[center][h1]The Angelus Machina[/h1][/center]

One-One’s eyes darted over the data-slate with an indifference not unlike those found within the Martian tech cults that controlled the cities. She consumed the data within-milliseconds, her bionics feeding the data to her in digestible chunks so as to not overload her. Yet, the priestess would be overwhelmed at the data she read, not for fear or shock but of awe and amazement as to how the Angelus, Usriel, was performing. It exceeded her expectation by a margin nearly incomprehensible to any normal standard for while still only a child, One-One had taken to teaching him advanced formulations that even adepts in the Cult Mechanicum would struggle to learn. Her emotion dampeners struggled to suppress happiness that dwelled underneath her skin and if she could smile, she would. 

The sound of shifting sheets broke her from her trance and she looked over her shoulder, to see Nirek stirring from his slumber as morning light began to breach through their singular window. She watched him from the periphery of her vision, falsely making her focus seem to be that of the data-slate. His synth-muscle was illuminated softly in that light as he stood, tall and proud as any freeman would - the years and augments have always been kind to her husband. Tempted, she would finally lower the slate before fully turning to Nirek, meeting his smiling gaze with her indifferent gaze. 

“Good morning, my love,” Nirek said, striding over to the One-One who lowered her white-hood and allowed her more human looks to meet his eyes. She always knew that he liked her human aspect, though One-One always viewed it as a weakness. Still, she indulged him as Nirek embraced her, reciprocating it with a single arm. As he pulled away he spoke to her, asking “How long have you been up?”

“This is the 50th day since I’ve last slept,” One-One replied without a beat, as she turned away from Nirek to continue scrolling through the data-slate. The priestess’ synthetic voice chimed to a different subject, “Usriel’s mental development is at an unprecedented level, Nirek. His understanding of the machine, mathematics, and the holy scripture matches any priest. He continues to prove that he is the [b]Angelus Machina[/b].”

Nirek did not seem interested in her fascination, however, knowing that he always wished to treat Usriel just as any parent would treat a child and not like the omnissiac figure that One-One knew him to be. He stepped past the lithe form that was his wife and instead walked over to the window, looking out the barren, fortress-ridden land that was Vion 5. His deep blue eyes wanted to look at the priestess, but all he could do was let out a sigh. Already knowing, One-One had lowered the pad once more - sensing minor distress as she had mentioned Usriel’s title. The scavenger would never understand, however, for he was never inducted into the Machine Cult and so would not truly understand the breadth of what Usriel’s title would mean. 

“He is of age, One-One. I need to show him to the Maris,” Nirek said without his usual optimism, sparking a look from One-One who clenched her metallic hands. She could not respond for Nirek did not allow her to, “I know how you feel, but the warlords need to know who to protect.”

“He is not ready for the cruelties of the warlords,” One-One said with an odd sense of maternal instinct, her glowing optics flaring for a brief moment before her dampeners calmed her once more. She loosed a modulated sigh as she stepped over to Nirek, knowing that he spoke the truth but still unwilling to want Usriel to be tainted by outside influence.There was a moment as the two look over the lands from their own redoubt, the rocky crags forming natural killing funnels that the ancient defenders of the planet used to wage war. Yet, now all that stood was the silence of the dead. Her head inclined towards her lover, “I must run additional tests, the Angel- Usriel, must be tested.”

“If he is as capable as you say then he will be fine,” Nirek said softly, unlike the coddling nature of One-One, he wanted Usriel to grow as any boy would which, on Vion 5, meant that he must be shown to a warlord, for they held armies and warriors capable of fending off the likes of the Cult of the True Machine. He turned away from the window and began walking, ready to take Usriel. A tug on his arm caused him to stop - but he needn’t turn. Nirek could feel the burning gaze of One-One.

“Nirek, that boy will be taken if Maris sees his potential just as he had taken you,” One-One spoke with a venom in her modulated voice. Nirek had relented and turned to her. There was more to come, “War and military is not what he needs or wants - the same the Cult would do if they knew what he was. Allow him to be the bright scholar that he can be.”

Nirek inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. Still, though, he did not speak because he knew that she spoke true, that Usriel did not deserve the possibility of being dragged into conflict. One-One and Nirek stared deep into each other’s eyes in a battle of mental fortitude. Yet, it would be the priestess who would dare to look away first, restrained anger filling her in the moment. There would be no changing the course of this meeting, Nirek would not allow it. 

“Our Angelus will not be taken from us,” Nirek promised, once more bringing One-One into his rust-tinged skin. There was a softness to his voice that soothed her and she desired nothing more than to have her worries assuaged. The situation, however, only wrought worry and worry brought with it a gripping fear of losing the closest thing she had to a son.

“May the Omnissiah make that true.”

