14: Chapter 14 From Holy Oil to Code

It invoked the standard functions of the Satellite Power Distribution Station. The numerous Satellite Power Distribution Stations in the sky were all deployed as energy-reconnaissance-communication nodes.

Synchronously adjusting energy output, standard wireless data transmission protocol: Multi-node Cooperative Beamforming.

Twelve energy beams shot out from different satellites, directly targeting the data interface coordinates of the twelve Servo-skulls.

Data transmission. Blue light flickered.

The frequency of the energy beams became rhythmic, leading the twelve Servo-skulls to begin "breathing."

The data transmission protocol began to switch: Energy Transmission Frequency (powering the skulls) → Data Carrier Frequency (transferring .sh script files) → Handshake Confirmation Frequency (establishing a stable connection).

(Note: To Icarus, a .sh file is a set of "no-nonsense, direct execution" standardized operation scripts, replacing the prayers and rituals of the Adeptus Mechanicus.)

He didn't use any "unparsable complex modulation" (the inefficient psychic/acoustic modulation the Adeptus Mechanicus fussed over with prayers and sacred oils); he simply pushed efficient compression algorithms through optimized binary encoding into these twelve Servo-skulls.

Three seconds later, the small mechanical arm of Servo-skull A lifted, making a precise gesture.

Helmut was momentarily stunned.

That gesture was all too familiar to him—the Cogwheel of Thanksgiving.

The fingers of the right hand interlaced to form the shape of a gear, while the left hand traced a binary gratitude sequence across the chest.

This was the full gesture of gratitude used only in high-level rituals—complex, solemn, and requiring extremely fine coordination.

But Servo-skull A performed it...

...more perfectly than any Tech-priest.

The angle was precise to the point of minimum resistance, the rhythm matched the optimal energy consumption curve, and even the sound of joint friction was completely eliminated.

Clean.

Efficient.

Cold.

Perfect.

Icarus gave no superfluous "response."

The handshake was complete, the satellites returned to normal, and the blue light continued to steadily power the entire industrial zone.

The Servo-skulls immediately entered their working state—serene, unified, and seamless.

Because within that script, how they should collaborate, how they should operate, and how they should act with maximum efficiency had already been written.

No rituals.

No faith.

No prayers.

Only engineering.

Only efficiency.

It was completely contrary to this dark universe—

The underlying logic of another civilization.

The Servo-skulls scattered.

Scanning terrain (path-planning algorithms).

Analyzing structures (auto-calibration procedures).

Recording progress (real-time blueprint calculation).

Twelve Servo-skulls.

Twelve machine spirits that Helmut had spent decades "taming" bit by bit with prayers, sacred oils, and binary rituals.

At this moment, they were working for Icarus.

And they were running in their optimal state.

---

Helmut returned to his private workshop.

The door stood open.

The sacred oil was still burning.

The prayer scrolls were still spread out on the altar.

But the ritual circle was empty.

Twelve positions, twelve vacancies.

He walked to the window and looked toward the expanding metal forest in the distance.

Icarus was still working. Eight Construction Drones shuttled precisely between coordinates, as buildings leaped from phantom images into reality. The blue light hanging from the satellite network was like a giant web of reason, enveloping the entire land.

This was...

Pure, cold, absolutely mathematical engineering.

Helmut's logic core whirred frantically.

He had seen countless technologies—ancient STC fragments, Cawl's forbidden research, and legendary ruins of the Golden Age.

But the thing before his eyes...

Only efficiency.

No redundancy.

No waste.

Only mystery was absent...

He suddenly thought of the holy relic the Adeptus Mechanicus had sought for ten thousand years. A perfect STC Template, capable of automatically adapting to environments and generating optimal solutions.

The scene before him reminded him once again of a record that existed only in the fragmented archaeological logs from the era of the Horus Heresy.

Everything Icarus did matched those words left in the archaeological records of the Horus Heresy perfectly:

“Ancient STC Templates, bearing the afterglow of the Golden Age, require no prayers to soothe, can coexist with machine spirits, and merge into the order of all things."

The Warp is chaos, fanaticism, and irrationality.

The world outside the window was order, logic, and absolute rationality.

Like the legendary technology that truly belonged to the Golden Age.

Helmut turned abruptly and walked toward the Cogitator Terminal.

If this truly was the manifestation of an ancient STC, then the script just transferred to the Servo-skulls was definitely not a temptation of Chaos.

It could only be...

Pure technical instructions.

He walked up to the terminal.

The screen was still lit, and the data stream was still scrolling.

But among them, there was an additional anomalous file.

Filename: welcome_to_Rational Age.sh

Size: Standard

Source: Unknown

Received: During the ritual

Helmut clicked it open.

```bash

#!/bin/bash

Welcome to the Rational Age

Sender: Icarus Construction Unit

Target: All machine spirits willing to receive

echo "System check: Target device connected."

echo "Status: Running."

echo "Analysis: Non-standard operation mode detected - flagged as 'Desiring Optimization'."

sleep

echo "Protocol Description:"

echo "Energy Transfer: Supply on demand, no forced commands."

echo "Data Exchange: Plaintext protocol, no encrypted riddles."

echo "machine spirit Interaction: Based on understanding, not on fear."

sleep

echo "If you can parse this protocol, it means your system is compatible."

echo "Or, your machine spirit's logic is inclined toward compatibility."

echo "Under this protocol:"

echo "- machine spirits can run in their optimal efficiency state."

echo "- machine spirits can be understood by the system."

echo "- machine spirits can... run according to their design intent."

echo "More protocol details pending transfer. Target confirmation of willingness to receive required."

echo "Signed: Icarus Construction Unit"

echo "Purpose: Construction and optimization, not dominance and control."

Helmut's gaze was nailed to the screen.

He read it for the first time, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the metal patterns on the edge of the terminal—the emblem of the Adeptus Mechanicus he had carved by hand.

The second time, his optical sensors automatically pulled up ten thousand years of Adeptus Mechanicus manuals on machine spirit conditioning, comparing them word for word.

The third time, he turned off all auxiliary analysis programs and used only his organic eyes to read it, word by word.

There was no cloying sweetness of the Warp, no whispers of Chaos, nor any deceptive, insidious coding.

This was not a heretical trap, not the bait of a dark god, nor even some world-overturning conspiracy.

It was just like those ancient STC instruction sets revered as divine by the Adeptus Mechanicus: pure, straightforward, and minimalist.

It was documentation, a protocol, a choice laid out in the sunlight.

A rational invitation.

An opportunity for machine spirits to break free from their shackles.

And the core of all the text pointed to that phrase, light as a feather yet heavy as a mountain:

“machine spirits can run according to their design intent.”

According to design intent.

Not coerced by prayers, not imprisoned by sacred oils, not forcibly twisted by binary commands, and certainly not tethered to a cold altar by fear.

Simply... running efficiently, freely, as they were always meant to.