There was plenty done during the journey to Sol. The remaining Imperium prisoners were fully interrogated, their tech reverse-engineered and moving onto the prototyping stage, and the eldritch defenses updated to provide full Warp protection to anything and everything we had.

 

We also unlocked Eldar tech, even if it’s the psychic-less versions that the Dark Eldar aka Drukhari used. If not for my console hax, their stealth and laser tech was far beyond our conventional stuff. Shit armor since they emphasized speed, but at least the materials they used proved highly enlightening for our atomic fabricators. And of course, their knowledge about the Webway was a huge boon for the Nexus’ long term goals.

 

The biggest prize though were the haemonculi prisoners we managed to snag. The ancient mad scientists had been amused at first by our interrogation methods, but after the rituals to sever their souls from their backup clones and other resurrection gimmicks, and the sanctioned use of control chips, they proved to be highly cooperative fonts of knowledge for Eva and the other AIs. 

 

Some of the older, stronger willed ones had their brains separated from their bodies and sent to the Niche Room. It only took a few days to figure out their brain chemistry, and the forced simulations quickly broke them with careful chemically assisted manipulation. The floating brains would continue to work for us in their simulated world as researchers, in exchange for us not slowly eroding their cognition.

 

Their approach to biology and xenobiology in particular proved very, very disturbing and enlightening. There were basic procedures that apparently applied to any living thing, and loopholes that allowed them to carry out impossible surgeries like grafting additional limbs and cloned brains without suffering from processing overload, or keeping a screaming face conscious and alive.

 

And I truly mean a face, as in ‘flayed off the head’, ‘sheet of skin’ face.

 

Even with their psychically dulled states, the haemonculi had the tools to flay and excise any soul. It boiled down to exploiting some of the core rules the Warp operated in, basically an Eldar version of our scientific approach to metaphysics.

 

So we now had a very expanded Eldar tech tree that was still undergoing thorough testing before entering the implementation and integration phase. Now all I needed was to hope that the trip to the Mechanicum’s Mars would give me access to the other important tech tree. It’s either that, or I somehow find a Necron tomb world sometime soon.

 

I want my phasing Sardaukars damnit.

 

Conventional tech aside, the knowledge we gained from the Imperium and Dark Eldar navigation databases about the greater galaxy helped pin the Nexus’ place within the greater galaxy. Interestingly, we were in the northwestern corner of Ultima Segmentum, about halfway between Terra and Baal. Guess who our closest notable neighbors were?

 

Prospero and Fenris.

 

Were were almost right smack dab in the middle between the magic haters and the magic addicts. I don’t know how that affects things in the long run, but boy did seeing our system almost smack in the middle between those legion homeworlds bring out a chuckle from myself.

 

“So, Fenris? That belongs to the gray armored legion we saw, the Vlka Fenryka. The one with wolf head motifs and lots of ineffective runes etched on their armor.” I gave briefings about the legions we met, adding a bit more on top of the harvest of data we got from interrogations and captured databanks. “Almost stupidly reckless shock assault types. Also, highly disapproving of metaphysics, at least with the Warp that they’re aware of. Doesn’t stop them from using ‘psykers’ in their ranks though.”

 

“How reckless are we talking about?” Sarah Lyons asked from her front row seat in the meeting hall.

 

I shrugged as I answered. “Like starving wolves desperately running down dangerous prey.”

 

“Huh. That sounds potentially problematic,” Cait noted with a deep frown. “Think they’d be nice enough to run straight at us?”

 

“Highly doubt it. They’re supposed to be savage, not stupid. If things go sour with them, I’d expect more heavy harassment than frontal confrontations. Unless they dedicate their full attention to us, along with reinforcements.”

 

“So it’s just another legion to worry about in the end?”

 

I nodded. “With different personality and tactics, but yeah. Our same SOP applies.”

 

Which was the Nexus’ response to any Space Marine legion that turns hostile against us. Well, maybe except for the XIXth and the XXth. Raven Guard and the Alpha Legion. For those we had to increase scanner and eyebot sweeps to flush out any infiltration, and then be thankful that all the important infrastructure is fully automated so we don’t have to worry about fake engineers and such.

 

“So…what about the machine cultists?” Piper asked.

 

“Other than the fact that their faith might have further distorted the reality of how machines work with metaphysical confirmation enforcement? I’m honestly not too clear on them yet… We’ll have to wait until we reach their Mars to figure out the details. There is little else to learn about their reliance on suboptimal cybernetics and computing. We’ve faced enough of those already.”

