"The False God visited Oud Oudia Raskian?"
"And then Oud Oudia Raskian went to the Imperial Palace?"
Irthu listened to Nessus report on Oud Oudia Raskian's movements from deep within his ancient mansion.
He lay on a chair woven from rattan, half his body twitching uncontrollably.
Irthu struggled with all his might to suppress his trembling, as if resisting his increasingly frail body.
Where was the wise, rational, cautious, and reliable Minister of Adeptus Administratum of the past?
Why do mortals age so easily? Why do they lose most of their strength and wisdom in just a few decades?
Pity surfaced in Nessus' heart, but his excellent acting skills prevented his expression from betraying this emotion.
Irthu's twitching arm gripped the rattan chair as he struggled and strained to think about the situation, trying to understand the meaning behind Oud Oudia Raskian's actions.
If it were a younger Irthu, he would have surely realized the answer by now, wouldn't he?
Clearly, Saint Doraemon and the Fabricator-General had reached some kind of consensus.
Most likely, it was because Saint Doraemon had, in some way, repaired or maintained the function of the Golden Throne, something Oud Oudia Raskian had always been preoccupied with.
Nessus knew that Saint Doraemon had indeed occupied a portion of the Warp related to the Omnissiah; in some sense, he was indeed one of the Omnissiah's candidates.
If it were Vashtorr, the spirit of the Adeptus Mechanicus might have been able to gain the protection of the false Omnissiah-Emperor through their fake and incomplete faith.
But Saint Doraemon and the Emperor had already reached an agreement; the Emperor clearly intended to sell the Adeptus Mechanicus to Saint Doraemon, making it even more impossible for the Adeptus Mechanicus to resist, and they might not even conceive of resistance.
Their own worshipped God had sold them out; what else could they do?
Unless Saint Doraemon's power was exhausted, the spirit of the Adeptus Mechanicus would be mere playthings in front of Saint Doraemon.
But for Saint Doraemon's power to be exhausted was almost impossible; he had gained the faith of billions of Terra's inhabitants through food, and Mars was too, too close to Terra.
However, for the Adeptus Mechanicus, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing; at least they truly had a God to believe in.
The Adeptus Mechanicus itself was merely a means for the Emperor to safely utilize the power of the Malicious Art domain by filtering it through the Dragon of Mars' dream, one of the Emperor's myriad lies; now, at least, their faith had come true.
Of course, Nessus did not intend to tell Irthu these things; it did not align with his true purpose and was not conducive to the Imperium embracing reform.
Gentle and rational Conservative Party members were more dangerous than extreme and foolish Conservative Party members, because the former often forced reformers to compromise.
Whereas extreme and foolish Conservative Party members would only self-destruct.
He was guiding Irthu, leading him and the Conservative Party within the entire Terra bureaucracy towards self-destruction.
"My Lord, the Fabricator-General has been extremely concerned about the Golden Throne for hundreds of years."
"He probably already wanted to go to the Golden Throne; it just so happened that the False God visited him before that."
Nessus said to Irthu in a seductive, snake-like voice.
Irthu's body couldn't help but tremble; his neuropathy was tormenting him.
"Is that truly so?" Irthu asked timidly.
"Of course, My Lord." Nessus smiled and said, "Have you forgotten the Fabricator-General's promise?"
"Now the Ministry of Justice, the Adeptus Ministorum, and Mars are all your people; the Astra Militarum and the Navy will obey you; the Custodes and the Officio Assassinorum hover, remaining neutral."
"Our chances of winning are very, very high; we just need to make our move at the next High Lord Council meeting."
"Yes, yes, yes," Irthu said, his expression a little dazed.
"You see, I almost forgot, it's time for your medicine." Nessus glanced at the clock and took out the medicine formulated by the Adeptus Mechanicus Archmagos from a small Static Field safe nearby.
This medicine was an oral solution used to relieve Irthu's neurasthenia and inject vitality into his cells.
Nessus uncorked the bottle, letting his sleeve gently hang over the opening, and a tiny, imperceptible drop of neurotoxin fell into the oral solution.
Nessus had to admit that the former Irthu was indeed an excellent Adeptus Administratum official; even the long years had not completely broken him.
This forced Nessus to use chronic neurotoxin to destroy Irthu's nerves and mind.
A wise Minister of Adeptus Administratum, an enlightened Conservative Party leader, was not conducive to the complete destruction of the Conservative Party.
This type of medicine was a specialty within the legion; even Adeptus Mechanicus priests couldn't detect it.
Irthu took the medicine from Nessus' hand and drank it down with complete trust. Of course, he would trust Nessus; Nessus was his assistant minister, raised by him since childhood, everything was tied to Irthu, making betrayal almost impossible.
Moreover, the entire process of Nessus taking the medicine was under Irthu's watchful eye; it was just that Irthu's mortal eyes could not clearly see Nessus' movements.
