Looking at the steel monolith towering amidst the wasteland, pleasant feelings flared in my chest after a job well done.
Another step has been taken toward the rebirth of a dying world, and one of the first pillars of a future civilization has been erected.
Even if all the Towers cannot be built so quickly—as it caused an insane expenditure of energy, great even for an antimatter-based generator—such demonstrations of my capabilities are simply necessary at the start.
If people consider me an omnipotent god, they will think twice before attempting to rebel.
However, I didn’t even particularly regret spending power on the Towers, which are my favorite project.
They are very specific and differ significantly from all the principles of urban planning known to me, but at the same time, it was precisely the uniqueness that I emphasized.
The old methods led Sthenelus to its doom, and therefore, relying on them was not worth it.
I developed the foundations of my state in parallel with the development of analogs to Precursor technology, which is why I managed to pull many principles together.
In free moments, my brain absorbed all my meager information about building a civilization, after which every element was either worked out by me or cast aside as unnecessary.
For example, it was during such reflections that the idea came to me to build these “towers,” where equipment for communication and remote terrain analysis was located at the very top, while the middle floors housed air filtration systems and atmospheric water condensers alongside farms.
The residential complexes and the most precious equipment are located deep underground, where it is safest.
Such a design will not only protect people and resources from electromagnetic storms, wild machines, and other incursions but will also negate accidents like break-ins to steal my secrets or even orbital bombardment.
One must be prepared for anything.
Furthermore, this monolith structure allowed me to quickly build strongholds that would gradually subjugate the entire surrounding territory on their own.
Strictly speaking, I was interested in nothing but people, remnants of ancient technology, and resources for further expansion; thus, I could expand somewhat aggressively.
And the most pleasant thing about having a countless army of nanites—too primitive to be hacked—is the ability to give them a couple of orders that can transform a hostile environment into a part of my state, fully under my control, in the shortest possible time.
The price, however, was that no one but me could use them properly, given the lack of ability to create complex blueprints in one’s mind on the fly.
Yet, it was exactly this kind of protection that appealed to me.
And even if in the future I have to further improve security, not limiting myself to the already existing twelve additional passwords—which included genetic analysis and brainwave frequency checks—for now, it was enough even against the best AIs.
The simple eye could not see it, but my swarm never stopped expanding for a second.
Having created a base from the ruins, the nanites continued to transform tons of earth, stone, and ore beneath me.
They pushed deeper into the planet’s interior in search of useful resources, creating systems to utilize the geothermal energy of the depths along the way.
Sthenelus was a very geologically active planet with many mountains and volcanoes, which would make it possible to reduce dependence on fusion reactors and antimatter converters…
Thanks to the endless untouched wastelands, where many abandoned generators remained, I had no problems with energy shortages for now, yet an infinite source was still lacking.
Precursor technologies were powered by completely incomprehensible principles, far from my specialization, so I had to make do with more primitive analogs that did not allow me, for example, to simply order the nanites to transform the entire world into one big fortress.
Further expansion might fix the problem, but what if my calculations are wrong?
What if there aren’t enough sources in the wastelands to sustain my state, forcing me to stop and thereby giving enemies a chance to prepare and build defenses?
Many hostile AIs will certainly take such an opportunity once they realize a total war has begun against them.
Therefore, alternative solutions must be sought…
Raising my head, I directed my gaze toward the heavens, which were, as always, covered by heavy gray clouds.
They shielded the sky for almost the entire year and cleared for only a couple of weeks, giving the Sun its deserved place.
Only due to the high geothermal activity providing warmth had the planet not yet turned into an icy wasteland where life is fundamentally impossible.
But I was far more interested in what the clouds hid.
Telstarax, the planetary ring and shipyard where ships for almost the entire galaxy were once built.
It was the first thing to suffer during the Great War with the machines, and the subsequent difficult thousands of years had not been kind to the megastructure’s condition.
According to information from drones I sent into the exosphere, only ruins remained of it.
But even putting aside all possibilities, just thinking about what could be achieved with generators that powered entire spaceships fills my head with ideas.
And what would happen if I directed my nanites to restore a shipyard capable of starting a new cosmic expansion?..
Taking all this into account, it will be absolutely necessary to send expeditions to Telstarax to master its vast expanses, while simultaneously working on unifying the planet.
Thus, by the end of the war, it will be possible to immediately take a step forward and rush toward harnessing the resources of the entire star system and even beyond.
Though some thoughts at the edge of my consciousness whispered quietly that travel to other star systems would encounter certain problems, the details eluded my perception.
There was just a nagging thought at the back of my mind that the whole topic of faster-than-light travel was linked to something bad and risky.
But since that isn’t on the agenda yet, I cast those thoughts aside and dealt with primary matters—conquering the world.
The first stronghold is created; a thousand more like it still need to be built.
But at the same time, it is equally important not to lose focus at a critical moment, so as not to miss the time when my people will need their king…
.
.
.
I sat on a metal throne, analyzing all the data flowing into my computers through thick cables that filled the entire floor of my personal tower’s room.
Hundreds of data streams brought thousands of images and reports to dozens of screens before me, each of which I scanned in a couple of seconds.
None of this could be seen through my lenses, but if someone were monitoring my brain activity, an extreme spike in neural performance would have betrayed my strain.
For many years now, I have been convinced that my mind possesses fantastic computational power, but never before had there been the opportunity or desire to test its multithreading.
Now, commanding hundreds of armies simultaneously, it felt as if I were omnipresent.
