Sleep was far from peaceful—Iori appeared in his dreams.
The girl said nothing, only looked at him in silence. That expression alone was more painful to Ignis than any reproach.
Ignis reached for the phone beside his pillow. It had been ringing for a long time. If not for that, he would still be trapped in the nightmare.
That damned Slaanesh daemon… Pulling his mind free from the remnants of sleep, he checked the caller ID—Ben Bigger from Belobog Heavy Industries.
"Hello, hello, sorry to bother you this early, Mr. Ignis." The bear-man accountant was as polite as always—completely at odds with his fierce appearance.
"It's fine. Actually, I should thank you for waking me from a nightmare." Ignis rubbed his bald head; after releasing the psychic power granted by The Emperor last night, the headache had lingered. Probably overuse driven by anger. He had collapsed the moment he got home and fallen into nightmares.
"We found something inside a Hollow during construction today," Ben said carefully. "I think you might know something about it. It looks… somewhat similar to your armor. Grace thinks you should come see it."
"We're starting repairs on the thing now. Grace believes you can help. Looks similar to your power armor?"
Ignis snapped fully awake. What the hell did they dig up in a Hollow? Had The Emperor noticed his lacking battle strength and sent reinforcements?
Equipment resembling Adeptus Astartes power armor… could it be Centurion armor? No—those weren't meant for Primaris patterns… right?
"Hold on. Can you send a picture? Or describe it?"
"Already done—we sent photos earlier. We waited for your reply, but Grace was too excited, so I had to call." Ben's voice carried apology, and Grace's excited shouting echoed in the background.
"We moved it to the same project site you visited last time. Shouldn't be far for you."
"Alright." Ignis replied quickly. "I'm hanging up."
Ending the call, Ignis wiped his face and sat up. Checking the messages, he saw dozens from Ben—it really had been urgent. They started working at seven; typical for construction crews. Early morning work avoided the heat, then a long noon break before continuing till dusk.
Scrolling upward, he found the photos.
A massive mech lay on its back in the rubble. Only half its body was exposed, yet Anton beside it looked like a toy soldier. Bipedal frame. Left arm equipped with a quad-linked Leviathan Storm Cannon. Right arm equipped with a Leviathan Siege Claw with a built-in Meltagun. A helm-style viewport sat beneath a tri-mounted Phosphex Bomb Discharger—though it was spent. The torso had that loaf-like design, and four heavy flamers were mounted around the waist.
What the hell? A Leviathan Pattern Siege Dreadnought? Emperor above, isn't this… too big?
It bore the yellow colors of the Imperial Fists. The red helmet with white vertical stripe. Left shoulder: the white-on-black Fists sigil. Right shoulder: black field with white Teutonic cross. Chest: a black Iron Fist wreathed in laurels.
But even from the photos, the Dreadnought was in terrible condition—deep scars across its frontal armor, ion-burn scoring, both arms nearly severed, severed cabling everywhere. All four barrels of the Storm Autocannon were snapped. The Siege Claw was damaged too.
If he remembered correctly, Leviathans had projectable shields. What kind of battle could damage a Siege Dreadnought this badly?
As for why Grace thought it resembled him—probably the helmet shape and aesthetic.
More concerning was the pilot. Space Marines interred wounded veterans into Dreadnoughts so they could continue serving The Emperor. But Leviathan pilots were notoriously unstable. Some believed it was due to compromises in radiation shielding around their nuclear reactors—no one truly knew.
From Ben's tone, the pilot clearly hadn't awakened. Otherwise, even with weapon arms ruined, the walking system still intact meant a Leviathan remained a terrifying war machine. One stomp could kill.
Just imagining it made Ignis uneasy. If it went berserk, it would absolutely hit headlines in New Eridu.
Ignis immediately donned his neuromuscular suit, locked on his power armor, grabbed Billy—who was watching tokusatsu in the living room—and told him to drive to Belobog Heavy Industries' Hollow-side construction site.
"You've been weird lately," Billy grumbled while slamming shut the truck's cargo door. "Yesterday you hugged everyone apologizing for something. Now you bolt out the door in full armor. Something happen?"
Something did. But nothing the Cunning Hares could interfere with.
"Belobog dug something out of a Hollow. They want me to check it."
"Isn't digging stuff out normal? We used to make a living off that." Billy paused. "Wait—youspecifically? Something related to you?"
Ignis didn't answer, but his silence was enough.
Billy stopped speaking, shut the door, and floored the accelerator.
During the drive, Ignis kept Ben on the line—warning them not to tamper with the mech. If the pilot woke, they needed to stay polite, avoid hostility, and answer nothing they weren't sure about. Everything would wait until he arrived.
Ben remained calm—the mech hadn't moved at all. Grace had run an ultrasonic scan; inside was a damaged human body, leaving her baffled. The power unit was dead, Fuel leakage unknown. They had already removed the rear armor and detached the ruined power system.
Reading this, Ignis nearly blacked out.
Grace truly was a genius… or blessed by the Omnissiah. She had simply removed a Leviathan's rear armor and extracted its power unit. Technology created in secret on Terra—no one should know how to open it.
But at least, without a power system, the pilot wouldn't rampage upon awakening. Ignis simply hoped the Imperial Fists veteran was still alive—and not driven mad by Leviathan-class neural bindings.
Another photo arrived. The Leviathan hung from a massive gantry crane on a repair platform. Both arms removed, joint housings exposed.
Not to be rude… but it looked like a roasted duck hanging.
Billy drove at the fastest speed that was still barely legal. Several Peacekeepers—New Eridu Public Security officers—tried to issue speeding tickets, but their scanners showed him precisely not exceeding the limit. They couldn't cite him.
A trip usually taking an hour took less than thirty minutes.
Ignis leapt out the instant the door opened. The Leviathan was impossible to miss—workers stared at it as they passed. A machine dug up from a Hollow, looking like something from the Old Capital—it drew endless speculation.
"The Emperor above…" Ignis muttered as he approached. "It's real."
"Looks like you recognize it. Good." Koleda Belobog, the small but imposing president, walked over. "This thing crushed a whole building, shattered a garage ceiling, and embedded itself in the ground. We needed three engineering machines to pull it out. Can you tell me what it is?"
"This is a Siege Dreadnought. A heavy war engine—Leviathan-class. I never thought I'd see one here."
"We figured it was some kind of weapon, but… what kind of enemy requires something this big? An ultra-large Ethereal?" Koleda asked.
"Far more terrifying than any Ethereal." Ignis looked around. "Where's Grace?"
"Up on the mech." Koleda shouted toward the suspended Leviathan.
Grace emerged from its shoulder armor—she'd clearly been inside the main chassis for a while.
Ignis watched her climb down the side of the Dreadnought, slide along a rope, and land on the ground.
"Mr. Ignis! You know what this machine is? Tell me everything! Why does ultrasound show a person inside?" Her face was flushed with excitement, eyes blazing. "What is it made for? What kind of enemies does its weaponry face?"