[hr]

Small hands worked around delicate circuitry, twisting wires and searching for new access points amongst complex machinery. Usriel moved as if he were a master amongst the machines that connected to the neuro-linked drone. The child reached over to grasp a splicing tool that had been neatly arranged on a bench. His blue eyes scanned the wiring placement for a brief moment before he slowly moved it to a different connection. The Angelus sealed the connection before leaning away from the servo-arm. Happiness at another successful job spread through his face, but he needed to know that it worked properly.

Usriel looked up to the drone who impassively looked at the servo-arm that had just been fully connected by bare hands. The child needn’t speak  any command, instead moving the mechanical back and forth, up and down, twisting and turning the claw. The child’s happiness grew and grew before he met the drone’s indifferent stare and asked it a simple question that was overfilled with joy, “Do you like it, Unit 17?”

No vocal answer came from the drone but instead it gave a light smile that only Usriel would even notice. The lips almost inconceivably curled into a smile before vanishing as the lobotomized person stood and moved to do new duties that would be assigned to it. Usriel, for his part, would put down his tool and the giant arm of the workshop automatically retracted back to its starting position in the wall. The child slowly crawled out of his chair belly first, afraid it would roll away as he moved - but it didn’t much to his own relief. 

The door to the works slid open, forcing the child’s head to snap over and see the form of One-One stepping into the cold air of her work area. It was a miracle that she did not instantly chastise the boy for being within a prohibited area. Still, Usriel’s feet snapped together and his arms went to his side. One-One inspected the area quickly before she walked up to the boy, looking down with him a glare that could easily be construed as cold. Her modulated voice broke the silence, “What were you doing in here, Usriel?”

The child did not want to answer at first, but he knew the punishment for noncompliance, a timid voice came, “I was making the servo-arm for Unit 17, I heard you say that the bio-chemical connector was giving you trouble.”

“And does this arm work?” One-One asked, her glowing eyes flickering for a moment - a sign Usriel had gathered meant that she was ordering one of the drones. He picked up on such signals quickly enough but he knew that she was going to inspect his work just as she always did. She began to circle him.

“It does, mother. The original problem was the wiring, it couldn’t pull the electrical signals from the body. I had to take it apart and rebuild it,” Usriel responded, keeping his head down as she stopped behind him. He expected to be chastised and yet she wrapped her arms around his small frame, gingerly. It surprised the Angelus for One-One was not known for showing her affections to Usriel often but his hand traveled to grasp hers. There was a brief pause between any words as One-One let out a raspy breath. It seemed to him that her emotional dampeners were faulty. 

“You continue to amaze me, my little Angelus,” One-One cooed, scooping up the boy effortlessly to carry him away from her workspace. Her tone went back to indifference as she walked, explaining to her son, “We will be going to the Great Bastion today - you must meet the Lord Maris as per your father’s wishes. I am accompanying you, Angelus, so as to safeguard you.”

“Father will safeguard us,” Usriel said softly. One-One did not respond to the child’s words, instead diligently marching him outside where Nirek was waiting, speeder ready. She continued to hold him even as Nirek gave her a steady glare, though Usriel caught his attention with a wide smile. The scavenger was always happy whenever the Angelus smiled, as any parent would, despite the circumstance ahead of them.

“Usriel, are you ready to see the Great Bastion?” Nirek asked with a soft smile coming across his face, One-One gently lowered the boy into the speeder. 

The Star Child cocked his head to the side, “We are going to meet Lord Maris, correct?”

“Aye, the Bastion-Lord must look to any prospective child that is under his domain,” Nirek said to his son, entering the driver’s seat of the vehicle. As he moved to start the engine to the speeder, it hummed to life on its own and so the man gave a confused look before looking at his wife. One-One shook her head in denial, knowing what Nirek looked to her for. He shook away the confusion, instead speaking to Usriel, “I must stress, boy, that whatever Maris asks you to do, restrain yourself.”

“Why? You always tell me to do my best?” Usriel asked instantly, giving no reprieve to his father at the moment.

“Just don’t. Not this time, Angelus,” One-One said instead of Nirek, earning only more confusion from Usriel, but the child did not dig further. He sensed that something was amiss. Would he embarrass his family? Why did he need to restrain himself? The child did not know, perhaps he did not wish to know either as worried thoughts began to cloud his mind. To distract himself, Usriel looked to the countryside that roared past them - towering guns lay distant, pointed towards the skies. Rocky mountains clambered over each other in the horizon, only occasionally interrupted by debris fields of destroyed vehicles that lay half-buried. 

