Chapter 146: Iron Man UR-025
"Don't chase me! It's not like I'm the one who made you lose your bodies and souls! Are you all insane? We didn't even get a single meal!"
The fleeing lights weren't ordinary stars; they were C'tan, the Star Gods of ancient legend. Their brilliance flickered like dying suns, radiating destructive energy even in their weakened state. But now, these once-mighty beings fled in terror across the void.
The C'tan darted through space, searching desperately for refuge. Behind them, Necron warships advanced in perfect formation, gauss energy beams cutting emerald lines through the darkness, sealing every escape route.
Cornered, the C'tan plunged toward a rift in the Warp. Their light dimmed instantly as they approached, as if the strange rules of that realm sapped their very essence.
"It seems I'm connected to Blackstone Fortress's memories now." Francis watched the vision unfold before him, finally understanding. More images flooded his consciousness.
The Blackstone Fortress had been an Aeldari weapon, designed to trap C'tan who tried to flee into the Warp. Then he sensed a presence, vague, questioning.
Francis considered the fortress's unspoken question. "I don't want others commandeering my fortress the moment they step aboard."
The machine spirit said nothing.
"So, we need to..." They communicated at length. Under Francis's guidance, they spent roughly a Terran day working together.
When Francis opened his eyes, he found himself surrounded by Tech-Priests, their faces a forest of distorted mechanical visages.
"Are you alright? Praise be to the Omnissiah!"
"Are you alright? Praise be to the Omnissiah!"
"Are you alright? Praise be to the Omnissiah!"
They repeated the phrase like a broken servitor, relief clear in their mechanical voices.
"Stop. We should continue searching for more Blackstone." Francis met their optical sensors with a level stare.
"Agreed, but we must return to Mars first. This fortress warrants extensive study." Archmagos Cawl pushed through the crowd, his multiple limbs clicking against the floor.
"That won't be possible. This fortress has bonded with me. You'll have to wait for the next one."
The Tech-Priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus tensed immediately. The atmosphere crackled with sudden hostility.
"Only the Adeptus Mechanicus possesses the knowledge to study it properly. You will waste this sacred technology by claiming it." Cawl's voice carried the weight of entire Mars itself.
The Tech-Priests and Soul Drinkers separated into distinct groups, servos whirring as hands moved toward weapons. As long as they weren't the ones to fire first, the Emperor couldn't hold them accountable.
Francis paused, then his expression shifted to something almost gentle. "Never mind. I prefer harmony among brothers. How about this...let's explore the rest of the fortress together and catalog what treasures it holds. Then we'll bring our findings to the Emperor and let him decide."
Francis smiled warmly, which made several Tech-Priests hesitate. They had prepared for confrontation, had their weapons ready. Now they felt ashamed. Their combat protocols had activated too quickly.
"Yes, that seems reasonable." The Tech-Priests calculated their options. They could pressure the Imperium with production quotas. The fortress would be theirs. It had to be.
Francis nodded and lifted UR-025, carrying the robot outside.
UR-025 remained silent.
Then a door opened. Pale blue light leaked through the gap, forcing everyone to squint. Inside, a transparent sphere rotated in mid-air, shimmering energy flowing within like captured memories. At the room's center stood a slender Aeldari device, its skeleton-like frame marked with faint psychic traces. Strange weapons and equipment lined the walls, radiating an ominous presence that drew the eye.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here, a Bygone Era Aeldari technology? Do you want some? If you do, walk right in." Francis stroked his chin thoughtfully, like opening a mystery box. "We should hold a fortress loot auction and make a fortune!"
The Mechanicus Tech-Priests energized instantly, as if injected with pure machine oil. Several nearly rushed forward before Cawl raised a mechadendrite, blocking their path.
"Why don't you enter first?" His mechanical voice was cold and measured.
'Still cautious, HuH He-He'. Francis shrugged and led the Soul Drinkers inside.
Bang!
The door slammed shut behind them.
"Hahaha! Thank you, Machine God! We're returning to Mars now. By the blessed circuits! This is pristine technology!"
Cawl pressed himself against the wall, tearing away a piece of his own armor to expose the meager flesh beneath, then pushed it directly onto the alien surface. His body twisted and writhed. The other Tech-Priests attached themselves to various pieces of equipment like zealots to a shrine. They had restrained themselves in front of outsiders, after all.
The Soul Drinkers inside the room said nothing.
