Warhammer: Don't Call Me the God of All Machines

Chapter 183 John the Immortal

Elena followed the man in front of her to a rest area where many Kos people gathered. On this huge orbital platform, there were immigrants from various planets. Naturally, these people also formed groups based on their hometowns.

On a strange planet thousands of years away from home, even a familiar accent is heartwarming enough.

"I'm quite familiar with the guards here, and I can get some inside information through them. If you need help, don't be embarrassed, just tell me."

"People of Kaus are supposed to help each other out there, aren't they?"

The man took Elena to an area where women and children gathered, found a place for Elena, and returned the heavy objects on her body to her.

His attentive behavior impressed Elena, and her trust in him increased a lot.

"Don't hate the guards. There's a reason why they don't let us roam around." The man sat down, keeping his eyes level with Alina's. "It's a dark year now. We are all from Kos, so we naturally know what this means."

Elena nodded in understanding. Military control was also implemented in the underground city of Cowes to guard against enemies hiding in the dark like rats.

"The formalities will be completed. Only after we have been examined can we change from temporary citizens to formal citizens." The man smiled. "At least that's what the guard on the previous shift told me. He had no reason to lie to us."

Elena bit her lip slightly. She needed a legal identity, otherwise she would not be able to find someone whose name she only knew in the capital of the Five Hundred Worlds.

She recalled Luo Xi's appearance in her mind.

"Luo Xi, his name is Luo Xi. Where is the more information? I need more. Use your brain to recall more. Why is there only this?"

The man thought to himself, and at the same time, he actively guided Elena to recall the scene of childbirth.

As the conversation between the two gradually unfolded, the man who had assumed the identity of his old friend Olperson also read more useful information from Elina's mind.

"That's all. You rest here for a while. I'll go to the food distribution area to get you some food. The Ultramarines have taken our basic living needs into consideration and they have provided it for free."

After temporarily bidding farewell to Elina, Olperson, or John, headed towards the relief center set up by the government.

He walked up the mesh stairs to the platform. Ultraviolet disinfection lamps were arranged above the platform, and nozzles were spraying trace amounts of disinfectant gas to prevent diseases from different planets from spreading here.

"The mission this time is too difficult. Why did the prophecy turn out like this?" John was queuing in the crowd. He tried hard to control his psychic mind reading. The refugees around him who had fled here were filled with strong emotions of sadness, disturbing his mind.

"It shouldn't be like this. The prophet's prophecy didn't include these things: that damn battle planet, those Ultramarines who didn't die, everything has changed."

Most of the information he told the woman was lies. Orpesson was not his name, but the identity of an old friend of his. He was not a refugee from Cowes, but his true identity - an agent of a mysterious organization called the Esoteric Cult.

As an immortal, John was chosen by the cult and became a member during the world war that broke out among humans in the second millennium.

This time John came to Macragge with a secret mission, but before starting his mission, he had to face a difficult problem.

He was trapped in this immigration center, and the Ultramarines' overly strict inspection measures made it impossible for him to move forward.

It's just that the woman named Elina Vera who he selected from the crowd might be an opportunity. He read everyone's brain and heart and found that opportunity.

This woman from Cowes actually knew that unpredictable person, and this was a relationship that could be exploited.

"My main mission is to deal with the Primarch who fell to Macragge, but if I get a chance to investigate that unpredictable man, it would be an unexpected bonus," John thought to himself.

The elders of the secret sect are very curious about him. His appearance makes the already chaotic future even more unpredictable. For the sake of the great plan, perhaps eliminating him or winning him over is the right choice.

John received a large and nutritious meal from the relief center. He tasted it and although it was not as good as the delicacies he remembered, it was a rare feast for these refugees.

According to the information he obtained from the guards, it seems that these Macragge people have mastered the method of large-scale industrial production of food. These foods directly synthesized by machines contain most of the nutrients needed by the human body, and they are all free.

Free food, this kind of thing is rare even in the 31st millennium. John vaguely remembered that this kind of thing also happened to human beings in the time known as the Golden Age.