And my enemies could tell you all about it themselves…
…One command, and twelve tanks concentrate their firepower on a single point, exactly sixteen degrees to the left of the main metallic monster commanding its “pack.” The six-meter mechanical beast let out a roar heard for many kilometers around, but just one point two seconds later, the cliff collapsing from the strikes crushed both it and eighty-four percent of its allies.
The rest will be finished off within seven minutes, after which the entire territory of the Skyhammer clan will be fully under my control.
The population will also recognize my authority after such a demonstration.
…Another shift in attention, and my mind analyzes the position of a battlefield four hundred and fifty kilometers away in seconds.
My aerial forces cared nothing for honor or dignity, so they simply bombed the territory of the long-eared mutants* who worshipped some multi-armed deity of passion and debauchery.
They had no useful resources, and I needed to practice mass destruction technology.
Unlucky for them.
…Turning my gaze, I fully engaged in negotiations with the Fire Swimmers clan.
Nearly a thousand people, the largest settlement for many hundreds of kilometers.
They achieved this success largely thanks to a clever leader who surrendered immediately upon seeing hundreds of flying war machines hovering over his city with plasma cannons leveled.
A process was underway where my drones, together with people gathered from previous settlements, discussed the terms of their integration into my Empire.
Yes, an Empire.
Expanding and annexing new lands, I soon had to wonder what they were actually becoming a part of.
As if to spite me, not a single good idea came to mind, so I went with the first thing that surfaced.
My Empire.
The only one of its kind, so it required no other name.
What was the point, if all other states would soon simply vanish from the pages of history?
It would be even better if the very idea of my country became so monumental to everyone that even the simple thought of an alternative seemed like utter madness.
Lacking the ability to read others’ minds, thoughts of a potential rebellion never left me for a moment, forcing me to concentrate especially hard on creating a strong and stable state.
In the first year, I managed to subjugate a territory of several thousand kilometers, where fourteen towers already stood, linked by a common network.
Expeditions to the southern lands—captured mostly by mutants like rat-men or cyborgs who replaced most of their flesh with steel—were successfully completed, thereby seizing the remaining rare samples of edible plants.
Although their taste is horrifyingly repulsive, I’ve already managed to grow new ones in artificial conditions.
This means that soon my people will stop eating nothing but roots, mushrooms, and rare animals grown in chambers.
And while simple food additives improved the situation, it was already clear that this was not enough.
I placed much greater emphasis on the cultural leisure of my population.
Though I grew up among giants for whom the very concept of entertainment without benefit to the common cause seemed strange and frankly alien, even they possessed a culture.
It was quite primitive, consisting of simple songs and tales meant to teach one not to make fatal mistakes while wandering the wastelands, but it was curious nonetheless.
Every human has an inner desire for diversion, and I intended to take full advantage of this weakness of the flesh.
All my monoliths were specially designed so that, at first glance, they evoked gloom and a desire to look away.
Gray, dull tones, an absence of color, and a general style of brutalism practically stifled anyone who lived in them for more than a few days.
And is it even worth mentioning how the wasteland dwellers felt—those who from birth felt the wind of freedom and the ability to move anywhere?
Even if it was linked to the risk of dying a terrible death, the thirst for movement was practically in their blood, which is why the rigid boundaries I set stressed them so much.
Though the security systems, allowing no one in or out, stopped them from foolish actions, human idiocy is not to be underestimated.
If I did nothing, there was a high risk of rebellion and escape attempts by those fools ready to trade a practical paradise for ephemeral freedom.
However, I had provided for such an eventuality, and two plans were developed.
The first involved creating elite corps of scouts and diplomats who were permitted to leave.
A simple motivation that would drive people to improve themselves and pass all the crash courses in skill advancement I had created.
I was no professional in this field, but even if they just memorized a few key rules, it was already good.
The second part of the plan involved repurposing combat implants for hacking and code analysis into an emulated reality, the blueprints for which were in my mind.
Most of the technology I knew was for combat, but it’s no problem to change that and give them a more peaceful direction.
For example, to start with, using them for the careful “isolation” of individuals who have already broken the law and can no longer be trusted.
Simple killing brings no benefit to the state, but experiments on rapists, cultists, and cannibals might yield some utility.
So far, only a few simple game ideas sketched out in haste have been implemented, but the main thing is that a method for users to create new simulations already exists.
Wild hunters, their wives, and children—everyone was interested in the miraculous helmets capable of showing them images impossible in reality.
And the fact that each of them has a built-in brainwave sensor capable of “calming” even the most aggressive individuals just a tiny bit was merely a pleasant bonus…
A temporary solution, necessary to cull the most useless and dangerous, like the remaining cannibal tribes, and to create something more civilized—and thus useful—out of the wild peoples.
With my entire being, I felt the urge to protect people.
It was as if it were hard-coded into my genetic foundations and my very mind, residing in the same place as the knowledge of blueprints for the most wondrous technologies.
Obviously, all these emotions are externally induced, but until I figure out my own origin, I see no point in interfering with the foundations of my personality and how they were influenced.
Right now, my task is to protect humanity at any cost, and I will achieve this goal.
Whether they want it or not, every human on Sthenalus will be protected.
*I’ll just say that Medusa are near the Eye of Terror, which in the past was the Eye of Isha—the heart of the entire Aeldari Empire.
And in Warhammer, there actually was at least one human/eldar hybrid—Malcador kept one around just for the fun of it.
And since humanity definitely used to treat xenos better, while clearly interacting with space elves, then…
:3