"Boss, what do we do now?" they asked after a moment.
Francis looked up and sighed. "Ah, knowledge is power. They didn't know that the aliens in the corridor were all teleported here, which means we can teleport out."
Francis gave the command. Countless teleportation beams erupted throughout Blackstone Fortress! Blinding light flashed, and before the Tech-Priests could fully process what was happening, they found themselves standing in an endless red desert.
The Magos who'd been fused to the pillar now smelled distinctly of cooked meat.
Everyone stood frozen. They understood within seconds.
"We've been tricked! Francis intends to claim everything!"
"Damn him! How can he have absolutely no sense of brotherhood? Leaving us stranded here is utterly inhuman!" One Tech-Priest roared, waving prosthetic limbs as if he wanted to tear Francis apart.
"The Omnissiah will not forgive him. His machine spirits will forever malfunction!" Another slammed his scanner in fury. The device went dark. He stared at it, then roared in anguish.
One by one, the Tech-Priests abandoned their usual restraint and began cursing the empty air.
Cawl "..."
After an unknown amount of time, their warships materialized from nowhere, and a transmission came through.
"You were correct. The fortress accidentally displaced you. Your current location is far from our previous coordinates. The Primarch asks that you return to Mars and wait. He says even if it's just the two of them, they'll excavate the entire Blackstone. Well done!"
Hearing this, the Tech-Priests listened through gritted teeth, white smoke billowing from their heads.
...
Aboard the Abyss Roar, in the laboratory. Francis loomed over UR-025, who sat motionless on the floor, broadcasting a simple message.
"I am an automated data collection unit appointed by Magos Ethericus Nanctos III. Magos Ethericus Nanctos III appointed me. Magos Ethericus Nanctos III appointed me..."
As Francis drew closer, UR-025's broadcast became more frantic.
"Magos Ethericus Nanctos III appointed me! Magos Ethericus Nanctos III appointed me! I...don't come any closer!"
Just as UR-025 prepared to fight to the death, Francis's words made him freeze.
"It's no use. Even if you scream until your vox-unit fails, no one here will save you. You should just accept your role as my ship's steward."
Francis licked his lips. He had to admit, this tech-hating Iron Man still looked quite impressive.
"Why don't you destroy me?" UR-025's confusion was genuine. Almost all of his kind had died in the war between humans and the Iron Men. He knew that later empires classified them as Abominable Intelligence.
"Of course not! You even have the Imperial aquila emblazoned on your chest. I have high expectations for you. If you die, where would I find such Dark Age technology?" Francis took the robot's hands in his own, looking at him with deep sincerity.
In all his memory cells, UR-025 had never seen a human show such an expression to one of his kind.
UR-025 paused for a long moment. "Although I am an AI, I am genderless. But my current base programming suggests I should possess masculine characteristics. I can alter my higher-level logic, but..."
Francis's face contorted in confusion. "What absolute nonsense! Are you kidding me? There isn't a single romantic implication here!"
UR-025 "...."
The scene fell silent. Man and machine stared at each other.
"Uh, I just want to recruit you. Name your salary. Weekends off. Eight-hour workdays. My lab is completely open to you, and I'll provide all materials personally. You won't need to serve anyone else. Everyone here is equal."
UR-025 showed some interest but made no commitment.
Francis continued. "If you want to retire someday, I can prepare a planet for you and let you govern it from the shadows. As for safety, all I can say is that as long as I'm alive, you won't die before me. What do you think?"
UR-025 sensed sincere certainty, which was unexpected. This was very different from the humans he'd encountered over the years. The Primarch didn't seem to care about taboos at all.
"There must be other requirements, though. Taboos. Things that cannot be done." UR-025 stared directly at Francis, who sighed.
"You're right. There are boundaries. The most important rule is that you cannot create your own kind, or any degraded version of your kind. I'm sure you can't guarantee that every Iron Man would be like you."
This condition was within UR-025's expectations. His optical sensors flickered as he calculated various possible outcomes.
Finally, UR-025 stood and extended a mechanical arm. "It's a pleasure doing business with you."
Francis extended his own arm. "Pleasure to cooperate."
The moment their hands clasped signified that a major change was about to occur.
"Um, I've heard of a Dark Age product called the nerve whip. Supposedly, a single lash can damage both body and soul. Hey, dont look at me like that, I didn't mean anything weird by bringing it up..."
[End of Chapter]
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