At first glance, a feeling took hold in my mind that the surrounding world had died long ago, and I was walking upon its corpse.
A frigid icy wasteland where the ground was plated in black ice and the sky was draped in heavy gray clouds, completely blotting out the sun.
The wind played among the mountains, scattering filthy gray snow.
In the distance lay the mountains of the northern reach; ahead stretched the lowlands of fierce winds and stinging, almost predatory squalls of dust.
It was bisected by a wide belt of metallic junk that seemed to come alive in the wind.
Mangled wreckage tumbled across the wasteland like formless legions of dark iron which, despite their apparent vigor, did not travel far.
The storm pushed them back and forth, gradually burying them in the black sand.
And not a single living soul besides myself.
Not a single bush, tree, or even a blade of grass.
Only dead, cold earth.
Having no other choice, I began to descend the mountain, searching for traces of anything at all.
Squatting down, I ran my hand through the gray snow, taking a handful to study.
Bringing it closer and sifting through the grains, I noticed it was ordinary snow mixed with something foreign—a strange metal or stone that completely coated the mountains.
Studying the black ice yielded the same result.
It was merely frozen water mixed with that same metallic sand.
Curiously, the ice proved far stronger than expected; attempting to chip off even a small piece with my spear proved difficult.
It was tougher than steel or ordinary stone.
Nevertheless, I still proved stronger.
The sharp ice crystal was also much heavier than I thought.
Carefully drawing its jagged edge across a nearby rock, I sliced through it like a knife through butter.
Well, I thought, this too will be useful.
Quickly fashioning a sort of belt from the remnants of my cloth, I attached the makeshift knife and pressed on.
I continued to scout for traps and keep a close watch on my surroundings, but there was no one around.
And even after several hours, I had not met anyone…
living.
It turned out that the latter distinction was truly vital here.
They appeared as if out of thin air.
As I moved forward, blue-green sparks suddenly began to flicker around me.
Translucent silhouettes of people appeared and vanished instantly, so fast that they couldn’t be viewed closely.
Following my instincts, I immediately braced for battle, leveling my spear and watching them intently, looking for a pattern in their appearances.
I did not have to wait long.
After ten seconds, a new flash flared a few meters ahead of me, but this time it did not vanish.
The gray figure of an elderly man appeared, shrouded in a bright green glow.
The man’s eyes shone, but no intellect was visible within them.
His face seemed frozen in a state of an eternal scream, yet the voice that drifted from his open mouth was deathly cold and hollow:
“Completion.”
He spoke in one of the languages that had been embedded in my mind.
But the tone itself could portend nothing good.
“Completion.”
Abruptly, a new figure appeared to my left.
A woman in her thirties with long black hair, pale skin, and the same hollow eyes shining like lanterns.
Her head twitched, occasionally dissolving into a cluster of elementary particles before instantly reassembling.
And the same dead voice accompanied a face frozen in a single agonizing moment.
“Completion.”
To my right, the ghost of a child of about six materialized, staring straight into my soul with those same cold, mindless eyes.
Tears were frozen on his face; his left arm was entirely missing, replaced by a flickering array of pixels.
I tried to step out of the circle formed by these strange apparitions, but this was only the beginning.
“Completion.”
With every passing second, more silhouettes appeared around me.
Women, men, children—all of them tracked my every move.
The moment I took a single step, even more translucent beings appeared, falling apart and instantly snapping back together.
And with every new spirit, their voice, chanting the same word, grew louder.
I had no desire to simply stand and watch, so I decided to act.
First, I tried to at least touch one of the ghosts with my spear.
To my surprise, it did not react at all, and the tip simply passed through it.
Well then…
The ghosts materialized quickly, but they thought slowly.
Taking a feinting step in one direction, where new spirits immediately began to manifest, I bolted in the other, through a small gap where the strange spirits were absent.
The moment I broke their circle, a sharp, incredibly loud scream hit my ears.
But when I turned around, they were already gone…
Yet it was no time to relax.
