Rufus slowly raised his mechanical arm in front of himself.
Every muscle beneath his body armor tightened painfully.
His eyes remained fixed on the Arbites badge Helena held high above her head.
The solid titanium insignia was genuine.
The Aquila.
The Scales of Judgment.
Neither could be forged.
That was precisely the problem.
Even a Senior Arbites Arbitrator did not possess the authority to command a force of this caliber.
Red armored giants.
Blue-black powered armor.
And that massive yellow engineering machine towering over three meters tall.
This wasn’t a pile of junk cobbled together by an Underhive gang.
Nor was it equipment the local Planetary Defense Force could ever afford.
Rufus swallowed hard.
He was gambling.
Gambling that the young Eastern man before him, who bore no symbol of the Inquisition, was bluffing.
Fake identities were traded every day in the Underhive black markets.
If he branded this entire group as heretics…
Those pristine armored machines would sell for a fortune.
Enough money to leave this rotten backwater world forever.
Enough to retire in a prosperous Hive World as a wealthy man.
“The Arbites have no authority over the Planetary Enforcers!” Rufus roared through gritted teeth.
Behind him, all sixty Enforcers pumped their combat shotguns in unison.
Clack!
Clack!
Clack!
The sound echoed throughout the underground chamber.
Rufus tapped the tactical display on his wrist.
“Present your highest Inquisition authorization code!” “Otherwise, I will contact the orbital defense station and request indiscriminate bombardment!” Leon Drake stared at him without emotion.
These local thugs really refused to surrender until they saw their own coffins.
Opening fire would be easy.
The Firebats could melt all three armored carriers into slag within seconds.
The Marines’ 8mm Gauss rounds would rip through those crude body armors effortlessly.
Sixty men…
Wouldn’t last thirty seconds.
But there was no point.
This patrol had delivered itself.
It was a ready-made transportation convoy.
And a ready-made labor force.
If a battle broke out…
The explosions and energy signatures would trigger higher-level alarms.
The Planetary Defense Force.
Orbital artillery.
The Governor’s Palace.
Every one of them would be alerted.
The advantage he had painstakingly built during the early stages would disappear because of a handful of worthless scavengers.
Far too costly.
Leon connected to Ada.
“Ada.
Take over their communications.” [Acknowledged.] [Bypassing primitive physical encryption.] [Connecting to planetary local network.] [Initial analysis complete.] [Target system contains excessive redundant religious verification, Mechanicus prayer locks, and inefficient legacy code.] [Evaluation: The fact that it still functions is miraculous.] Leon almost laughed.
“Less commentary.” “Forge an Inquisition authorization.” “Make the clearance level high enough to scare them.” [Directive updated.] [Executing intimidation protocol.] [Would you like me to emit a specialized microwave frequency to stimulate the enemy’s bladder sphincters?] [Estimated result: Collective loss of bladder control in three seconds.] [This satisfies the literal definition of ‘scaring them pissless.’] Leon nearly choked.
“Cancel!” “I was being sarcastic!” “No microwave attacks.” “Just send the authorization!” [Correction acknowledged.] [Microwave assault canceled.] [Forging Inquisition Black-Level Directive.] [Assuming control of enemy vehicle machine spirits.] Inside the underground transit hall…
Every Enforcer’s tactical display suddenly flashed crimson.
At the same time…
The heavy communications systems inside the armored carriers activated on their own.
The loudspeakers emitted harsh digital pulses that sounded like an emotionless mechanical hymn.
Rufus looked down at his display.
The green interface was forcibly erased.
A blood-red Aquila, formed from countless flowing data streams, slowly materialized.
Beneath the Imperial Eagle appeared the Inquisition’s unmistakable “I” topped with the Scales of Judgment.
A series of classified authorization codes scrolled endlessly across the screen.
[Authorization Verified.] [Holy Inquisition Black Directive.] [Directive Classification: Confidential.] [Authorized Agent: Inquisitor Leon Drake.] [Any individual obstructing this mission shall be classified as an accomplice of Chaos.] [Immediate execution authorized.] Rufus’ crude cybernetic eye immediately erupted with error warnings.
Blue sparks burst from the implant.
Electricity surged across half his face, making it twitch uncontrollably.
Then…
Clunk.
A heavy mechanical sound came from behind him.
Rufus slowly turned around.
His prized Taurus Armored Personnel Carriers…
Had been completely seized.
The Heavy Stubbers that had been aimed at Leon…
Were now slowly rotating.
The black barrels pointed directly…
At the Enforcers’ own defensive positions.
Even the searchlights changed from brilliant white…
To ominous crimson.
The blood drained from Rufus’ face.
No Underhive hacker could accomplish this.
Suppressing military communications.
Overriding armored vehicle machine spirits.
Producing Inquisition Black-Level authorization.
This was no longer a question of whether Leon’s identity was genuine.
