--o---
Inside the chapel.
Zhou Ye was taking in the décor with a mild, detached curiosity — rather different from the churches he'd visited in his past life.
Skulls were piled everywhere. Though unlike a certain skeletal war-god's aesthetic, at least these skulls all appeared to be human. The one thing that warranted a second glance was the statue of the Emperor tucked in the shadows, utterly devoid of light.
They hadn't dared erect an actual effigy of a Lord of Change — which made it clear the corruption here hadn't progressed very far. No need to call in an Exterminatus just yet.
Not that Exterminatus was thrown around carelessly, despite what the reputation might suggest. The Imperium was actually quite measured about deploying it. And most Inquisitors who did authorize one rarely died peacefully afterward.
Then again, in a universe like this one, dying peacefully at all was already the greatest mercy imaginable.
---o---
"Knowledge is a treasure. The merciful God bestows knowledge upon His faithful."
"Praise be to the Omnissiah..."
The two of them made idle conversation — one trying to preach, the other quietly casing the chapel for anything worth pocketing.
That habit of mine probably isn't going away anytime soon, Zhou Ye thought.
It's all the Blood Ravens' fault.
After all, the very first Space Marines he'd ever laid eyes on in this universe had been a pack of Blood Ravens. He couldn't be blamed for picking up their customs. It wasn't his fault at all.
---o---
"The spark of knowledge echoes through the Nine-Layered Labyrinth. The voice of the God will bring you inspiration — endless, boundless inspiration — and all it asks in return is just a tiny little..."
As he spoke, the priest slipped a book onto a corner of the bookshelf with practiced nonchalance, eyes never leaving Zhou Ye.
"That would doubtless be the Omnissiah's boundless grace."
Zhou Ye, for his part, casually picked up a different book and flipped it open.
Imperial Catechism.
It was a genuine Imperial Catechism — uncorrupted, orthodox, entirely clean. The priest's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
Before he could say anything, Zhou Ye wrinkled his nose and put it back with the air of someone who'd just sniffed spoiled milk.
He had his reasons. If he brought that book to the Golden Fiend, the Emperor would probably be even more disgusted by it than he was.
Still, he quietly committed its contents to memory. You never knew when something like that might come in handy.
The priest's expression eased somewhat. He led Zhou Ye on a circuit of the chapel, and then, with all the subtlety of a man who thought he was being very subtle, steered them back toward that same bookshelf. He pointed.
"Every volume here holds boundless knowledge — the very flame of wisdom. Open one and behold true enlightenment. The ninth shelf, ninth tier, ninth book. Therein lies the secret of all things."
Zhou Ye looked at him.
"Your Tzeentch sacred number is practically slapping me across the face," he said pleasantly. "Are you quite sure everything's alright?"
---o---
He watched the faint gleam of fanaticism flickering behind the priest's eyes.
Then his sense of mischief got the better of him.
He walked to bookshelf eight, reached up to the eighth tier, and pulled out the eighth book.
He opened it slowly.
Imperial Guard Field Training Manual.
For one brief, crystalline moment, the priest's face looked exactly like a man who had just bitten into something deeply unpleasant.
Of course, the manual had nothing to do with the Ruinous Powers. That wasn't how that particular patron corrupted things. So after a beat, Zhou Ye strolled to the center of the room and reached for the book the priest had actually left there.
The priest's expression relaxed.
Zhou Ye opened it.
Tzeentch's corruption detonated outward in a surge of writhing, prismatic energy — shooting straight for the ceiling as though Zhou Ye simply didn't exist.
"Perfect knowledge. I have been blessed with new inspiration."
Zhou Ye gave the Lord of Change depicted inside a single, unimpressed glance. Then he set the book back down and walked out without pausing for so much as a second.
Behind him, the priest smiled brilliantly.
This was all part of the plan. The Tech-Priest was their ally now.
He saw Zhou Ye off with that same radiant smile.
Though...
---o---
"Why does it feel like something's missing?"
Back in the library, the priest looked over everything around him. Something nagged at him — a vague, formless sense of absence. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"...Doesn't matter. It's not important. The plan is already in motion."
He didn't give the room another glance. He turned and walked away.
---o---
On the other side of the settlement, Zhou Ye was radiating quiet satisfaction.
He'd lifted everything Tzeentch-related clean off the shelf.
And to cover his tracks, he'd used his Authority to reconstruct identical-looking books and place them back in the original positions. They still had the Lord of Change written on their pages. But they were just books. The words were there. The corruption was not.
There was a chance he'd be found out eventually, but he wasn't particularly worried. Worst case, he'd simply go and flatten the whole lot of them tonight.
Though ideally, he'd find an Inquisitor first. Going through proper channels had its charm. Besides, he'd harvested a solid amount of energy from this little excursion.
Not a bad day at all.
---o---
Presently, at the Mechanicus Shrine...
"Corrupted, just as I suspected. Chaos eightfold star."
Something had felt off, and he'd had his Servo-skulls conduct a thorough sweep of the area. It didn't take long.
Hidden in the deepest, darkest corners of the shrine — almost invisible to the naked eye — were Chaos Stars. And alongside them...
"Sons of a Thousand Wounds... hm?"
Hmmm.
A low rumble shook the air.
The White Scars were back.
Their bikes touched down right in front of Zhou Ye — but the state they were in was nothing like when they'd left. They looked thoroughly roughed up. Even their motorcycles had taken damage. Whatever they'd run into out there, it had clearly not been a pleasant encounter.
"Battle-Brothers of the White Scars," Zhou Ye greeted them. "What news?"
"We sighted Iron Warriors battle lines. And fallen Mechanicus forces." One of the Astartes' jaw tightened beneath his helmet. "There was even a Warhound-class Titan — covered stem to stern in profane symbols."
"They dared desecrate the God-Machine like that?! The sacred machinery of the Omnissiah — defiled—!"
Zhou Ye's fury was quite real.
He was also privately calculating how long it might take to steal the Titan.
"Calm down. We need to contact the Planetary General and the Governor—"
"I'd advise against that," Zhou Ye said, cutting in.
He raised one hand. A Servo-skull hummed forward and settled into a shadowed corner of the room. A beam of light projected from its crown.
A marking appeared — small, deliberately obscured, but unmistakably there.
"Heresy. Is that... a Thousand Sons sigil?"
The distance was significant, and the symbol was hardly large. But Astartes eyesight wasn't merely human — and as a First Founding Chapter, the White Scars carried knowledge and lore that most others didn't. They recognized it immediately.
Zhou Ye allowed himself a cold smile.
"It would appear that certain individuals here have already fallen."
He watched their expressions darken one by one.
I've only been on this planet a few days, he thought. That marking has clearly been there for quite some time. None of this is my doing.
And by the time anyone thought to question me about it — I'd already be long gone.