The mention of the Punishment Priest made Tony visibly shudder. The kind of Astartes who could put fear into fellow warriors wasn’t just tough—he was the kind of nightmare that stories were made of. Asmodai was one of those nightmares. Even in the already neurotic Dark Angels, he stood out as a true zealot among zealots.

John had heard enough rumors about Asmodai to last a lifetime and had no intention of meeting him if he could help it.

“I don’t see the problem with David, brothers,” Randy chimed in, his voice calm and measured. “Rationality and efficiency are exactly what we need.”

Robert rolled his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. “Are you out of meat too, Randy? You’re starting to sound like a coghead.”

“Done,” David announced, his mechanical voice cutting through the banter. The tech-priest’s movements were swift and deliberate as he flipped a lever on the shuttle’s diagnostic panel. The circuits sparked to life, their complex configurations linking directly to his neural interface. David’s mechanical right eye flickered with streams of data, glowing like a cold, unblinking star.

As if on cue, servo-skulls emerged from the shadows, hovering with an eerie hum. Their dark-green scanning beams swept over the shuttle’s interior, leaving no corner untouched. Their restless buzzing filled the air, causing John to rise from his reclined position. He approached David, drink in hand, his expression a mix of curiosity and impatience.

“Found anything yet? I went to a lot of trouble to get this junk back without blowing my cover as an inquisitor. I’d better hear some good news.”

David’s tone was as flat as ever, his electronic voice buzzing with precision. “Your expectations are illogical, John. Objective data does not alter to satisfy subjective desires. You are experiencing a common cognitive bias—”

“Alright, alright,” John cut him off with a wry smile, raising his free hand. “Spare me the lecture, wise one. Just tell me, have you found anything worth our time?”

David’s servo-skulls whirred away, their task complete. He turned his partially mechanical face toward John, his cold gaze unwavering. “May the Omnissiah bless you, Inquisitor. I have uncovered something of interest.”

With a mechanical whirr, a slender arm extended from David’s shoulder, plugging a data cable into the shuttle’s holographic projector. A cascade of patterns and symbols burst to life, filling the air with a chaotic display of data. The towering Astartes crowded closer, their armored forms dwarfing the device as they peered at the swirling, unintelligible mass.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, Old David,” Robert said, scratching his head, “but this thing looks like the pie I had once. Can’t make heads or tails of it.” He nudged Tony with his elbow. “You get it?”

Tony stared at the display for a moment, then turned and poked Johnson. “Do you?”

The chain continued until it reached Randy, who sighed heavily. “Sage, can you filter out the clutter and isolate the data post-space station crisis? The subsystem for Imperial Security Protocol should suffice.”

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David’s metallic voice hummed with approval. “Correct, Randy. You would make an excellent techmarine candidate. Consider Mars.” He began refining the display, the chaotic data resolving into clear streams of information.

Robert grinned, leaning back. “Good work, Randy. Maybe next you can sharpen my chainsword.”

Randy’s response was dry. “Get lost.”

As the data cleared, the Astartes leaned in closer, their collective attention locked on the projection. John’s brows arched as he processed the new information. “So, what were those fools hauling that overloaded the shuttle?”

According to the logs, the traitors had carried something aboard during their escape. Whatever it was, they had prioritized it over everything else, even though it pushed the shuttle beyond its limits. The resulting strain had caused their eventual crash on Owen-4 after the fuel ran dry. “A machine? Some kind of relic?” Tony ventured.

Johnson, the eldest among them, shook his head. “No relic would be stored in a station like that. As for machines, they wouldn’t have been able to move anything that heavy.”

John stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Any video logs from the cabin?”

“Damaged beyond recovery,” David replied. “But I did find this.”

A mechanical hand extended, presenting a fragment to John. He turned it over in his palm, recognition dawning. “Bone fragments? Human bones?”

David nodded. “The cabin was littered with them. Dried blood stains were also present.”

Johnson’s expression darkened. “A ritual, perhaps? Some kind of blood sacrifice? That might explain the missing bodies.”

“Could be Chaos cultists,” Tony offered. “Maybe they were trying to summon guidance from their dark gods.”

John shook his head. “Unlikely. Khorne followers prefer living sacrifices. And if they were alive, they wouldn’t have been locked in the shuttle like cargo.” He stared at the fragments, his mind racing. “This just keeps getting more interesting.”

David’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Inquisitor, what is your next command?”

“Bring me anything else you find,” John replied. “We’re not done yet.” He activated his communicator. “Bryan, are we close?”

The reply crackled through. “Nearly there. I’ll hold the ship behind the desolate world. Your shuttle’s good to go.”

“Perfect. Make sure we’re fueled up.” Turning back to the Astartes, John gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry, brothers, but this next part of the investigation is mine to handle.”

As the shuttle descended through the stormy atmosphere, John’s gaze remained fixed on the hive world below. Even from this height, the scale was staggering. Towering spires pierced the sky, their upper levels glittering with opulence. Beneath them, countless layers of dense, labyrinthine structures stretched toward the planet’s core.

Hive worlds were marvels and monstrosities of humanity. Each one was a sprawling testament to human ingenuity and excess, where billions lived and toiled in a chaotic blend of glory and decay. These planets consumed everything—resources, ecosystems, and lives—until the only thing left to give was humanity itself.

John took a deep breath as the shuttle broke through the final layers of turbulence. The sight of the hive city loomed larger, a sprawling, pulsing behemoth of industry and survival. This was the Imperium’s reality, a place of endless potential and unrelenting despair.

Thick smoke and toxic fumes coiled upward from the surface, staining the sky a sickly gray-green. The air reeked of Mechanicum factories, their relentless output having long since erased the forests, mountains, and oceans that once graced this world. John guided the shuttle with a steady hand, his eyes scanning the labyrinth of massive buildings ahead. The shuttle, sleek and streamlined, dipped and weaved before diving beneath the opulent structures that crowned the hive city’s uppermost tiers.