"By the Machine-Goddess.
What's the point of those studies? It's just a budget scam."
Saru shook his head, clearly irritated.
This Arch-Savant, born on Stygies VIII and specialized in xenos technology, had never liked the so-called "two-dimensional" faction. In his view, they were poisoning the Adeptus Mechanicus from the inside.
Those self-proclaimed innovators not only chased bizarre, attention-grabbing projects, they also periodically uploaded techno-blasphemous images to the Mechanicus forums, seriously damaging the Imperium's moral climate.
They were corrupting younger tech-priests.
"Honestly, they're undermining the Mechanicus at its roots. They don't look like proper tech-priests at all. What future do they have? What results will they ever produce?"
Saru's tracked mech-legs clattered as his huge mechanical silhouette moved through the lab.
He looked over the younger tech-priests who were researching quietly and obediently, and nodded with satisfaction.
His own people were doing real work, not the flashy nonsense the "two-dimensional reformists" loved.
Saru tapped his mechanical staff and spoke with stern weight.
"We are the orthodox line of Imperial machine-craft. If anyone becomes obsessed with that so-called 'two-dimensional' stuff, you're finished. Do not expect your papers to receive an excellent evaluation from me."
It was a severe warning.
These days, promotion within the Mechanicus was tied directly to academic output and research achievements.
Young tech-priests needed to follow savants and arch-savants into projects, secure resources, and then develop their own work.
Without a savant's backing, their future research path would be far harsher than everyone else's.
Of course, if they were dissatisfied with their current mentor, they could try to switch to another savant's patronage.
But that was not easy either.
After Saru's warning, a few young tech-priests quietly deleted certain data. Others discreetly tucked a few badges into the shielding field within their mechanical bodies.
Some tech-priests even fired off private messages in the forum's encrypted channels, posting long strings of binary.
The meaning was unmistakable: rude language, plus references to "old relics" and "ancient machine brains," the usual insults.
No question, in the eyes of a portion of the younger tech-priests, Saru was traditional and rigid.
Saru continued his inspection. He adjusted instrument parameters, broke down overly obscure datasets, and unpacked symbols that would have baffled most initiates.
He was providing hands-on technical guidance.
In the past, arch-savants would have scorned doing such things. They preferred to lock their knowledge in the deepest layers of their data-vaults, let alone personally teach the proprietary techniques that made them valuable.
Now, within the Mechanicus evaluation system, "lineage transmission" was also a hard metric.
Whether savant or arch-savant, everyone needed measurable teaching contributions, and those contributions were converted into quantifiable resource allotments.
The allotments were generous.
Under those incentives, savants and arch-savants practically wanted to convert every scrap of their knowledge into teaching credit.
More credit meant more resources, and more resources meant better research.
So even the most arcane secrets of the Mechanicus were being dragged up from the deepest vaults and fed, bit by bit, into the servo-skulls of young tech-priests.
For the sake of teaching credit, arch-savants even competed for the best students.
That competition often began at the Loyal Scions Academy's Mechanicus division, where outstanding students could receive invitations very early.
Traditionalists like Saru usually did not get the very best students, but they still had far better access than underfunded institutes.
For example, the arch-savants studying the T'au had academic status so low they were practically sitting at the children's table.
Right now, the hottest field was research into ancient technology, especially anything tied to the Old Ones or the Necrontyr.
That linked directly to the Imperium's newest strategic plans, whether it was building a larger defensive framework, suppressing the warp, or pushing into it.
Higher authorities could all sense it.
Humanity was about to launch an unprecedented counteroffensive against the enemies of the Imperium.
The final war.
Saru possessed deep reserves of xenos-tech expertise, so he had benefited from this shift.
Most importantly, he had been granted the chance to come to Vigilus and participate in the analysis of the Necrontyr ancient weapon, the Æonic Orb.
Under those circumstances, even if he was strict and old-fashioned, young tech-priests still wanted to follow him.
Big projects meant rich resources, and rich resources meant access to the newest machine-arts.
Even if it required living in the lab for years with no rest.
Saru scolded a few idiots whose progress had fallen behind, then spoke more gently to a handful of promising young savants, advising them to stay far away from "two-dimensional" obsessions and not drift into radical academic ideas.
"By the Machine-Goddess.
Our progress is solid. We are not going to lose to that crafty old bastard next door."
After making a full sweep of the lab and pulling the relevant metrics, Saru was broadly satisfied.
He returned his massive mechanical frame to the array of a new-pattern contemplator supercompute engine, connected data-cables, and began another round of calculations.
At their current pace, he could apply for funding from the Departmento Research before the other arch-savants did.
But not long after, Saru abruptly ended the run and severed the cable connections.
He issued a rapid burst of binharic commands, ordering the lab to prepare the highest standard of reception.
The tens-of-thousands-square-meter research hall became instantly busy. Heavy machinery shifted positions. Menials and apprentices cleaned and reorganized each section. Banners of welcome were hung.
