52: As long as you write good code, even a machine spirit can become a simp.

[Mars - Olympus Mons - Forge Temple Plaza]

The transport's hatch opened slowly with a hiss of hydraulic decompression.

A wave of scorching, dry air, thick with iron oxide dust and the acrid smell of burnt oil, rushed forward.

The smell was unpleasant, even pungent, but for an Astartes clad in power armor, this was the purest perfume of industrial civilization.

C-19 was the first to descend the ramp.

His black Mk II power armor reflected a dim, ghostly light under Mars's sallow sky.

Behind him was an honor guard of twelve of the most elite Astartes.

They carried no heavy weapons, only Chainswords and bolt pistols at their waists.

This was to show "sincerity," and also because, under the guns of tens of thousands of Skitarii surrounding them, bringing heavy weapons made little difference.

C-19 looked up, gazing at the steel forest before him.

No trace of the mountain's original form remained here.

Olympus Mons, towering over twenty thousand meters, had been completely transformed into a planetary-scale mega-factory, a temple complex.

Countless thick exhaust pipes stabbed into the sky, belching clouds of fumes that blotted out the sun.

Magma was contained within transparent adamantium conduits, flowing across the city's surface like veins.

Enormous gears roared deep beneath the earth at their feet, each rotation causing the entire plaza to tremble faintly.

This was the Adeptus Mechanicus. This was the ultimate tomb and cradle of human technology.

"Halt. Organic lifeform."

A grand, cold, multiply reverberated voice came from the far end of the plaza.

It was before a massive bronze gate a hundred meters high.

A colossal Archmagos, its lower half a repulsor-lift platform and its upper body bristling with countless mechanical arms and data cables, blocked the way.

Scan Result: Mars Archmagos - Kelpo - Fabricator-General's Envoy

Kelpo's red-glowing optic sensors fixed intently on C-19, as if intent on dissecting him from the outside in.

"Ul-02 reported your 'miracle.'"

Kelpo's voice was full of suspicion and scrutiny, the pure cold of absolute rationality, mixed with a barely perceptible hint of malice.

"But logic circuits indicate that only the omnissiah Himself could master the underlying 'Awakening Protocol.' And you... are merely mortal flesh from the Terra wastelands."

Dozens of red laser dots settled on C-19's helmet.

The surrounding Skitarii racked the slides of their Arc Rifles; the air crackled with electric charge.

"Prove it."

Kelpo extended a massive mechanical claw, pointing at C-19.

"Prove you are not merely data porters, but holders of the truth."

"Otherwise, the Reclamation Protocol will be executed immediately."

C-19 did not move. He asked softly over the comms channel:

"Commander?"

...[Holographic Operations Cabin]

Li Cang looked at the screen showing the imposing red-robed monstrosity. Far from being nervous, a cold smile touched his lips.

"I knew these tin-heads wouldn't be easy to fool."

"No seeing the rabbit, no loosing the hawk, is that it?"

He opened the highest-level control code library parsed from the [Noctis Labyrinthus Star Chart].

It wasn't just a map. It was a master key. The highest-level command set left behind by humanity's Golden Age.

Li Cang's eyes scanned the screen, searching for a suitable target nearby to demonstrate authority.

Skitarii?

Too weak.

The gate?

Too cliché.

Suddenly, his gaze locked onto the two giant machines standing motionless like statues at the edge of the plaza, covered in red dust.

Those were two Warhound-class Titans.

Although they were merely the smallest scout models of the Titan Legion, they still stood fifteen meters tall, armed with Plasma Blastguns capable of melting tanks.

They were the guardian deities of the Adeptus Mechanicus, their machine spirits savage and proud, untamable by anyone below the highest-ranking Priest.

"You'll do."

Li Cang's fingers flew across the keyboard, inputting an incredibly complex, ancient, even rhythmically structured string of binary code.

"C-19."

Li Cang's voice was calm and confident.

"Raise your hand and point at that red Titan."

"Then... make it kneel."

...[Mars Plaza]

C-19 heard the command. Though it sounded utterly absurd, he executed it without hesitation.

Under the watchful eyes of all, he slowly raised his right hand, his index finger pointing at the red Warhound Titan at the plaza's edge, which had slumbered for untold centuries.

A flicker of astonishment crossed Archmagos Kelpo's optic sensors, quickly turning to mockery.

"What is he doing? That is a god-machine, its machine spirit long sunk in deep meditation..."

*Beep—*

A crisp, anachronistic electronic tone abruptly sounded across the plaza.

Immediately, the ground began to shake violently. Not the vibration of machinery, but the tremor of a slumbering behemoth awakening.

*Hum—BOOM!!!*

The red Warhound Titan, the steel sculpture regarded as inert, suddenly lit up its eyes.

Its previously dim reactor roared to life with a piercing shriek, belching a blast of scorching steam that sent the surrounding Skitarii tumbling.

It moved.

Under the horrified, awestruck, even worshipful gazes of all present, the fifteen-meter-tall war machine turned with difficulty and slowness, accompanied by the shriek of hydraulic pistons.

It faced C-19. Or rather, it faced the unseen "will" behind C-19.

*Clank—THUD!*

The steel behemoth actually knelt on one knee.

Its massive metal knee shattered the plaza's tiles with a heavy impact, kicking up a cloud of dust.

It lowered its proud, wolf-head-shaped cockpit, its back-mounted Plasma Cannon and Vulcan Mega-Bolter drooping, performing a standard "Obeisance" reserved for a knight pledging fealty to a monarch.

Simultaneously, a segment of binary code that made every Mechanicus follower's soul tremble played over the broadcast system:

01001001...[Command Confirmed: Golden Age Highest Authority Access]

01001100...[machine spirit Recognition: Proxy of the omnissiah]

01010110...[Status: Awaiting Orders]

Dead silence.

The entire plaza fell into absolute dead silence.

Even Archmagos Kelpo's constantly waving mechanical tentacles froze mid-air, as if time had stopped.

"This... this defies logic..."

Kelpo's voice trembled, his logic circuits screaming with errors.

No physical connection, no data transfer cable, just a gesture? This is... a miracle? No, this is the underlying backdoor of that lost age!

"Once you grasp the truth, even the machine spirit will submit."

Li Cang said coldly in the operations cabin. Of course, only he could hear it.

And on Mars, C-19 lowered his hand.

He looked at the Adeptus Mechanicus formation now kneeling all around.

Yes, the moment the Titan knelt, the surrounding Skitarii and low-ranking Priest, who had been bristling with killing intent, instinctively dropped to their knees, beginning to kowtow and chant prayers fervently.

Even the proud Archmagos Kelpo now slowly lowered his processor-filled head, crossing his mechanical tentacles over his chest in the highest salute.

But C-19 could see that in Kelpo's lowered optic sensors, what flickered was not just reverence, but an even greater, extreme greed.

"Logic reconstruction complete."

Kelpo's voice was no longer cold, but filled with fanatical humility.

"Divine Emissary... please enter."

"The Fabricator-General awaits you in the Throne Hall."

C-19 said nothing.

He simply strode forward, leading his Astartes behind him, treading the dark red path paved by millennia of accumulated oil, marching toward the slowly opening bronze gate.

In this world that worships The Machine, the one who holds the highest authority codes is a god.

And Li Cang was now the one holding the remote control.