Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 882, page 08.881: 'Where is the Lord of the Night? (Seeking monthly votes!)'

"+Self-purification protocol complete...Rebooting biological and mechanical systems+"

A sharp system beep exploded inside my head, drowning out all other sounds.

The relay snapped shut with a crisp sound, the capacitor emitted a high-frequency hum, and finally, the lungs contracted sharply under a forced command.

"Ah!—"

Lati gasped for breath of the cold, circulating air and opened her eyes.

The optical sensors in her mechanical eyes flickered and regained their function, and data streams swept across the edge of her field of vision like a waterfall.

She immediately reduced her sensory input to the lowest level to suppress the throbbing pain caused by the remaining neurotoxins.

The contractions felt like red-hot steel needles, constantly probing every nerve ending in her body.

“Damn Bloodlust…” she cursed under her breath, her voice hoarse with a hint of static.

This curse was not born of emotion, but rather a logical conclusion—anyone who dares to inject biological agents into a Mechanicus priest should be classified as “deserving of death.”

She sat up, her movements fluid yet eerie.

What supports her torso is no longer a fragile flesh and blood spine, but a complex hydraulic and servo system.

Eight metallic prosthetics, gleaming with a dark light, unfolded from behind her, like the segmented legs of a spider, their magnetic suction cups and claws scraping softly and harshly against the lattice floor.

They supported her, allowing her to smoothly climb up the bulkhead and finally stand firmly on a combat platform made of eight legs, looking down from above.

This compartment is the ship's secondary power relay station, a sacred space constructed of steel and brass.

The towering dome was hidden in darkness, with only a few flickering emergency lights casting long, distorted shadows on the walls filled with pipes and instruments.

The air was filled with the smells of ozone, overheated metal, and the sweet, metallic odor of blood.

On the floor, the corpses in crew uniforms lay scattered about, their expressions frozen in the final moments of terror as they were murdered by the Blood Demons, their limbs twisted in unnatural poses.

Just then, a figure emerged from the deepest shadow.

It was a tall warrior clad in jet-black power armor, as if midnight itself had been given form.

His armor bore no emblems or insignia, only countless marks and scars from battles, each telling a story of a forgotten war.

Most striking was his helmet—a menacing skull mask, its crimson visors like two burning embers in the dim light, coldly staring at her.

He stood there, eerily still, as if the steel deck beneath his feet did not bear his superhuman weight, and his very existence was merely an optical illusion.

Lati's optical sensors focused on him, instantly completing the threat assessment.

She glanced at the twitching, indescribable mass of rotting flesh on the ground—once the Bloodling's flesh, now just a mixture of biomass and broken alien technology.

"Did you end it, monk?" Lati's voice was broadcast through an external speaker, the calm and steady synthesized voice surprisingly revealing a hint of approval.

“Yes, Tech Priest.” Albion’s voice came from beneath the skull mask, deep and cold, like an echo from a tomb.

“Very good. Now, escort me to the energy hub.” Latti’s tone left no room for argument, as if he were giving instructions to a reliable server.

"Yes, Father Technician."

Lati turned around, and the eight-legged platform propelled her toward the main cabin of the energy center with an inhuman elegance.

The scene there was even more gruesome, with corpses piled up around the massive plasma conduits, like poor offerings to some bloodthirsty god.

Brother Albion followed silently behind her.

For such a colossal creature, his footsteps were surprisingly light, almost nonexistent, like a ghost wandering through a steel jungle. "You seem to have something to say." Lati didn't turn around; her sensors could easily detect the most subtle electromagnetic fluctuations and changes in biosignals within his armor.

She crossed her two hands, covered in artificial skin and now damaged in several places, revealing the alloy skeleton underneath, in front of her, and walked with composure, like a cold queen walking towards her territory.

"Where is he?" The hissing voice pierced through the reactor's low growl, direct and sharp.

"Who is 'he'?" Latti's tone was completely flat, as if he were dealing with an insignificant data query.

“You know that,” the black-armored warrior said.

Father Latti's organic brow furrowed slightly.

This feeling... this aura surrounding him, a mixture of absolute confidence and endless despair, seemed somewhat familiar.

“No, I don’t know, monk. I won’t make any guesses about your query until you give me the exact identifier.”

Black Shield followed silently, his crimson goggles always fixed on her.

The two walked forward for several dozen meters, passing through a narrow maintenance passage. This was the ship's interior, a forgotten corner, devoid of any surveillance cameras, only the gaze of the dead and the ghastly green light cast by emergency lights.

A name was slowly uttered from the Black Shield's speaker, each syllable seemingly carrying immense weight.

“Conrad…”

He paused for a moment, as if savoring the pain and power that the name carried.

"Koz."

The eight-legged platform of the Lati came to an instant, emitting a slight hydraulic braking sound.

She slowly turned around, her entire upper body rotating 180 degrees with the mechanical chassis, looking down at the black-armored warrior in front of her.

Her optical sensors zoomed in, making every scratch on his visor clearly visible.

"What makes you think that I, a mere Tech Priest, would know the whereabouts of a traitorous Primarch who has been missing for a thousand years?" Her voice was as cold as the vacuum of interstellar space, and her face wore a cold, business-like smile.

"Prophecy." Albion's voice remained unwavering. "Moreover, the Lord of the Night has not betrayed us."

"A baseless assertion. And who are you? His avenger, or... his offspring?"

Black Shield did not answer this question.

Silence itself is an answer.

He chose a different route of attack, aiming straight for the vital points.

“I know your secret plan.”

These words were like a sharp dagger, bypassing all defenses and precisely piercing the core of the technical priest.

Lati's biological eyes instantly darkened, the tactical module restarted after crashing, and the data stream rolled wildly in her field of vision, but the smile on her lips remained calm and composed, like the most exquisite and perfect portrait.

"so what?"

She sneered, a hint of mockery in her voice, "You want to stop me? With your abilities? You can't."

“I don’t care about your plans. I just need what I need.” The visor on the Black Shield Warrior’s helmet glowed with an even deeper crimson, like blood about to spill out. “I’m willing to pay any price for that.”

Or, I'll make you pay any price.

(End of this chapter)