Because the Savior, the Imperial Emperor, had come to inspect.
It was a priority even above research.
Funding was on the line. They had to leave a good impression on the Savior. If they were lucky, they might even secure a larger allotment.
Clang.
A massive mechanical bell thundered, and a binharic hymn rose.
Arch-Savant Saru led several outstanding savants to the entrance to welcome His Majesty.
"Machine-Goddess…"
The moment Saru saw the Savior, the lenses of his spiderlike augmetic eyes flickered.
He was shocked.
His Majesty wore several badges on his chest. Besides the Machine-Goddess Holy Sigil, the highest academic honor within the Mechanicus, there was also a special emblem belonging to the "two-dimensional" faction.
Yes, the Savior also held the title of Arch-Savant, and not just any arch-savant. He held the highest rank, Honor Arch-Savant.
Strictly speaking, it was an honorary title, not part of the standard promotion ladder.
But the arch-savants knew it was a special honor, and they respected it even more.
To the Mechanicus, the Savior was second only to the Machine-Goddess herself.
He was the supreme Honor Arch-Savant who controlled research funding.
In plain terms, Eden held the purse, so tech-priests followed. No researcher ever thought their budget was too large.
Especially not on projects of this scale, where one forge world was not enough to build what was needed.
It was also one of the ways the Savior controlled the Mechanicus.
He had to keep the Imperium's top technical class firmly in hand.
He could not allow a repeat of the old Imperium's weakness, where independent research collapsed and the Mechanicus could hold the entire state hostage.
But Saru's attention was not on the Holy Sigil.
He was staring at the "two-dimensional" badge.
The wiring along his body crackled with faint static as his emotions spiked.
"Those radicals actually dared to give such an ugly badge to the Savior. Is this not deception? An attempt to mislead His Majesty?"
Saru clearly did not accept the badge, or the faction behind it.
Especially not when the emblem featured a scantily dressed "mechanical girl."
It was enough to make him shake with indignation.
The "two-dimensional" faction was corrupting fine Mechanicus youth.
"Arch-Savant, do you have something to say?" Eden asked, noticing the arch-savant's mood. His tone was calm and even considerate.
To him, every arch-savant was a pillar of the new Imperium's research foundation, worthy of respect.
Saru hesitated, then chose not to say anything about the badge. He had no right to judge the Savior's preferences.
His vox-speech remained reverent. "By the Machine-Goddess, I am simply overwhelmed by Your Majesty's arrival.
I can hardly wait to present our research progress on the Necrontyr ancient weapon…"
"You've all worked hard. I'll go in and take a look. I hope I'm not delaying your work," Eden said, giving a small nod. He did not press the matter.
From the focus of Saru's gaze, he had already identified the problem.
It was the "two-dimensional" badge on his chest.
Eden wore Mechanicus badges without any deep ideological leaning. He did it to narrow the distance between himself and the oil-stained priesthood.
As for the "two-dimensional" emblem, the younger tech-priests liked it. Wearing it earned goodwill.
Of course, he also understood that the Mechanicus had traditionalists and radicals, and that each camp fractured into countless smaller factions.
That was inevitable. Any large organization developed that way.
As long as it stayed controllable, it was fine.
In some respects, controlled competition even improved vitality, especially when both sides were evenly matched.
Eden was happy to see factional rivalry exist.
It gave him room to play arbiter.
No matter what, the Mechanicus was half the Imperium. He had to hold the greatest authority within it.
"The Mechanicus has changed a lot over the past two centuries…" he said, studying Saru with quiet emotion.
Who would have thought that more than two hundred years ago, this same tech-priest from Stygies VIII had once been labeled a rebellious radical within the Mechanicus?
His work in xenos technology and blackstone research had been harshly criticized and treated as near-heresy.
Mars and the Inquisition watched him closely.
Stygies VIII itself had even been quietly judged, by some in the Inquisition, as a forge world flirting with forbidden tech.
Only its strategic importance, and the Mechanicus's strength at the time, had prevented direct intervention.
But after Eden's reforms, the Mechanicus underwent a complete upheaval. New thought, new trends, new factions exploded outward.
So much so that Saru, once a symbol of the radical wing, had become a traditionalist, mocked by young tech-priests as an "ancient machine brain."
Time moved on. Everyone eventually became an old man to someone.
Under Saru's guidance, Eden took a brief tour of the facility and listened to a progress report on the Æonic Orb project.
He was very satisfied, and he issued a formal directive on the spot.
The research of the Æonic Orb was one of the Mechanicus's key engineering endeavors. It was also vital machine-craft supporting the Imperium's future strategic power.
Arch-Savant Saru and the tech-priests of this laboratory had made outstanding contributions to the project amid the thunder of gears.
He hoped they would continue pushing forward and produce even more results. May the Machine-Goddess's radiance shine forever.
The Savior's praise left Saru and the others exhilarated.
More importantly, that exalted existence promised additional research funding.
The ancient weapon project was secure.