It was simply whether Leon felt like letting him live.
Standing nearby with folded arms…
Helena’s expression remained calm.
But inside…
She was deeply shaken.
Leon hadn’t even lifted a finger.
The mysterious machine intelligence hidden behind him had already overridden the Governor’s entire authority network…
And subdued an entire Enforcer company.
Of course.
Now everything made sense.
Weapons beyond Imperial standards.
Fearless soldiers.
Complete domination over Imperial communication systems.
Every clue pointed toward the same conclusion.
Lord Leon’s mission…
Far surpassed the authority of anything on Karas.
Thud.
One young Enforcer’s legs gave way.
He collapsed into the filthy water.
His shotgun slipped from his hands.
Covering his face, he trembled uncontrollably.
It became a chain reaction.
One after another…
All sixty Enforcers discarded their weapons and dropped to their knees.
Body armor splashed into the stagnant water.
Black sludge sprayed everywhere.
Rufus’ own knees buckled.
He fell with them.
He suddenly remembered the punishment described in the Imperial Code for offending the Inquisition.
Mind erased.
Limbs removed.
Rebuilt into the lowest class of sanitation servitor.
Condemned to clean sewage in endless darkness for eternity.
A fate worse than death.
He pressed his forehead into the filthy water.
“Mercy…” “Lord Inquisitor…” “We were blind…” “Please forgive our ignorance…” Leon stepped forward.
The two Firebats moved aside.
The Marines lowered their rifles in perfect unison, opening a path.
His boots splashed into the murky water.
He walked straight toward Rufus.
None of the sixty Enforcers dared breathe.
Leon looked down at the captain who had been so arrogant moments ago.
These natives…
Raised on fear and religious superstition…
Never respected reason.
Reason made them reach for their guns.
Strength made them kneel.
“Ada.” “Scan the three armored carriers.” [Scan complete.] [Imperial Taurus Armored Personnel Carrier.] [Armor Composition: Low-purity plasteel and recycled iron.] [Estimated SCV dismantling value: 80 Minerals per vehicle.] Two hundred and forty Minerals.
Leon was very satisfied.
This unexpected windfall was enough to construct the Factory immediately.
He lifted one boot…
Resting it casually atop the twisted metal framework beside Rufus’ ruined cybernetic eye.
“I won’t kill you.” “The dead aren’t useful to me.” Rufus shivered violently and nodded again and again.
Leon crouched down.
He casually brushed the trembling body armor on Rufus’ shoulder.
“Now…” “Stand up.” “And take your men.” He pointed toward the massive steel doors of the abandoned Arbites warehouse.
“Break those doors open.” “Every piece of scrap metal.” “Every barrel of Promethium.” “I want all of it carried outside.” Rufus trembled.
“Y…
Yes!” “At once, Lord!” He tried to lift his head…
Only for Leon’s boot to press him back into the filthy water.
Cold sewage splashed across half his face.
“I’m not finished.” Leon’s voice became colder.
“Anyone who hides even a single bolt…” “Or sends even one message outside…” “I’ll dismantle him…” “Along with those three vehicles.” Rufus lay face-down in the water, trembling uncontrollably.
“I understand!” “I swear!” “We wouldn’t dare!” Only then did Leon remove his foot.
“Get to work.” Rufus scrambled to his feet and roared at his men.
“Are you deaf?!” “The Lord Inquisitor has given his orders!” “Break the doors!” “Move every crate!” “Anyone who hesitates…” “I’ll personally have him turned into a servitor!” All sixty Enforcers leaped into action.
None of them dared look at Leon.
None dared meet the gaze of the crimson-armored Firebats.
Dragging their shotguns and shock mauls behind them…
They rushed toward the warehouse entrance.
The SCV slowly rolled after them.
The heavyset driver chuckled over the comms.
“Commander.” “We’re really not dismantling the vehicles?” Leon glanced at the three armored carriers.
“We’ll use them first.” “When they’re no longer useful…” “We’ll dismantle them.” [Resource allocation approved.] [Note: Living labor currently possesses greater value than scrap metal.] Leon looked at the Enforcers scrambling frantically around the warehouse.
“For once…” “You actually said something sensible.” Standing quietly behind him, Helena spoke in a low voice.
“My lord…” “Men like Rufus are greedy.” “And they’re terrified of dying.” “But as long as you hold both the authority of the Inquisition…” “And his life…” “He’ll serve you more faithfully than any hunting hound.” Leon nodded.
“Then for now…” “He can stay on the leash.” In front of the warehouse…
A dozen Enforcers had already begun attaching industrial cutting equipment to the massive steel doors.
Brilliant sparks illuminated the darkness.
Slowly…
Amid the shriek of cutting torches…
A crack began to spread across the enormous gate.
At the same time…
On Leon’s retinal display…
The Factory icon had finally lit up.