The following day.
Qin Mo was deep in study, analyzing a piece of "flesh" he had torn from the Nightbringer shard.
In essence, all C'tan, the so-called Star Gods, were once formless beings, unknowable vortices of sentient energy drifting between the stars, feeding on solar radiation and stellar phenomena, incapable of direct interaction with the physical universe in any tangible way.
It was the ancient Necrontyr, in their desperation, who forged them into bodies using necrodermis or, as the Adeptus Mechanicus now refer to it, living metal: a programmable matter capable of self-repair, regeneration, and mimicry of organic properties on a molecular scale.
By binding the C'tan into necrodermis shells, the Necrontyr transformed these raw, conceptual entities into physical, godlike beings, giving them a vessel to interact with the material world.
But this transformation came with consequences. No longer purely energy, the C'tan became vulnerable, fragmentable. Their necrodermis forms could be shattered, their consciousness fractured into shards, each retaining a sliver of the original's personality and power.
What Qin Mo was studying now was exactly that: a sample of necrodermis.
It writhed faintly under the containment field, microscopic tendrils testing the edges of its prison like a thing still partially aware.
Moments later, as before, Archmagos Dominus Belisarius Cawl squeezed into the room, his vast, augmented form humming with arcane energies, moving with deliberate precision toward Qin Mo.
The scent of ozone and sterilizing oils accompanied him, every step a symphony of hydraulic whispers and servo-mutterings.
Cawl had remained in the Talon System ever since being summoned by Qin Mo. He had gifted one of his light cruisers to Vick, along with a formal letter of introduction to the Agripinaa Sector.
Since then, Cawl had stayed in the Talon System, traversing its worlds, examining every piece of technology with fanatical curiosity. He had tried reverse-engineering some systems and constructs for himself, but even with his genius, it would take decades to crack them.
"Take a look at this," Qin Mo gestured, stepping aside so Cawl could peer into the observation rig. The containment unit rotated silently, bringing the specimen into full view behind hex-shielded plasteel.
Cawl recognized it immediately. A piece of living metal. As one of the Imperium's boldest tech-adepts, Cawl had extensive knowledge of Necron technologies.
Still, Cawl stepped forward, pulling out a long, telescopic-like instrument from beneath his robes, fitting it over his multi-lensed face and linking into the observation auspex systems of his mechanized body.
The lenses glowed crimson, whirring as they magnified the material's structure down to the atomic lattice.
"This is… quite a special strain of living metal," Cawl muttered as he scanned it. "It differs from the usual Necron alloy variants we've catalogued."
"Of course it is," Qin Mo replied flatly.
Cawl straightened, his posture suggesting another question weighed on him. "I noticed the two orbital bastions that were once stationed above this system… vanished for a while."
He didn't press the issue further, but it was clear he was probing for an explanation about the Celestial Engine. Qin Mo offered none and continued his research in silence.
Understanding the signal, Cawl said nothing more and waited.
While still working, Qin Mo asked, "What's the current status of the Lamenters Chapter?"
"Chapter Master Phoros has reached out to every merchant traveling through Talon space, spreading word that the Lamenters still live and now reside in this system. A few of his battle-brothers from scattered units have already made it here."
Cawl himself had previously confronted Phoros, questioning why the Lamenters possessed a surprisingly high number of Terminator-class power armors, a rare resource even for elite chapters. He'd quickly learned it was Qin Mo who had resupplied them.
That led Cawl to deduce that Qin Mo's matter-fabrication tech could ignore traditional manufacturing limitations. With the proper schematics and templates, nearly anything could be replicated. It was a miracle-machine, and it fascinated him more than anything else. Its implications were staggering, even to him.
"Do you think the Lamenters can undergo the Primaris conversion?" Qin Mo asked.
"That depends on their... luck," Cawl replied instinctively. Then he paused, clearly surprised that Qin Mo even knew of the Primaris program.
How? How could he possibly know?
The Primaris Project was one of the most closely guarded secrets in the Imperium. Decades, even centuries, in the making. A bold and forbidden effort, birthed in the wake of the Horus Heresy and hidden even from many within the Adeptus Mechanicus. New, enhanced Astartes, stronger, faster, more durable than their ancestors. But not officially sanctioned. Not yet. Not until the right moment.
Cawl had waited ten thousand years for that moment. And it had not yet come.
A flicker of alarm pinged through his cognition routines. Maybe it was time to leave Talon. Surely, there were hidden mind-scanning arrays in this system. How else could this man know that?
