Chapter 95: Tapping the Digital Prayer Bead, Even the Machine Spirit Compliments Me: What Are You Praying For?

On the first day of class, Hades was tasked with memorizing terminology.

In the library, Hades, with his rough and rugged appearance, sat despondently, surrounded by books that felt like a prison. Titles such as "101 Basic Circuits Every Servo-Skull Should Know" and "3,000 Essential Screws Every Tech-Priest Must Memorize" loomed over him. Of course, many titles were written in binary, octal, or ASCII, like "How to Lubricate Your Servitor."

Not far from Hades, the snoring of Logan "Wolf" Manning teased at Hades's already fraying sanity.

Hades reminded himself that while Manning was a privileged scion, he was the only hope of a newly established chapter with nothing but standard-issue gear.

Swallowing the overwhelming influx of knowledge, Hades begrudgingly returned to his studies. He now understood the saying about "thirty years of learning." Even an enhanced Astartes needed three decades to master the basics of legion tech maintenance.

It felt like being sent to Mars and then cramming for an interstellar exam for thirty years.

Hades developed a newfound respect for the Techmarines and Forge Masters of the Deathwatch.

Thankfully, with his augmented brain, Hades could snap a picture of a page and let his left hemisphere process the information, recalling it when needed.

"Why doesn't the Mechanicus have something like a USB drive?" Hades pondered.

Unbeknownst to him, the Mechanicus did possess such technology, but he lacked the clearance to use it.

Feeling like he was about to physically regurgitate all the knowledge, Hades finally looked up, rubbing his neck and staring blankly at the wall.

Ever since his recent experiences on Mars, Hades had been contemplating the Cult Mechanicus. According to his past life's memories, the Emperor had facilitated the birth of the Mechanicus to preserve technology through the Age of Strife, preparing for the Great Crusade.

Hades didn't judge the Emperor's intentions. He understood that during those dark times, the Emperor needed individuals willing to sacrifice their lives for knowledge. And faith was often the best catalyst for such actions.

The cheapest form of faith often wore the cloak of religion and ignorance.

Yet, seeing the fervor of the Tech-Priests, their genuine belief that the Emperor was the Omnissiah, Hades was somewhat taken aback.

But dwelling on established facts was pointless. What perplexed Hades was the tangible power of faith in this universe. When one prayed to a deity, that deity would respond from the Warp.

So, where did the prayers of the Mechanicus go? Hades hadn't seen them summon the Machine God from the Warp.

Hades had two theories. The first was that the Mechanicus's faith was directed towards the true "Machine God," the Void Dragon imprisoned by the Emperor beneath Mars. The Void Dragon, a shard of a C'tan or Star God, was a purely physical entity, and thus the Mechanicus's faith had no effect on it.

The second theory was that the Emperor, posing as the Void Dragon's representative, had usurped the Void Dragon's authority, channeling the Mechanicus's faith towards himself.

Regardless, the Emperor was the ultimate beneficiary in the power play between the Mechanicus and the Void Dragon.

The Tech-Priests' attitudes towards their doctrine varied. Some were fanatics, while others merely adopted the label for convenience. For instance, Tech-Priest Gell Jordan, whom Hades had interacted with, was a fervent believer, always seizing opportunities to preach to Hades.

Hades would nod and say, "Yes, yes, praise the Omnissiah."

The chime of a clock interrupted his thoughts. Looking at the pile of books, Hades slumped in despair, banging his head on the table.

He once dreamt of finishing his studies early to rejoin his squad. But now, what was all this?

Unbeknownst to him, his learning speed was already much faster than others. But without a point of reference, he had no way of realizing this.

Manning, awakened by the noise, looked at the clock. "Time to eat!" he exclaimed.

Hades followed him, grateful for the break. The Martian meal consisted of specially flavored algae and a bland porridge with a faint taste of machine oil. Compared to the sweet meals on the Deathwatch, Martian food was salty. But Hades wasn't picky.

As he devoured his twenty-third plate of algae, Manning stared in disbelief. "Don't they feed you on the Deathwatch?"

Hades simply replied, "The Deathwatch provides nutritious porridge and metal blocks. It's filling."

Manning was shocked. He had heard of the lavish feasts of the Primarchs and the Blood Angels' blood rituals. Even the more austere legions had bread or meat in their diets. But the Deathwatch's diet was news to him.

In the afternoon, practical lessons began. Hades chose to attend the Mechanicus workshop instead of the library. He pondered the nature of the Machine Spirit as he stared at a Deimos-pattern Rhino.

According to Hades, there were three types of Machine Spirits. The first was metaphysical, with a presence in the Warp. The second was scientific, systems with a degree of autonomy. The third was abominable intelligence, AI that some Tech-Priests secretly developed in defiance of the Emperor's decree.

Hades's contemplation was interrupted by the chime of a clock, signaling the end of the day.