The abundance of material goods has provided basic guarantees for people’s living standards, although there are still huge gaps.

However, the long night of chaos and endless war that followed destroyed all this beauty.

Humanity is not only adept at destroying other races, it's also exceptionally adept at destroying itself. On his way back, John, feeling mixed emotions, encountered a Mechanicus soldier named Sarax. These Mechanicus soldiers, composed of a combination of human wetware and mechanical metal, possessed a raw, ferocious air. They patrolled the area repetitively, their piston-powered feet moving in circles.

John loathed these profane creations that blended human and mechanical entities.

"Technology shouldn't be like this." John could hear the pain in the Mechanicus soldier's heart. He could feel that under the metal armor there was a human head with only the spine left, wailing in severe pain.

"No passage here, please go back." The Sarax soldier walked towards John, holding an extremely dangerous arc gun in his hand, and the noise of the pistons on his body could be heard.

"I want to talk to my supervisor. We've talked before," John said.

"I would like to inquire about the progress of the identity verification."

The half-human, half-mechanical being checked the log records doubtfully and confirmed that what the person in front of him said was true.

John's conversation with the Sarax soldiers alerted a true administrator, a sergeant of the Ultramarines, who walked towards John's position.

The Eternal Agent acted completely harmless as he saluted the approaching Ultramarines while once again mobilizing his telepathic powers.

In just a few moments, John had a cursory glance at the mind of the Ultramarines.

"Sir, I just wanted to inquire about the waiting time. We have been stranded here for more than a week," he said.

"What's your name?" The Extreme Warrior took off his helmet, and John could see the metallic base color under the cobalt blue paint. It was adamantium, an extremely powerful metal.

"Olpersong, from Calth." John said. The skills taught to him by the esoteric professors allowed him to perfectly keep his heartbeat, facial expressions, and micro-movements normal. Even an Astartes could not tell the falsehood from them.

He knew very well how powerful these Ultramarines were. Guilliman's descendants had thinking abilities comparable to those of humanoid thinkers. If there were even the slightest flaw in their fabrications, it would not escape their eyes.

But his information was not fabricated. His old friend had a complete life trajectory. He did have a farm in Cowes, and before the disaster, Orpesson was preparing to start a farming life in Cowes.

The Ultramarines named Zairo kept repeating the name while recalling the personnel list of the Calth immigration ship that had just been issued, which contained information on more than 30,000 people.

There was indeed a man called Olpersson.

"Everyone regrets what happened on Calth, but it's all in the past." The Ultramarines nodded sympathetically. Guilliman's descendants cared more about mortals than other Space Marines.

"Yes, we have to look forward." John smiled, "But God, there are so many women and children down there who need help. They can't stay here forever, so I want to ask how long it will take for our identity review to be completed."

The Ultramarines had no fault to fault with John's words, but he soon noticed the title mentioned by the mortal.

“Who is God?” asked the Ultramarines.

"I'm sorry sir, it was just a slip of the tongue. It is an ancient faith called Catholicism," John explained.

As an immortal, he has too many habits from the past that are difficult to change, so much so that when he brings them up now, no one can understand the stories behind these habits.

"A primitive religion. I have to write it down." Ultramarine Zairo said, "We did not prohibit your beliefs, but we advocate the imperial truth. Religion will make people fall into ignorant fanaticism and rely on the fictional existence in their hearts to explain everything in the world."

The Extreme Warriors did not care too much about it. In fact, most of these mortals from various planets had various strange religious beliefs.

The promotion of the Imperial Truth did not have the expected effect.

Zaro even met a group of mortals who believed in a special kind of noodles. The strange word was called "Flying Pasta". He didn't understand it, but respected it.

"As for the question you want to ask, I can answer you. You may need to stay here for a while because there are more important things happening now."

The Ultramarines pointed to the space outside the transparent reinforcement material, where the figures of visitors coming from the warp could be vaguely seen.

"The Dark Angels will meet with us. Lord Roboute has issued an order for a military parade. They will hold a grand military parade at the Military Square in the capital."

(End of this chapter)