“Not an enemy?” Clinging to his doubts, the Army Commander slung his rifle over his shoulder and stepped up to Russell’s side, looking up with him to watch the strike craft descend.
Though the surrounding soldiers remained dispersed in a defensive formation, ready for anything, the commander himself was actually inclined to believe Russell’s words.
The Gray Tempest strike craft, split off from the nanite aggregate Grey Wind, was also composed of countless microscopic nanites.
Its hull was a sleek, silver-gray, completely different in both shape and structure from any ship of the Imperium.
Its fluid, organic technological aesthetic resembled no xenos vessel he had ever heard of.
So, what was it?
“This is a human vessel from the Dark Age of Technology.”
Russell spun the lie without missing a beat.
This superb ability to fabricate stories on the fly was all thanks to his childhood experience of asking his parents for workbook money whenever he wanted to buy spicy snacks.
The Army Commander was shocked.
He knew very little about humanity’s Dark Age of Technology, having only heard vague whispers from legends preserved by the Ecclesiarchy and the Adeptus Mechanicus: it was the peak of ancient humanity, highly advanced in technology, with colonial planets spanning the cosmos.
Thus, the Dark Age of Technology was also referred to by some as the “Golden Age.” And then…
And then, nothing.
Faya was the fringe of fringe systems.
The Administratum never came to collect taxes, the Adeptus Mechanicus didn’t mine here, and even the Ecclesiarchy rarely bothered to send priests to missionary.
Expecting detailed archives here was entirely out of the question.
Human nature being what it is, people always preferred to believe what they wanted to believe.
Thus, even though Russell’s lie had no clear evidence to support it, the Army Commander did not immediately speak up to refute it.
The soldiers scattered around still held their weapons tight, aiming at the Gray Tempest strike craft resting in the center of the plaza, showing no signs of unrest over Russell’s words.
Just as Russell was silently praising the unit’s discipline, he suddenly remembered that these grunts, whose average education level was on par with a driving school, probably had no idea what the Dark Age of Technology even was.
Compulsory education certainly didn’t cover it.
Well, they were just completely clueless.
Taking a deep breath, Russell walked slowly to the strike craft.
Pressing his palm against the silver-gray hull and quickly drafting his next story, he continued to spin his lie:
“For the longest time, we believed Faya was merely a remote, barren fringe system. We believed that the Emperor’s Great Crusade conquered this place, and our ancestors arrived on colony ships to live, multiply, and build a home for generations.”
“But in truth, this notion is wrong. Faya was never a desolate wasteland, and we were not the first colonists to set foot here.”
This time, hushed gasps and murmurs began to ripple through the crowd.
The poorly educated soldiers might not have known about the Dark Age of Technology, but every single one of them knew of the Emperor’s legendary Great Crusade.
The Army Commander was visibly moved, already guessing what Russell was about to say.
“Are you saying that during the Dark Age of Technology…”
“Exactly.”
Russell nodded slightly.
“Long before the Great Crusade, in a past far more distant, humanity of the Dark Age of Technology had already reached Faya and established a civilization here. But as for what happened next, you all know the story.”
“The wicked intelligences known as Abominable Intelligence betrayed their creators. The Cybernetic Revolt swept through the entire galaxy. As one of humanity’s colonies, the Faya system was ruined during that crisis, reduced to the barren wasteland found during the Great Crusade.”
Gently caressing the silver-gray hull of the strike craft, Russell continued:
“For ages, the Imperium and the Adeptus Mechanicus have excavated and explored across the galaxy, searching for traces of bygone eras, hoping to reclaim the glorious technologies of humanity’s past. And I have found it.” He raised his head, casting his gaze toward the azure sky, where the giant warship of Grey Wind’s true form hovered just outside the atmosphere.
Silence fell over the plaza.
As one, the soldiers raised their heads to stare into the high heavens.
In the colossal size and elegant curves of the Gray Tempest mothership, they seemed to see the lingering twilight of humanity’s golden age.
Thus, Russell knew his bluff had succeeded.
Next, he established several key facts:
1.
Grey Wind was an ancient relic left behind by humans of the Dark Age of Technology.
This gargantuan warship had been parked in a hidden military base for ten thousand years, waiting for orders;
2.
He had found an ancient artifact buried deep within the mines of the southern continent—a key that could remotely activate the surviving fleet of ancient humanity.
It was this key that summoned the colossal ship, and he held a degree of control over it;
3.
The nobles who had deserted the battlefield had been completely annihilated under his command by the massive warship.
The Army Commander couldn’t process such a massive influx of information all at once.
He opened his mouth, but ultimately gave up on further questioning, uttering only a single request:
“Forgive my insolence, but… could you show me what that key looks like?”
This request was somewhat overstepping.
Russell was briefly taken aback.
It was only because of his mild temperament; if any other planetary governor in the Imperium had been questioned like this by a subordinate, they would not have let it slide.
Even if they held back their retaliation to save face in the moment, a quiet liquidation in the shadows would be inevitable.
Russell marveled at the Army Commander’s courage—or perhaps his utter recklessness.
Before he could figure out how to cover up his lie, his palm, resting on the strike craft’s hull, suddenly felt a strange sensation.
The hull, composed of countless nanites, suddenly bulged outward slightly, pressing against his palm.
A portion of the nanites detached from the craft, rapidly reassembling into a new object in his hand.
Russell realized instantly: Grey Wind was playing along.
“I forgive your insolence. But there will not be a second time.”
Turning around, Russell revealed the object in his hand to the Army Commander.
It was an egg-sized, silver-gray regular tetrahedron—four vertices, six edges, each face a perfect equilateral triangle.
It was covered in intricate, branching tree-like patterns, pulsing with faint starlight.
Anyone who laid eyes on it would immediately sense its advanced craftsmanship and profound level of technology.
As Russell raised his hand holding the tetrahedron, the Gray Tempest strike craft behind him let out a low, humming buzz.
At this point, there was no room left for doubt.
“I will board the ship to secure further control,” Russell said.
“I command you to notify officials across all regions immediately to lift the planetary state of emergency. Make sure this news does not spread to the civilian population.”
With that, he stared into the Army Commander’s somewhat bewildered yet still resolute eyes.
“As for you… your fate will be decided upon my return.”
The strike craft’s hatch hissed open.
Russell turned and stepped inside.
In the next moment, a straight contrail cut through the sky, ascending into the heavens.