 

The assembled commanders, researchers and advisors bobbed their heads up and down in understanding. The Nexus has seen differing variations of the whole tech cult trope as we took over the world, so other than the scaling up to an interstellar level, the Mechanicum offered nothing really new for us to worry about. The databanks and bioservers we captured provided nothing as esoteric as the Chinese cyborg rust cult, not even a hint of a memetic infohazard.

 

Disappointing, but unsurprising. Plus, I’m not going to complain if potential enemies are underpowered. It’s not like anyone’s getting XP points here.

 

“Now, moving onto the information compiled about the Eldar species…”

 

With the meeting finished about a few hours later, and a quick check back to Mekhane to make sure that I still had a few days left before Sol, I made my way over to the Nexus’ main point of faith in Sarajevo.

 

Because of course, with the themes I was running with, it’d be a damned shame to not have Temple Prime. I had to artificially redirect the global leylines to optimize the channeling of metaphysical faith, but what’s a little bit of extra effort to commit to the theme, right? Having a legion of console-tweaked robots made the dangerous work a minor chore that lasted only a few months.

 

For all the fanfare and publicity, the megastructure was inaccessible to the public. Temple Prime was lethal up to six miles out due to the intense metaphysical energies focused into it. Raw faith - as in the metaphysical power that was solely dedicated to someone or something in particular - was highly corrosive to the lifestuff of those it was not intended for. Even Eva and the other AI had to be cut off from Temple Prime’s network since they had nascent souls that could be affected. I had to artificially create a pantheon as a loophole just to ensure that the girls, 1st Company and a few select people could enter the region without their spiritual selves combusting.

 

I teleported into the cavernous, gloss-black halls of Temple Prime. The filtering array of repurposed Tiberium formed a jumbled, branching column in the center of the massive structure like some modern art installation. The crystals constantly shifted from the natural colors in the visible spectrum to the non-colors of the Demon Sultan’s realm as they constantly filtered the faith I received into something less corruptive and destructive.

 

It sucked that the source of my divinity instantly affected the ‘flavor’ of my faith. The whole Cult of the Waking debacle had forced me to seize godhood as a bypass to ensure that their weaponized beliefs were redirected to me instead of piercing the veils to wake Azathoth up. Being counted as Azathoth and receiving a huge surge of power had its perks, which included being able to squish other threats from the similar metanatural realms, but as a god, I felt rather constrained.

 

Even with the modifications learned from the Eldar prisoners, I ended up turning off the divine link, as the limited capabilities became a nagging, unfiltered presence in the back of my head. It was like hooking up a shitty telephone to the landline. Barely worth using at all.

 

Well, until now anyway.

 

I summoned a black-painted Mr Handy bot over for an update. “Status on the new soulbinding rites?”

 

“Progress is undergoing its final triple-checking, sir,” the robot cheerily answered with its British accent as it followed beside me. It took a bit of tweaking to get the bot to speak like Jeeves. “Simulations are still showing all rituals, runes and condensed energies keeping to optimal compatibility to gain the desired result.”

 

“No new setbacks?”

 

“It seems so, sir. There were no new issues raised in the last four rounds of testing, and all existing issues have been resolved without causing additional effects. The rite is ready for use as soon as triple-checking is complete.”

 

I couldn’t keep the grin off my face as I walked towards the lift to the ritual chamber. “And how long is that?

 

“Approximately seventeen minutes as of…now, sir.”

 

“Nice. We got samples prepared at Tleilax?”

 

“Indeed, sir. Everything is on standby, including the volunteers in Caladan and Vault Gesserit. Madames Piper, Nat, Cait and Curie will be informed to keep alert once you begin the ritual.”

 

We reached the underground ritual chamber, where blood, artifacts and preserved Eldar corpses were arranged. Even with their stunted states, the space elves were still tied enough to the Warp that they could serve as ingredients for accessing the Immaterium. More repurposed Mr Handy robots zipped around like worker drones, scanning and inspecting every glyph and ingredient pile. I patiently waited for them to finish, keeping the nerves away by locking down my mental stats as usual.

 

The Mr Priests quietly floated out when they were done, leaving me and the Jeeves-sounding temple assistant. “Beginning ascension,” I stated as I began walking towards the middle of the exactly 126120.815208 mm wide ritual circle.

 

“Understood, sir. Relaying commands.” The robot hovered out the chamber, leaving me alone. I reached for a handful of Eldar bones (had to be index finger tips or particular cuts of the forehead) and used them to form the last circle to close the circuit and begin the multi-realm integration.