I immediately had to dodge again—this time from razor-sharp metallic claws that whistled a centimeter from my neck.
Executing a sharp pivot and striking with my spear, I managed to sever the monster’s hand, though the creature hardly seemed to notice the loss of the limb.
Lunging forward, I managed to evade further attacks and get a good look at my enemy.
At first glance, it was some kind of humanoid in heavy but badly broken armor that covered its entire body.
Two arms, two legs, a head, and a rotten maw full of metallic fangs.
The creature was slightly smaller than me, concealed beneath a bronze-colored ceramite shell; between the bundles of cables and metallic growths on its back, patches of black, dead flesh were visible.
Rows of pictograms were etched into the curved plates of its carapace, but dust, sand, and the passage of time had eroded any meaningful text.
I began to study the dead monster while it studied me.
It resembled a predator waiting for the moment to pounce on its prey and tear it to pieces.
Except here, I was the hunter.
Leveling my spear and preparing to attack, I reached for the ice dagger with my other hand.
When a fresh gust of wind kicked up sand and black snow, the beast made its move.
It made a lightning-fast dash toward me, emitting something like a wild roar.
I was ready; the spear immediately pierced the creature’s chest, hitting the spot where a heart should have been.
But this dead thing seemingly had little need for one, as it didn’t even notice the blow.
Another swing of claws, another dodge and a leap—I found myself a couple of meters away.
The dagger was already in my hand.
The spear in its chest hindered its movement slightly, an advantage I had to exploit.
Vaulting with all my strength, I dodged a new strike.
Diving beneath its legs, I made a slash across the tendons, causing the beast to drop instantly to its knees.
The creature tried to swipe at me again with its remaining hand, but I was faster.
Slipping past, I caught its arm in a lock and swung the primitive blade once more—the hand flew off instantly.
The beast tried to lunge at me, but my body seemed to recall the knowledge of how to fight on its own.
Before its head could reach my arm, I deftly gripped the knife with both hands and drove it with all my might into the creature’s skull.
The crunch of bone, the screech of metal, and a flash of sparks from broken instruments were the heralds of my victory.
Curiously, I wasn’t even tired after the battle.
It felt as if my organism were designed for combat.
Retrieving my spear, I used it to deliver several more blows to the head to ensure the beast’s demise.
I cut off the jaw, just in case, and began my investigation.
The monster proved very intriguing.
Inside, behind the cracked and broken helmet, was a face.
Pale, with coarse features—as if painted onto the skull—framed by an unkempt mane the color of ash, it possessed its own symmetry.
The forehead pressed against the helmet liner as if the dead man were squinting sideways.
Strands of hair fell over bruises spreading across the skin.
The face was marked by wide-open dark eyes and blue-tinged lips.
I was almost entirely certain that this had once been an ordinary human.
Patches of half-rotted flesh remained untouched, yet most of the body was covered in metal that had eaten into the very foundations of the organism like a parasite.
The monster’s skin had fused with the steel, and most of its skull was simply gone—the helmet replaced it, covering putrid blood and thick gray slime.
In the brain I had destroyed, there was also a whole heap of various mechanisms, impossible to identify now even for me.
I conducted the study with maximum care to avoid catching any contagion from this corpse.
For that reason, I chose not to take anything from my first “kill.” The risk of merging with metal was not worth it.
Finishing my inspection and ensuring no one else was around, I continued my journey.
And then, amidst the analysis of my surroundings, something else surfaced in my thoughts.
I wanted very much for there to be someone alive here besides myself.
.
.
.
As time passed, I confirmed that my sensory organs also far surpassed those of ordinary humans.
Only the most advanced technical modifications could match the visual acuity of my eyes.
And it was thanks to them, while crouched behind a rock, that I managed to see unknown figures walking a kilometer away.
Human or not—that was the question.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t reach a definitive conclusion yet.
I had already seen that this place was full of all manner of threats; trusting a first impression here was a fool’s errand.
