Chương 68: Chapter 66: The Puzzle and the Punchline.

POV: Nicole I feel something tug on my sleeve and as I look over I see it's Nyanko..

"Princeps, I found something interesting in the new lots. The listing says it's an ancient device!" I let her lead me over to where this mystery device is, I can't help but blink and giggle.

"Nyanko, that's a waffle iron."

"Waffle iron? What's a waffle? It's not made of iron, though..." The little Felinid frowns down at it, clearly puzzled but still excited.

"It is old, though and made out of an adamantine alloy, nya!"

"A waffle is a... thin pastry that..." I pause, then smile.

"You know what? We shall bid on the waffle iron. We'll make some and find out." I say as I double the current bid. The silly thing must be tens of thousands of years old and is in surprisingly good condition, missing the outer layer of paint but otherwise looks totally functional-if in need of a good sterilization. Nyanko beams proudly at the find and happily resumes browsing the rows of items. Most of my larger bids go uncontested.

The Solar Auxilia kits attract some interest, but once I raise the bid offer significantly, no one challenges it. My initial bid was well under value, and the current bid still falls within what I believe is a fair price for the lot. Two bids stand out as surprises. The first is the Lord Inquisitor's unexpected interest in the Star Galleon hull. While it won't be spaceworthy for years, she's ordering it prepared for one of her other apprentices.

The extensive restoration and internal modifications she has in mind will consume most of her remaining shares. The second upset comes from the bid for the Mastodon. The bidding gets unexpectedly fierce, but Lord Drakios wins out in the end, though from his slightly sour expression he knows he overpaid. The other large lots fall into place. The Star Dragons will receive Astartes gear from Drakios as a gift-everything but the bikes which the Inquisitor is assigning to the Deathwatch.

Master Doll personally outright purchases the Corposant Staff using his own funds and not the overall Mechanicus allocation. He then gifts it to Master Xor. I sip from a flute of non-alcoholic, non-synthetic fruit juice and watch the exchange of items and credits unfold. The two Arachni-rigs I secured will give me something to tinker with later that aren't quite as stressful as AME. The rest of the spaceship hulls are staying local, including the captured chaos hulls that will need thorough sterilization.

Ur-Haven will repair them and keep them for its defense fleet, or more likely trade them away to the Imperial Navy, or exchange them with other factions for massive amounts of resources or favors, the planet's next tithe is going to be paid for twice over. Magos Zeta-9 looks pleased even if Master Doll and Lord Drakios are snagging the Archeotech Starflare Lance turret and the Xenos Warpgate sensor enhancement, respectively. I make my way to the main grouping where the key figures have gathered. Just in time too.

"Governor Aarark, now that the bids have concluded, we have our timetable. My fleet will prepare to depart in five months. In that time, we will be requiring one hundred thousand sailors and ten to twenty thousand Mechanicus personnel. The individuals will need to meet certain mental fortitude standards, which we can discuss later," Lord Drakios gives me a glance and a small nod of acknowledgement as I arrive. The Governor nods slowly as he processes that figure.

Having a quick private chat with Zeta-9 Kane over the Noosphere with his implant.

"I believe we can facilitate that, Lord Drakios. Though they will likely only meet the minimum standards of voidsmen training."

"That will do, we can provide further training once we discover just what classes of vessel they will be sailing." Drakios says with a wry smile.

"I require twenty thousand to replace the crew lost in transit and combat. We will be departing roughly around the same time as the Drakios fleet to make use of the Eldar gate network. A single favor I managed to coax from Anvial." Inquisitor Striker adds from her seat.

"Of course, Lady Inquisitor. It shall be done! We shall endeavor to make your remaining time with us as pleasant as possible. Is there any other matter with which I might assist you?" Governor Aarark asks with a polite smile. I chime in, "I am recruiting individuals for my Legio and I plan on hosting trials in a few months. Individuals with sufficient latent talent markers or implants are welcome to participate. However, I will be holding all participants to Tempestus standards.

The trials are not for the weak of mind or faint of heart," I warn the governor with a small smile.

"Also, I believe I would like the remainder of my shares in portable material assets. Preferably, in the form of ingots, I will provide a list of the materials in question, based on your available stocks."