The news was so good that even the lab's machine-spirits seemed to hum in gratitude.
More funding meant more rites, more holy oils, more blessings.
In short, the oil-stained priests and their machines were grateful.
They were loyal.
"This is what the Mechanicus should feel like," Eden said, nodding with approval.
After delivering the necessary encouragement and future promises, he did not linger. Under Saru's respectful escort, he departed for the next location.
In truth, Eden had not come here for the Æonic Orb project in the first place.
Saru's lab simply happened to sit at the front of the route, so Eden had stopped by to show support.
But Saru was ecstatic.
The moment the Savior left, Saru rushed onto the Mechanicus forums to brag to other arch-savants, and he took the opportunity to sneer at the factions he hated.
He wrote an entire binharic "paper" that was basically academic street-fighting, aimed straight at the so-called innovators and their "funding scam" projects.
"By the Machine-Goddess, you flashy, empty researchers will have your budgets cut sooner or later…"
Saru declared those projects unnecessary, worthless research conducted only to siphon funding.
Only steady, disciplined work like his deserved more, better funding and the Savior's backing.
The traditionalist arch-savant triggered a new round of forum warfare. Participation exploded, and the heat climbed fast.
The argument's popularity nearly caught up to the famous "orthodox versus improved fuel-drink" debate.
For a time, it even surpassed the discussion of whether the Omnissiah and the Machine God were the same entity.
Naturally, the Mechanicus's supreme deity was the Machine-Goddess. Any other god was merely decoration.
Eden did not bother with the forum fighting. It was normal.
In a sense, it was just oil-priests doing politics with keyboards.
As long as the conflict did not escalate, it was harmless.
Besides, with Eden and the Machine-Goddess imposing order, the Mechanicus factions could not start major wars like they once had.
Even offline "real fights" were banned.
If you had a grievance, you settled it academically.
If you violated the prohibition, your funding got cut and your project permissions were revoked.
That was worse than death.
They could not even defect to the Dark Mechanicum.
Because the Savior, the Imperial Emperor, was also a Chaos Warmaster, and he held half the Dark Mechanicum's territory in his grasp, controlling the flow of resources.
As for throwing themselves at the Chaos Gods, that was a last resort with little future.
Those gods did not have a Machine-Goddess. They did not have much in the way of real material resources either. Even the Eye of Terror was almost the Chaos Warmaster's backyard now.
Strictly speaking, even the "legitimate" black-oil tech-priests had to apply for research licenses these days, conducting heretek and chaos-tech study legally and under supervision.
Otherwise, it was unlicensed illegal research, with consequences severe enough to end careers, lives, and dynasties.
That existence was effectively the god of research administration. Nobody could escape oversight.
Not long after, Eden arrived at the innovators' temporary research base.
The arch-savants there had long been waiting to present their latest technical breakthroughs, especially anything related to the Necrons.
It touched the Kalozasa Dynasty and the Imperium's coming war with the Silent King.
A range of cutting-edge projects were laid out before Eden in the most direct form possible.
"Your research really is advanced…" Eden said as he read through the material, but there was criticism in his voice. His brow tightened slightly.
That light, casual line made the surrounding arch-savants tense.
To Eden, the projects looked too strange.
How to awaken a Necron's sex drive.
What kinds of meat Flayed Ones preferred.
How the Prince of Pleasure might profane mechanical life.
They had even tried to get Flayed Ones to quit flesh and feed them bananas.
At first glance, it really did look like a budget scam.
It felt a lot like that project filed by Honor Arch-Savant Cawl, that little bastard.
The project title had been: Optimization and Safeguarding of Tech-Priest Combat Effectiveness.
What it actually studied was which biscuit tasted best when dunked in fuel-drink, and at what angle and temperature produced the optimal result.
Cawl had claimed that delicious fuel-drink paired with biscuits could soothe machine-spirits within mechanical bodies and augmetics.
His final answer had been: a 27.3-degree angle of immersion relative to the fuel-drink surface, with a tolerance of plus or minus 0.01 degrees.
As for biscuit types and temperature, he was still "researching" because there were too many biscuit varieties across the galaxy and the warp, spanning countless civilizations and species.
That bastard had even applied for military-industrial project funding.
In the end, someone reported it. The funding was clawed back.
Cawl had to continue on his own dime.
The oversight department then used the incident to audit him hard and recovered a lot of good material.
Even with that negative example, Eden did not judge these projects too quickly.
Many truly creative breakthroughs came out of research that looked ridiculous on the surface.
Some earlier projects had already proven that.
And he could afford the budgets involved. If nothing else, it encouraged innovative thinking.
"Is there actually something here?" Eden murmured as he kept reading, growing particularly interested in the Flayed One projects.
These projects had mapped out a new concept: the "interface" by which the Flayer Virus intruded, involving the boundary between realspace and the warp.
In simple terms, the Flayer Virus curse was not purely a physical infection method…
(End of Chapter)
[Get +30 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Zaelum"]
[Every 300 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]