"I'll authorize the Primaris conversion for the Lamenters," Qin Mo said, handing the necrodermis sample to Cawl. "In return, this is yours."
Cawl stared at the living metal in silence. Unlike last time, he didn't accept immediately.
After several long moments, he finally spoke. "Do you know what the biggest risk is for people like us? It's that we don't have political shields of higher status. When I say high status, I don't mean planetary governors or Archmagos… I mean true power. Without backing from the Inquisition, the Ecclesiarchy, or the High Lords, anyone can call us heretics, and we'd become hunted enemies of the Imperium overnight."
He paused, his many lenses dimming.
"That's why the Primaris must remain hidden until the right storm breaks the sky. Until the galaxy needs a savior it doesn't yet believe in. Until then, the Astartes must not know. Most wouldn't understand. Some would call it betrayal. Others… an abomination. In that environment, I can't just reveal the Primaris Project. I can't order fleets and armies with a single sentence like a Lord Commander can. The Lamenters were supposed to die out with honor, in silence. Sheltering them like you did already pushes the boundaries of what's tolerable. If not for Horst's sudden departure, the Inquisition would already be here."
His voice remained mechanical, emotionless like a vox-recorder, but Qin Mo heard the edge beneath it. The tension in the room was palpable, like a charge waiting to arc.
Qin Mo didn't flinch. "Then bring your Ark Mechanicus to Talon. I'll reinforce its superstructure with living metal."
"You're not listening." Cawl's tone didn't waver. "You need to be careful with what you reveal. A lot of what you're showing the galaxy could be branded as arch-heretekal work."
Qin Mo didn't even look up. "I'll also give you a fabricator that can print fabricators."
"…"
Cawl went silent.
He didn't want to say no. He wasn't opposed to helping the Lamenters, he simply couldn't do it now. But one day, once his own grand designs came to fruition, the Lamenters wouldn't have a choice. They would become Primaris.
Still…
The thought of living metal upgrades to the King of Explorers, and a self-replicating fabrication device…
Tempting.
Very tempting.
Cawl finally asked, "Why are you so intent on helping the Lamenters so much?"
"Because they fight the Enemies of the Material Universe. Whether it's Inquisitors, Astartes, or Astra Militarum, if they stand against the enemies beyond reality, they can find support from me." Qin Mo said firmly.
Cawl nodded quietly but couldn't help thinking: I fight those enemies too. So why don't I get access to your wondrous tech?
Still, in the end, Cawl agreed to the Primaris conversion for the Lamenters.
Originally, Qin Mo had planned to handle it himself, perhaps even going full Thunderborn-level cybernetic augmentation. But after seeing the Lamenters survive catastrophe after catastrophe, he figured there was something metaphysical keeping them alive. Best not to tamper too much with fate.
"Have your end of the bargain ready," Cawl said, turning to leave. "But I make no guarantees. The Primaris conversion is not without risk and the Astartes must be willing."
"I have ways to screen candidates for survivability," Qin Mo replied calmly.
As Cawl stepped into the corridor, he noticed a young man walking his way, visibly human, but radiating power levels off the charts.
Perhaps… a Thunderborn?
He recalled reading similar energy readings from Thunderborns before.
Then the question hit him: Why would someone that young be made into a Thunderborn?
He didn't dwell on it. He had more urgent concerns and kept walking down the corridor.
The youth watched him go… then transformed into Cawl himself and turned toward Qin Mo.
"Who was that machine?" the impostor asked.
Qin Mo glanced at him. "He's not a machine. That's Belisarius Cawl. He's... a man."
"A man?" The Shapeshifter blinked, looking genuinely surprised.
"Cawl is human. Long ago, even a man opposed to cybernetic augmentation."
"I'll never understand what fleshlings are thinking," the Shapeshifter muttered. Then it asked, "Is there anything you need me to do?"
"Stay close," Qin Mo said. "Don't wander. And give me all prophecy you can muster."
As he continued refining the living metal, Qin Mo began forming his next plan.
If Phoros and the Lamenters accepted Primaris conversion, Shapeshifter would have to divine who would survive the transformation. After all, the process was far from guaranteed and carried a significant risk of death.
The plague, the Nurgle fleet, the Nightbringer shard, these threats had been neutralized. More Death Guard incursions might come, but not for a while.
Now, the priority was to unify and militarize every star system in the sector, to turn them all into Talon-class worlds, capable of industry, defense, and rapid mobilization.
Creating the official Talon Sector.
And there was still the matter of waiting…
Waiting for Klein, the envoy sent to Cadia, to return.
Qin Mo had no idea whether Klein would even manage to meet Creed.
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