"Ah, yes, that will not be an issue, Lady Cavalerio. We will spread the word about the trials and provide you with your materials. I believe Lord Drakios has some leftover shares as well." The Governor mutters as he checks his dataslate.

"We can discuss how willing you are to part with your wine cellar later, Cornelius," Drakios says with a chuckle, swirling his glass before taking an appreciative sip.

"Well then, with that settled. A toast! To the Emperor and the Imperium!" Governor Aarark announces to the room, raising his glass.

"To the Omnissiah and the Imperium," I say, lifting my glass as everyone else joins in. —-------------------------------------------------- The integration of the Psyber-lure into AME went surprisingly smoothly, almost suspiciously so. Once she'd been fully sanctified and fitted with proper hexagrammatic wards, we were clear to initiate the next phase of bonding. There was a ritual, of course. Small, precise, mostly symbolic. But I wasn't prepared for the sensation when the bond finally clicked into place.

It felt like a thread, a faint psychic tether connected AME to me. Subtle for now, but the files suggest it will strengthen over time. Reaching out with my psychic senses instead of relying on the Noosphere felt unnatural at first, like trying to taste color. AME, naturally, adored it. She called it our "super special bond," with the kind of enthusiasm only she can muster when we're in private. The awareness she gives me is... fascinating.

Even without implants, her natural senses span far beyond the human spectrum-ultraviolet, infrared, magnetic flux, atmospheric particulates. She doesn't just see, she parses, categorizes, and maps every variable in a ten-meter radius like it's instinct. But that's only the beginning. Thanks to my implants I can parse more of the information, take her further, gravitometric readings, and weak-field anomalies.

When she focuses she can read quantum jitter like I read body language, and taste radiation on the subatomic scale. Her perception is layered, recursive, and sometimes so dense with overlapping context that tapping into her feed feels like falling into a fractal abyss. And yet... there's still something she doesn't see. Some signals are buried too deep, or operating on principles we don't have the words for or the right implants to parse.

I feel it at the edges when our minds touch, an echo of awareness that's not hers, not mine, and not quite dormant. The bond strains slightly under that pressure. Not dangerously-just enough to remind me what she is. A relic of the Dark Age. A machine built by hands we no longer understand. With the link stabilized, my focus shifts, inevitably, to the Puzzle. The frustrating little construct. Despite days of constant proximity and experimentation, I've made no progress.

Nothing intuitive reveals itself, no hidden subroutines, no psychic whispers. So, I resolve to stop treating it like some mystical artifact and start treating it like what it probably is, a machine, with its own unique rules. I decide to approach it like a Logis. In the forge, I set the puzzle on a stand. The only subliminal insight I've gained so far is a gut certainty about the orientation the topmost pyramid feels like it should face up. So, I will start there.

I arrange a precise Auspex array around the puzzle and tap into the ship's cogitator network.

"We're going to map out the upper pyramid," I murmur, mostly to myself and AME.

"Record all symbols on the four faces for every manipulation I make. Let's do this." AME chirps in acknowledgement, and I begin. First, I establish a baseline — recording every symbol on every face in its untouched configuration. Then I rotate the topmost layer once, reset, and repeat. Slowly, methodically, I begin compiling a database of symbols and their shifting positions, careful not to touch any directly. No disruptions yet. Just data. But as I move down through the manipulable layers, the data balloons.

The symbols don't just shift, they change, depending on both the manipulation and the original configuration. It's exponential. AME helps manage the growing files, and soon I reach out to Sci for extra processing support. Days pass without me quite realizing it. Tech-priests and Magi occasionally pass through the forge, and silently observe as I loom over the puzzle while muttering to myself, completely lost in the patterns. No one interrupts. If it's courtesy, fear, or something else, I can't say.

I take a break to hydrate and sigh as I lean back.

"AME, compile a list of all symbols that appear across multiple facings. Sci, isolate any recurring patterns or loops based on the manipulations. I'll work on a master lexicon of the symbol set." Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Sci finishes first. Disappointingly and unsurprisingly, she finds very little of note. AME's data, however, is different. One symbol shows up far more often than any other. It repeats after specific manipulations.