Hidden deep within the layers of rock and metal lie the remnants of ancient fortresses, silent witnesses to the fierce battles that once raged upon them. These ruined fortresses, now buried and forgotten, hold a haunting aura that whispers stories of valor, conquest, and the passage of time. The skeletal remains of once-mighty walls, crumbling towers, and shattered battlements evoke a sense of desolation and melancholy. Nature, with its relentless grip, has intertwined with the ruins, creating a surreal tapestry where vines reclaim what was once man-made.

As the layers of earth and debris cover these forgotten strongholds, the battles they witnessed become lost in the mists of history. The echoes of clashing swords and thunderous war cries are replaced by the eerie silence that surrounds the fallen stones. Time has painted these ancient battlegrounds with a melancholic beauty, as rusted weapons, decaying armors, and fragments of forgotten lives rest untouched beneath the weight of ages. These ruins stand as testaments to the impermanence of power and the transient nature of human conflict. 

Usriel often fixated upon these derelict fortresses, especially when Nirek had brought him along to scavenge what remained. The child knew what these great buildings of long nights were for - to protect and safeguard. He gazed and saw a collapsed tower and he wondered how it might have looked in its prime, what wonders the planet had hidden deep in rubble and earth. Yet, his thoughts were disturbed as he looked forwards - seeing what they now rapidly approached.

Amidst the rugged terrain of a desolate world, a colossal fortress rises like an ancient titan, its metallic spires reaching the heavens. Crafted from plasteel and fortified with other resilient metals, this fortress stands as a testament to human engineering and technological prowess. Towering as tall as the tallest mountains that surround it, its imposing presence dominates the landscape, inspiring awe and fear in equal measure. Time has failed to tarnish its gleaming surface, and its impenetrable structure remains a formidable bulwark against the elements and any potential intruders.

In the heart of this awe-inspiring citadel, four massive orbital guns stand poised, like guardians of a long-forgotten realm. Once a beacon of interstellar trade and prosperity, the planet beneath no longer sees the arrival of stellar ships, leaving the fortress in a state of isolation. The orbital guns, now relics of a bygone era, serve as a haunting reminder of the world's lost glory. Now, they aim to the skies, a silent warning to any ships that might dare venture into this forsaken land. Despite the fortress's current isolation, the mysteries it holds and the stories it conceals still beckon explorers and adventurers from across the galaxy, drawn to uncover the secrets of this monumental fortress lost to time.

Usriel stared in awe. Soon, they would be wandering within that mountain sized fortress, walking its intricate halls and seeing how life was. One-One looked back to him and spoke in a coo, “See what we once had Usriel, know that you may well inherit it all.”

[hr]

“Tell me boy, what is your name?” a voice asked, the boy who could merely looked down to his feet. Usriel had been told not to look up but he knew it would be rude to disrespect someone known as a Bastion-Lord, especially under the light of his own halls with men clad in armor, wielding axe-headed spears that hummed ever loudly in his mind. His nerves were beginning to overcome him, the machines that traveled the length of the great fortress hummed far too loudly for the boy's mind to handle. They all spoke to him in inaudible static that not even One-One would have been able to understand - it was a horrid experience.

A hand brought him from his stupor, causing the Angelus to look up and see the man that sat perched on an iron throne. He was larger than even his father, scars littered his face and both of his eyes had been replaced by a singular glowing optic that resembled his own mother’s. He gulped down fear, “I am U-Usriel Andreadth, Lord Maris.”

Maris looked over the boy, seemingly scanning him with his machine-eye, before he arose and looked towards Nirek. There was a silence between them before Maris’ massive form walked towards them, his white glare moving towards One-One as he did. He spoke in a tone that seemed to bring dread to Usriel, “The boy, he is Mechanicum taught. How much does he know?”

“He knows little, Maris. He has not been inducted into the cult,” One-One spat instantly, venom claiming her augment voice, her grip on her son’s shoulder tightened. 

“Please, you expect me to believe that?” Maris chuckled grimly before looking to Nirek, continuing his question with his hands wrapped behind his back, “How much does he know?”

Unlike One-One, Nirek would not lie, speaking confidently and stepping forwards, “Usriel has been taught by One-One since birth, m’lord. He is bright and knows his way around the workbench just as any child in the slums might.” The father postured, puffing out his chest and meeting the mechanical looking Maris’ one eye with a one that was as unwavering as the fortress they now conversed in. The two cast glares at each other, speaking in a silence before Maris took a step back, turning away from the family.

“Very well. I needn’t ask the boy if he has fought yet. He looks as though he may shatter at any moment, he has not seen war,” Maris commented, returning to his throne for the time being before motioning to slender man that moved on ten mechanical legs. The abomination brought a long table that hummed with a blue light - a projection of a vast array of mechanical parts and other such items lay there. Maris spoke as the clicking tendrils of the abomination skittered away, “Yet, Usriel,” he spoke to the boy directly, “Come, I desire you to build something for me.”

