59: Chapter 59 Whispers of the Machine Soul and the Blue Trap

Gluck thought for a moment.

It was as if he was pondering how to explain a complex matter in the simplest words.

He could understand Sister Superior Ludmilla's vigilance—in this dark universe, excessive "refinement" and "tidiness" were often more unsettling than filth and decay.

Behind this hid order, discipline, abundant resources, and perhaps—cold arrogance.

The operational code of such a "perfect" army might be vastly different from the rough troops on the front lines fighting for survival.

They might be as elegant as nobles, or just as ruthless, treating life like blades of grass.

Vulcan-IV was now just such a refined, tidy world.

Here, the machine spirits, with the help of Icarus, had truly awakened their souls.

They could patrol the edge of the Warp, providing people with Warp early warnings; even several powerful machine spirits, such as the Land Raider and the Lucius melta cannon, could eliminate weak daemons preparing to invade this world from the periphery of the Warp.

Not banishment, but total annihilation—just like the legends of those powerful individuals who wielded the Emperor's psychic power.

And because of this, the warriors here began learning to understand that README, learning to communicate with their weapons and all machinery possessing a machine spirit.

They learned how to maintain these "old friends" and how to keep them in a pleasant state.

This made them look less like the Imperium's main battle forces and more like a private noble army.

But these words could not be spoken to the Sisters of Battle now.

It was too subversive; it both violated the dogma of the Adeptus Mechanicus and blasphemed the faith of the Imperial Ecclesiarchy.

"I suppose so." After a moment of thought, that was all he could answer.

"I suppose so?"

Sister Superior Ludmilla repeated the word, her vigilance instantly reaching its peak.

Elena, behind her, had already quietly raised the muzzle of her melta cannon slightly.

It was not a targeted threat, just an instinctive reaction from switching from "standby" to "ready."

The coils of the melta cannon emitted a faint buzzing sound, ready for action.

Elena pulled Vera up, shielding her behind herself.

Vera took the opportunity to retreat into the shadows of the Thunderhawk Gunship, her light gray eyes scanning the surroundings uneasily.

Her hands clutched her prayer beads tightly, her knuckles turning white.

Her lips moved silently—this was not prayer, but a desperate attempt to suppress her own psychic perception.

It seemed she had "heard" something she shouldn't have from Gluck's soul and his resonance with this world.

machine spirits had awakened consciousness? And even killed small daemons in the Warp?

Gluck, however, did not mind this obvious hostility.

He did not step back, did not raise a hand to signal soldiers to advance, and certainly did not make any movement that could be interpreted as "escalating the threat."

He just stood there, looking at them with that weary yet incomparably sincere gaze.

Then, he raised his hand and pointed to the sky.

"Do you see the blue?" he asked, his tone as flat as if stating the most ordinary of facts.

"Three months ago, this was still blood red."

After speaking, he pointed into the distance—toward the Hive City surrounded by green lawns.

Sister Superior Ludmilla looked in the direction of his finger.

That Hive City was no different from any other she had seen: rising from the surface like a rusted steel nail, piercing deep into the firmament.

But around it, there were no industrial waste heaps, no slums—only a stretch of green, real, living lawn.

"The residents of the Hive City are moving out."

Gluck continued, his tone still flat, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, as if he had told a joke only he understood.

"Because the air outside is better. Also, because the population of Vulcan-IV has now been reduced from billions to eighty-seven million, and after the surface and atmosphere were transformed by Icarus, there is enough for everyone on this world to live."

His tone suddenly sank, carrying a trace of undisguisable sorrow: "A year ago, our Titan Legio, following the Regent's awakening, went to join the 'Indomitus Crusade'."

"Half a year ago, our ships were completely destroyed by a Warp storm."

"Three months ago, when our Astropath attempted to communicate a plea for help, the Ork Warlord Mogg smashed their brain."

"Our PDF had already been decimated in previous sporadic Ork invasions."

"We had no help from the Astartes; the only armed force in the entire world was the twenty thousand Skitarii under the Archmagos."

He paused, then asked rhetorically: "Where is the protection of the Imperium? Where is Ultramar?"

Without waiting for Sister Superior Ludmilla to answer, he continued, his tone becoming a bit more impassioned: "But we won this apocalyptic-level invasion, comparable to the Battle of Calumus, launched by five million Orks and three hundred ships."

"The Orks were completely defeated by Icarus using pure mathematical calculation, and they fled in panic."

"So I can only say 'I suppose so'—our world once offered everything best to the Imperium, but the Imperium ignored our plight."

"The nobles fled, the Inquisition evacuated, the Ecclesiarchy left, and the Navy turned and left after watching for a while."

"Only the Archmagos stayed with us to resist. Then, Icarus came."

"It followed our request and gave us the life we wanted. It is still transforming this planet, saying it wants to turn it into a 'Gaia'."

As he spoke, Gluck pulled something out of his robe pocket.

Three energy bars.

The packaging was very simple, just ordinary silver foil, but the seals were pressed neatly.

The wrapper was printed with a logo—one Sister Superior Ludmilla did not recognize.

It was not the cog of the Adeptus Mechanicus, not the Imperial Aquila, nor any legion or chapter emblem she had ever seen.

It was a simple pattern, composed of a gear and surrounding bands of light, resembling the holy symbol of the Adeptus Mechanicus, but the lines were clean, lacking the rigidity of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and instead full of vitality.

On the packaging was a line of Low Gothic in a rounded font: "Chocolate Flavor."

Gluck handed over the energy bars, one for each.

Sister Superior Ludmilla did not take them.

Gluck's hand hung in mid-air, waiting for a few seconds; he neither retracted it nor changed his expression because of the rejection.

He just held it there, as if he had all the time in the world.

"This is real food," he said slowly. "Icarus helped us extract carbon, hydrogen, and nitrogen from the atmosphere and minerals, then synthesized these energy bars."

"We are not short of food now, and are even preparing to start grain trade."

"This star system has a blue giant star, and it is constantly shedding matter—hydrogen, nitrogen, carbon—which means our food supply is endless."

He said it with complete composure, as if he were introducing a local specialty from some tourist destination.