 

Looking through the time dilated lens of console view, I saw stats rewritten or blink in and out of existence. The numbers of interlaced realities fluctuated wildly as their boundaries broke down and spilled into each other. My surroundings diffused into a jumble of colors, sounds, taste and other sensations. Multiple energy spikes around me shot up past rock-melting levels, to the point where some of it was bypassing my hacked immunities.

 

If not for me shutting it off earlier, I suspect that being caught in this whirlwind of unstable power would be very, very painful.

 

Picking up a nearby Tiberium shard, I disabled my immunity for just long enough to stab myself in the throat, at just the right place, with the right width and depth. Then I forced myself to gurgle inhuman noises through the bubbling wound, ones that resonated with not just our usual planes of reality, but the newly studied Immaterium as well. Anchored through the common frequency, I forged a bridge between the metanatural states with the blood of Eldar, Outer Gods and other eldritch abominations.

 

The alloyed blood was tempered with the console-hacked colors of Azathoth, enforcing a new reality of coexistence onto them for greater stability. With the fluctuations dying, I assigned a terminus to the bridge between realms:

 

Me.

 

It was the closest I’ve ever gotten to oblivion. The console flickered as I endured the ensuing overwriting of my existential makeup. The old ascension rite was a pinprick compared to this waterfall of needles. Even as my concept of consciousness flexed and foamed, I fought to keep pasting and repasting my more important stats as I was twisted, morphed and remolded, to ensure that I came out of this at least somewhat human (with a serviceable dick).

 

The reality storm dissipated all of a sudden, and I hunched over to catch my breath and senses. My body felt numbed, though it’s probably from the stat locks I’ve enforced. It took a moment before I realized I was floating in the air, though with a quick spawn of a mirror I confirmed I looked more or less like my old self (though it’s a bit mutable - I could split my iris or grow new fingers at will for example).

 

Before I distracted myself with the cosmetic changes, I dove back into the console to find no changes to the UI thankfully, though it’d take a long time to get used to my new unformatted stats for quick referencing. I did find my divinity toggle without too much effort, and switched it back on again.

 

This time, there’s no disorientation at all as I heard millions of voices calling my name. Each speaker distinctly registered in the back of my mind, each prayer fully comprehended and memorized. I focused on some prisoners in a cell, begging for their lives in a prepared prayer speech. It took little effort to see the test subjects’ surroundings, that they were in a testing lab of Blacksite Tleilax. I could see into them a lot clearer now. No console view, but discerning their soul was good enough for now.

 

“If you can hear me, be quiet,” I instructed them. They all shut up immediately, terror staining their essences. I steadied myself and prepared for extensive testing. There were fifty subjects to go through. By the time I was satisfied with the current extent of my abilities, twelve were still alive and sane. I’ll have to remember to cut down their sentences later.

 

With the reach of my new abilities established, I reached out through my divine bond to send a tingle up my girls’ spines. I saw their surprise and arousals on their face as well as blooming in their cores. Thanks to the practice I had earlier, it took little effort to project a shell of myself before each of them. I felt their embraces and kisses, and picked up their scents of relief and arousal.

 

“Meet me in our suite?” I half-asked, half-ordered before reclaiming the projections.

 

With all the basics done, I remained floating in the air as I turned my sights beyond the veils. With some effort, the thick barrier to the Immaterium, the Realm of Chaos was parted. With literally new eyes I saw more than just a maelstrom of pretty non-colors. I tasted a heady mix of emotions, felt frayed strings of prayers slip through my fingers, heard the cacophonous choir of countless unclaimed souls…

 

And then I pulled my presence back a little, to zoom out. And the chaos of the Warp became less of a jumble, as distinct zones were discernible. Within the four largest ones, I saw the idea of faces, with constellations for eyes. I felt the weight of their stares, tasted the mix of childlike curiosity and utter confusion.

 

Each of the Four tore out parts of themselves and hurled them at me, and though I braced for impact, the essences flew through me. I reached out to grab some of the essence flying by, and it took far too much effort to so much as bump the chunks aside.

 

One of the better results then.

 

I looked back at the four entities in the Warp and basked in their confusion before I backed away and closed the heavy curtain between reality.

 

Note to self, harvest more psykers for further testing. Preferably Chaos corrupted ones. For now though, it’s time to see whether it’s worth growing another dick or if I should just go shadow cloning myself. Or maybe both…