Mora-Tau did not celebrate victory. The skies still burned.
Ash and particulate matter choked the atmosphere, turning the light of the distant star into a dim, copper haze.
Entire manufactorum districts had collapsed into molten graves. Titan wreckage lay half-submerged in cooling slag, their once-godlike forms reduced to broken silhouettes.
Yet the forge world still functioned, because Archmagos Ferrum-Rho demanded it. Reconstruction had already begun.
Where lesser Magi would take decades to restore operational capacity, Ferrum-Rho's processes moved with unnatural speed. The gear tattoo that had somehow left his flesh now etched onto his mechanical body pulsed continuously.
Damaged Skitarii instead of full restoration were repurposed and reconfigured back to assist in the rebuilding of the forges.
Titan repair yards operated without pause, entire limbs being reforged and reattached in cycles that defied standard Mechanicus doctrine. Warhound reactors were reignited at a pace that bordered on reckless efficiency.
Ferrum-Rho after calculating every risk, accepted every one. The risk of another attempt on the sacred template demanded it.
Deep beneath Theta-Prime, in a vault now layered with redundant shielding and isolated from all external networks, the artifact pulsed.
Ferrum-Rho observed the STC in silence hoping to glean the reason for its reaction.Streams of data flowed endlessly from its core, reorganizing themselves faster than even his enhanced cognition could fully process.
It did not merely contain knowledge, it refined it. Iterated. Improved.
Blueprints for self-repairing alloys, adaptive machine-spirits, and biological-mechanical integration systems that blurred the line between flesh and steel.
It is not just a tool of war and technology, It is a tool of evolution. Yet Ferrum-Rho recognized the dangers it possessed.
Through testing, 3 Skitarii test units were exposed to controlled outputs from the STC, it had exceeded operational parameters within minutes, reaction times increased by 43%, durability by 27%.
But their behavioral matrices…Deviated, not failure, not corruption, but something else. They proceeded with Improvements without explicit permission from the Archmagos.
Noticing this Ferrum-Rho sealed the data on the experiments, encrypting it, and isolating it further. It could not be known that such a thing is kept within the vault of the forge world.
Mars most especially could not know something like this existed. Not yet anyway. This gave Archmagos Ferrum-Rho renewed in purpose to serving one of the primarchs.
Because it is only with their backing that he will be able to continue his research. Even now, one of his own acolytes through multiple relay paths which sent whispers across the void.
Fragmentary reports of the battle. Of the losses. Of the scale of destruction, and buried within those whispers a rumor, of something found something worth such cost.
Ferrum-Rho already calculated the probability of these events getting into the ears of the tech-priests on Mars. He knew what would come next, blames of blasphemy, and those more sneaky would try to take it for themselves.
If Archmagos Kelbor-Hal, who is currently ruling mars discovers news of the Panacea STC, the response would be inevitable. Delegations, oversight, control, and restriction would be just the beginning.
Giving what Ferrum-Rho knows about the outcome of the Imperium, and those especially not to trust. Letting Kelbor-Hal near this would be inefficient and dangerous.
Ferrum-Rho did not permit inefficiency. Above, in orbit, salvage fleets moved among the debris fields. Recovery was methodical, but something had changed.
A fragment of wreckage, drukhari in origin had been retrieved intact. Against Ferrum-Rho's initial projections, within it something lived. The containment chamber flickered as the creature reformed.
Flesh knitting itself together from ruin. Bone regrowing. Structure rebuilding in ways that defied natural law. The Haemonculus opened its eyes with a knowing smile, memories of the events that occurred flood its mind, especially….
The Vault.
After strict distant observation, the Archmagos proceeds to review every interaction that had occurred during the battle. He wanted to understand the reason for its smile
"[Query]: Proceed with termination protocols," one of his Magos Krull suggested.
"[Response]: Negative, take the subject to bio containment level 6. I will process it when time is available"
During the fraction of a second before all was destroyed it had been active, and from its smile it looks like it had seen something. Measures must be taken to avoid further spreading of information.
The Haemonculus had seen it, more so was its understanding of it that gave him pause. The drukhari had not failed entirely. Ferrum-Rho recalculated, and he saw future threat vectors expanded exponentially.
Haemonculus laughed in a broken sound.
"You build perfection," it rasped, its voice a distorted echo through damaged vocal cords.
"We… improve it."
Ferrum-Rho terminated the audio feed. But not the creature, because he, too, had begun to understand. The Panacea STC might not be a simple prize to hold onto.
Though not a weapon, It was a divergence point in the timeline of the universe. Ferrum-Rho and the other fragments were not ready to stand responsibly for the species with them at its center.
The constant bombardment of the fragment in trying to occupy his existing systems was getting overwhelming. He had to dedicate 50% of his mental capacity to isolate the infection of the STC.
Beyond designed limitations, he would note it. Catalogued it and continued to allow it feed him data, because above all he had the capacity to take it. Not for long but still the capacity.
Above Mora-Tau, the fires dimmed. The forge world lived, stronger than it once was, more efficient, but still different from his initial vision.
And far across the void, in the dark places between stars, word spread.
Among the Drukhari, among the Aeldari, even among chaos, something stirred, rumors, whispers, and untrues.
Among the Mechanicum, a story that something had been found in a segment of space not yet designated. Something that should not exist. And at its heart stood a Magos who did not share.
Who did not report. Who did not obey.
In time, they would give him a name. Not yet spoken. But inevitable. A name spoken with suspicion.
With fear. With quiet accusation. Like another, far in the future. And when Mars finally turned its gaze toward Mora-Tau
It would not come in peace. Ferrum-Rho turned back to the STC.
"[Directive]: Begin Phase II," he commanded.