Usriel looked to One-One who merely glared at Maris, then to Nirek who moved to his mother to get her to release her rather painful grip on that moment. Nirek nodded to the boy and the Angelus timidly began to approach the great Bastion Lord. Each step was heavy, bringing further panic to his mind, it was only at the other side of the holo-table that he stopped with a heart pounding so hard that it threatened to make the boy collapse.

“Make a weapon for me, boy. That priest surely has taught you the inner workings of any weapon that the Mechanicum uses. Show me what you know,” Maria beckoned in a cruel voice. Yet, the boy only stood frozen before he looked at the table, One-One had not taught him anything of the Mechanicum, but he had studied without her supervision on many of the sleepless nights that he had. He knew of what he would make, but fear gripped him.

The boy looked back to One-One and Nirek, seeing fear plastered on both of their faces forced his resolve to harden. Usriel turned back to Maris, resolution burned within him and he desired never to see his parents so worried. No, despite their wishes, he haunches over the table and began to work. Hands adeptly moved, it may have been a mock forging but he treated it as if it were real - he moved faster than any in the room could comprehend and practiced precision overtook him.

It became clear of what he was forging instantly - a weapon of plasma.

The creation of this devastating weapon begins with carefully sourcing the necessary materials. The core components, including a plasma coil, energy capacitors, and a power cell, must be forged from rare alloys and refined plasma-grade materials, ensuring their resilience and conductivity.

The artisan then meticulously assembles the plasma gun, painstakingly connecting the components with precision and care. Each connection is made with specialized plasma-resistant wiring, meticulously soldered to withstand the immense energy output of the weapon. The plasma coil, the heart of the gun, is meticulously wound and calibrated to create the controlled plasma discharge characteristic of the weapon.

Once the physical assembly is complete, the artisan moves on to the programming and fine-tuning stage. A sophisticated control system is installed, allowing the wielder to adjust the plasma gun's energy output, firing modes, and safety mechanisms. This stage demands both technical expertise and an understanding of the volatile nature of plasma energy. The artisan fine-tunes the weapon, ensuring its stability and efficiency, taking extra precautions to prevent catastrophic overheating or misfires. It was grueling, yet Usriel continued on.

It was not long until he had finished, the final product now humming as the mock weapon it was. Proudly, Usriel looked back to his parents but they looked horrified - he had done what they had asked him not to do. A cruel laugh echoed behind him.

“You lied to me, Nirek,” Maris spoke, rising over the table, his massive form drowning out the very light itself. Usriel went to run but the Bastion Lord reached over the table and grasped the boy by his neck.

“Angelus!” One-One cried, stepping forwards only to be held back by Nirek. 

“Maris, don’t do this,” Nirek growled angrily, his synthetic muscle straining to hold back the priestess who cursed in a binary tongue that only Usriel understood. The father wanted to move forwards to reclaim his son, but he knew far better than to act on instinct as the armored men readied their weapons, pointing at them. Yet, he knew what Maris wanted, he knew that their wish of family would be wrought away from them just as it had been done before. He let out a sigh. He looked at Maris with a fire, “He is all we desire, Maris. Do not take him from us.”

“Your family was forfeited when you promised me a warrior in your first son, and see how that turned out,” Maris grunted, motioning to the guards for them to take the two out his sight.

One-One broke free of her husband’s grip and stepped forwards, flashing an axe of the Omnissiah and burning it into the plasteel floor. For a moment it seemed as if she would slay each and every one of the men that stood between her and her son, but she froze. The tech-priest collapsed to her knees and would plead with Maris, “Allow me to say goodbye to my Angelus, you already took one from us. Allow me this, so that I may be given what little peace you can grant me.”

A moment of consideration flashed, silence filled the room before dropping the boy to the ground, who in turn scrambled to his parents. Usriel embraced his mother and Nirek quickly enveloped the both of them as well, tears streaming down all of their faces. A wavering, modulated voice spoke out amidst sobs, “Usriel, know that you are my Angelus, and nothing shall change that. Take my axe, may it serve you well and you shall know that I will never be too far, me nor your father.”

He was confused, scared as to what was happening but he understood perfectly as to what the Bastion Lord was taking from him. The confusion was only about why it was happening to him. It was Nirek’s voice that broke the sobs, “My son, we shall see you soon.” With those words he broke the family apart, shoving Usriel back and dragging One-One away, who cried out for her son who was quickly surrounded by the guards of the room. As the doors closed behind his parents, all he could do was grasp the Omnissiahan Axe that was parted to him, imagining One-One’s embrace in that moment - but it was no substitute and there would be no comfort, especially not when he looked to Maris with grief, anger, pain. 

His voice came slowly, cruelly and maliciously, “Come now, boy. We will make a warrior of your pitiful line yet.”