Its recurrence is statistically impossible to be coincidental. And it's one I recognize. The Ankh of the Triarch. I wrack my brain for what I remember about the Ankh. The Ankh of the Triarch, the ancient royal symbol of the unified Necrontyr Empire used by every current Necron dynasty. It even predates the War in Heaven. I freeze.

"Now what are you doing here?" I whisper, spotting it gleaming faintly on one of the puzzle's faces. I tap the symbol. It fades. I manipulate the puzzle again and it appears elsewhere. Another face. Another layer. I tap it again. This time, the puzzle emits a soft pulse of blue light. Subtle, but unmistakable. My eyes widen. Carefully, I twist the structure again, and continue searching. The Ankh reappears, in yet another location. Another tap, another pulse. My heartbeat quickens with it.

Using the data we've gathered, I generate a map of every known Ankh appearance. It only ever manifests on the upper pyramid, but theoretically, it can appear in any of the symbol slots. Every time I tap one in sequence, the signal intensifies, visible pulses growing brighter and longer. Each success encourages me to continue. Crucially, once tapped, an Ankh doesn't reappear, even if I repeat the exact manipulation. A pattern emerges. A path.

I learn the hard way that tapping the wrong symbol resets the entire sequence. With a slightly manic grin, I start over. I lose track of time, again. I find the Ankhs, again and again, navigating increasingly elaborate twists, taking immense care not to touch anything else. The first face gets completed and goes completely dark as I complete the sequence. The second face follows not too long after, then the third face. The Ankh becomes harder to summon each time. A full day passes before I'm down to the last face.

AME beeps a proximity warning and growls. I glance up and flinch. Stillness in Motion is looming over me, much too close. Silently watching, almost judging?

"Press it," he whispers. I hesitate. Others have gathered, tech-priests, acolytes, a few dozen curious bystanders. They're all keeping a respectful distance… all but him. A few are glaring at him, but he doesn't notice or care. With a sigh, I press the final glowing Ankh. The pyramid turns black. Not merely dark, but true black, like the void between stars. It pulses once. Then again. And again, each beat coming faster and faster. Blue energy races along a metallic seam I hadn't even noticed before.

The light flows to the apex of the puzzle in a circling, ever accelerating fashion - then, a click followed by a hiss. The seams glow briefly, then split. The pyramid unfolds like a flower, opening in four perfect segments. Inside is... Nothing. No mass. No energy. No psychic presence. My Auspex reads zero on all counts. But my eyes say otherwise. There's something there. Faint. Like a chunk of aerogel. Transparent and ghost-like. It rests in the center, barely displacing the air around it. My sensors report...

vacuum? Like a solid fragment of nothing. A chunk of void. Stillness in Motion says nothing. He just watches. I reach out and the moment I touch it, it pops, vanishing like a soap bubble. A jolt runs through my arm and through my power armour scales focused on the back of my hand. I gasp sharply and instinctively pull my hand back. And then I feel it. A tickle at the edge of my consciousness. A wordless... recognition. Not a message, the briefest flicker of curious acknowledgment by a powerful suffocating presence.

I glance down and retract the scales of my armour. On the back of my right hand is a silvery Ankh surrounded by a swirling, fractal halo has appeared. My skin is unbroken, only discolored, but according to my scans is somehow completely unchanged on a cellular level. Stillness in Motion finally speaks.

"All that time... to deliver a mark?" He tilts his head back and begins to chuckle. The sound grows rising from amusement to glee, until it breaks into full, howling laughter. The pyramid now truly empty folds itself shut, smooth and silent. I stare at my hand.

"A mark? For what?" I mutter.

"Whose mark?" Stillness in Motion is still laughing. Doubled over as he cackles and howls to the heavens. But the answer is already clawing its way to the front of my mind. I've been marked. By Mag'ladroth, the Dragon of Mars. —--------------------------------------------------- The initial surge of panic is so overwhelming that my implants have to kick in. Emergency emotional suppressants dumping into my bloodstream before I lose motor control.

