancient legends of Terra.
As the ripples reached downward, every forge on Mars fell silent simultaneously.
Then, they awakened.
The machine spirits cheered, and the entire planet hummed. Without the prayers of tech-priests, the giant furnaces that had been dormant roared back to life. Deep within the forges, the servitors stood frozen. Golden flames burned within them, purifying the pain, numbness, and despair accumulated over millennia, liberating their souls.
Countless ancient machines buried in the ruins began to operate again. In the moment the ripple passed, technical blueprints long lost to time were imprinted perfectly into the minds of every tech-priest.
Mars was being reborn.
Inside the temple, everyone stared at this scene in a trance. Looking at the unbelievable images coming through their various sensors, no one could speak. The Magos felt a sudden spark of inspiration; his mechanical eye flickered, capturing the moment.
An image that would be included in countless future scriptures of the Cult Mechanicus was born that day.