The group consisted of ten humanoids.
They had brownish-bronze skin, white hair, and emerald eyes that sparkled even from a distance.
Almost all were dressed in dark gray armor, looking as if it were crafted from the stone itself, covering their bodies almost entirely.
They held elongated silver rods in their hands, which I recognized as highly advanced weaponry; blueprints for them surfaced in my head of their own accord.
Even though I was far from them, I somehow felt—almost physically—the immense power hidden within the weapons.
Some form of armament powered by almost any available energy source, emitting a focused beam of ions.
A miniature lightning thrower.
The tallest of the group stood out, a head taller than the rest.
Instead of armor, he wore a light white toga and held no weapon.
He seemed completely indifferent to the surrounding cold; the giant showed not a shred of discomfort.
On the contrary, wisdom and strength could be felt in his gaze even from afar.
This was how an ancient deity might look, having taken form to converse with mortals.
And while they looked strange at first due to their unusual skin color, that was a trifle compared to the techno-zombies and ghosts inhabiting this dead valley.
Only after creeping closer and peering more intently did I notice another, much greater oddity—each of them was several times taller than an ordinary human.
By my rough estimates, the height of the common warriors was around three meters, and the leader’s nearly three and a half.
With this information, the situation changed cardinally.
If I revealed myself and approached them, and they turned out to be enemies—I was dead.
A single strike of theirs would kill me, and attempting to run from nine ion weapons was extremely risky.
Yet if I wanted to negotiate peacefully and start a conversation, I would have to get very close, where all the advantages would be on their side.
On the other hand, I didn’t have much of a choice.
In the roughly fifteen to twenty hours I had spent studying the mountains, this was the first form of true life possessing even a spark of intelligence.
Not only were there no animals—even plants were non-existent as a species.
The only sources of nutrients fit for consumption were the earth and the zombies.
But I would rather starve than start eating them.*
There was no water either, and I was already experiencing thirst, occasionally eyeing the gray snow.
Simple ideas even drifted at the edge of my consciousness—taking that snow and using it as a source of decent steel for future creations.
And though I am hardy, I doubt even I could digest that.
Even using filters.
Furthermore, I felt night approaching and the temperature beginning to drop.
It had fallen to a level where even I, in my clothes, was struggling.
The only option was to return to the caves to wait a while and then set out to explore again…
in search of what?
I wasn’t even sure what planet I was on or what era it was.
It was unknown if there was any civilization here at all.
I was curious to know how they could adapt to such conditions, and why they hadn’t dealt with the handful of roaming monsters that had become the new kings of nature.
I needed sources of information.
I needed food, water, and a place to wait out the weather.
A place where I could be protected and sleep peacefully without fearing a cyber-dead attack.
And all my study of the territory for dozens of kilometers had led to only one conclusion—there is no life here.
My only chance of survival might be linked to these giants.
Who clearly possessed the necessary resources—they likely didn’t grow this tall on snow alone.
Their stature also provided at least some guarantee they wouldn’t try to eat me.
I doubt I have enough meat on me to satisfy even one of them.
I pondered all this, peeking out from behind a giant rock and tracking the group’s actions.
They seemed to be searching for something, scouting the area.
And thanks to the mound of sand and snow sheltering me, I was successfully hiding…
Or so I thought, until I met the eyes of the largest giant, directed straight at me.
His gaze was calm, full of wisdom and experience.
And something, like a sixth sense, told me to go out and meet him.
*Starting a small segment dedicated to popularizing the most forgotten Legion.
The original Ferrus, upon landing on Medusa, was quite a specific individual.
He avoided any attempts to parley with other sentients and engaged in only one thing—an endless hunt for ever-larger beasts.
However, being just a boy, he could catch very little, so for the first few years, he actually fed on ordinary earth and the rare entrails of the zombies he killed.
This is the best example of a Primarch’s stomach strength, and the fact that Ferrus never gave a damn about things like “logic” or “common sense.”