AME senses the abrupt spike in my mental state and flutters anxiously toward my hand. Her sensors flick over the surface, trying to analyze what mine already cannot. She comes up short which is only more cause for concern. I whip around one of my dendrite blades. My hand barely trembles as I slice a thin sliver of skin where the mark rests. The autosanguine nanites in my body immediately flood the site, repairing the incision almost immediately after I make the cut. But the result is unmistakable.

The removed tissue is clean, has no mark on it, no off-coloration, nothing. The mark is just there, precisely, perfectly, on the regenerated flesh. Something in my posture must shift, the vibes in the room shift from curious to concerned, and I feel the attention of the room refocus.

"Princeps!? Are you alright?" Magos Gertrude's voice cuts through the murmurs as she pushes her way through the crowd.

"I… don't know?" I admit, glancing sideways at Stillness in Motion, who's just now recovering from his dramatic collapse.

"Ooh…" he wheezes, chest still hitching with aftershocks of laughter.

"By the grace of the Laughing God, that was so worth the wait." He rights himself with an exaggerated sigh and brushes imaginary dust from his sleeves.

"Xenos! Explain this!" Gertrude barks, voice sharp and mechanical with rising fury. Stillness in Motion titters impishly.

"Your precious little one has been marked. Marked by a Yngir!" He cackles like it's a punchline.

"What a cursed honor. Tell me, child… is that the mark of Kaelis Ra?" I grit my teeth and shake my head.

"No. It's… the Dragon." His masked head tilts, curiosity slicing through amusement.

"The Void Monarch?" he echoes, almost reverently.

"How delicious. What games must be afoot? A task? A favor? What could a shard of a broken Star God want from a Mon'keigh?" He wonders aloud. Messages start flooding in. Master Doll. Master Xor. A few others I trust. News spreads fast aboard a ship like this. I respond curtly to all but one. Master Doll gets something closer to the truth.

"A powerful Necron entity has marked me. Purpose unknown. The mark is not removable. Amputation is unlikely to help. No additional information available at this time. Forbidden data priority Omega." I encrypt the message as highly as I can. Gertrude is still staring at Stillness in Motion with a puzzled frown.

"A Star what?"

"Gertrude." I say quietly, eyes flicking toward the gathering observers.

"Lex Mechanicus Prohibitoria. Priority Omega. Censorship protocols. Forbidden knowledge." To her credit, she doesn't hesitate, she pulls a needle pistol from her robes and readies two of her medical mechadendrites, they swivel to mirror the motion of the gun. Hissing softly, the dart-launchers begin firing. Tranquilizer rounds strike the nearest observers in rapid succession. A burst of binary ripples out. The tech-adepts, those with proper cybernetics, all freeze in place as their implants seize them.

In under a minute, the room is quiet. Only Stillness in Motion, Gertrude and I remain conscious.

"I'm afraid," Gertrude says softly, removing an autoinjector from her belt, "my clearance isn't high enough for this." Without drama and without complaint, she sits down and calmly injects herself. Her eyes flutter closed as the memory-sealing cocktail takes effect. Stillness in Motion claps politely.

"Oh, what a marvelous performance." From his sleeve, he produces one of the trinkets he'd procured from Drakio's vault and starts waving it around. It turns out to be an instrument, something elegant and curved and old with a deep, bassy tone. As he plays a slow, haunting melody, he glances at me with sparkling eyes.

"You know the best part of this fantastic little punchline?" I narrow my eyes.

"What?" His mask mocks me and I can hear the grin in his voice.

"None of this is my problem!" He throws up his hands.

"I don't care! Good luck, dear. Making a deal with the Dragon! Ha!" He laughs. The final note hangs in the air. With a flourish and bow, he vanishes. Not just from view, but from sensors. AME chirps in frustration as her scanners confirm nothing. He's gone. Master Doll and Master Xor are en route with a proper Venatorii and Divisio Mandati censorship team. They'll handle cleanup, attend to Gertrude, and begin quieting the ship's murmurs. My attention drifts back to the puzzle on the workbench. Still in my hand.

Still impossibly complex. I turn it over, eyes narrowing.

"Wait…" I mutter aloud.

"If that was inside the upper pyramid… what's in the bottom half?" The bottom portion of the pyramid has an entirely different scheme of symbols and no Ankh.