The medicine began to take effect, and Irthu seemed a little dizzy.
"My Lord, dizziness is normal; didn't the Archmagos of the Adeptus Mechanicus say so?"
Nessus helped Irthu up and slowly walked towards the bedroom.
Irthu struggled slightly: "I don't have time to rest; I still have work."
"I will complete it for you." Nessus showed a gentle smile.
"My child, you are so reliable." Irthu grasped Nessus' hand: "I will protect everything we once forged, protect the former Imperium, and then you will inherit my position."
"My Lord, I only wish to serve you." Nessus smiled as he covered Irthu with a blanket, then slowly exited the bedroom and went to Irthu's desk, looking at the documents that the Minister of Adeptus Administratum had to handle.
They were piled high like a mountain; Irthu had processed about half of them, but as Nessus expected, many of those Irthu had handled contained subtle loopholes and flaws.
His nerves had been destroyed by chronic neurotoxins, and his will and thoughts were far from what they used to be, increasingly so over the past decade or so.
Nessus sighed and began to correct the small mistakes Irthu had made, processing the remaining government affairs.
"If this Imperium didn't have us, it would fall apart."
Nessus shook his head, feeling deeply fatigued:
"However, everything done hereafter is for the Emperor, after all."
What Nessus didn't know was that not far behind him, Sylandri Shadowseer, a Harlequin Shadowseer wearing a Blind Spot Star, was watching him.
Humans sure play games, Sylandri Shadowseer couldn't help but sigh in her heart.
Nessus' series of actions just now, including the poisoning, were all witnessed by her.
This kid was clearly not normal, but Alexander and Guilliman had not ordered the net to be cast.
"Wait a little longer; if we cast the net now, who will do the work?"
Alexander and Guilliman both told Sylandri Shadowseer this.
Humans sure play games, watching Nessus diligently working, the Aeldari Harlequin Shadowseer couldn't help but sigh again.
Humanity's 'play' was truly unique, abstract, and bizarre.
Within the Battle Sister, there were two main headquarters abbeys.
One was the Most Holy Abbey, located on the Ophelia VII satellite, humanity's second holy site and the Adeptus Ministorum's second base outside of Terra.
The other was the Most Serene Abbey, located on Terra, which was the one Alexander visited today.
After Fabricator General Oudia went to the Golden Throne, Alexander, according to plan, visited this headquarters of the Battle Sister with Nobita.
But at this moment, Alexander's thoughts were still on Oudia's words.
Oudia had asked Alexander about the "Dragon on Mars."
Alexander, of course, knew what that was: the Dragon of Mars, sealed deep within the Noctis Labyrinth on Mars by the Emperor, a suspected fragment of the Void Dragon C'tan, and very likely the true form of the Omnissiah worshipped by the Adeptus Mechanicus.
But Alexander did not immediately answer Oudia's question, as this matter concerned one of the Emperor's colossal lies, regarding the entire birth of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
Instead, he asked Oudia where he had learned of the Dragon's existence, but Oudia could only say it was in a dream, and only on Mars would he have that dream, almost forgetting it quickly upon waking.
Oudia now only vaguely remembered the existence of the "Dragon," but did not know the specifics.
Alexander planned to discuss it with Guilliman and Sanguinius later, then go to the Emperor to clarify the specific situation before making a decision.
"My Lord?" Morven Vahl noticed Alexander's distraction and asked with concern, "Is something important?"
"Just about a grand deception that has lasted ten thousand years; it can wait for now."
Alexander shook his head and said, then turned to Morven Vahl:
"Where were you just now?"
"I was just saying that thanks to your benevolence, most of the inhabitants are now well-fed."
"However, our practice of freely distributing water and food has undermined the interests of many guilds, and those merchants are very dissatisfied."
Morven Vahl's lips were slightly pursed, seemingly displeased with those guild merchants.
"Is there trouble?" Alexander asked with a smile.
"You know, our Battle Sister sisters are not eloquent and are clumsy with words, unlike those glib merchants."
Morven Vahl also showed a slight smile:
"But thankfully, by your blessing, our boltguns are always articulate; they help us negotiate with the guild merchants."
"Our boltguns often, with thunderous and deafening eloquence, make those guild merchants open their hearts and fall silent."
"That's fine." Alexander nodded slightly: "But you must exercise restraint when killing."
"Hm?" Morven Vahl blinked lightly, not understanding the meaning of Alexander's words.
"Try to ensure the integrity of the bodies so as not to affect their recycling into protein blocks and corpse starch." Alexander softly advised: "I've seen the data compiled by Guilliman; food is still very scarce right now, so don't waste it."
The power of a boltgun was too strong for mortals; one careless shot and they would be charred, making recycling into corpse starch and protein blocks very troublesome.
Morven Vahl bowed her head devoutly, humbly accepting Alexander's teachings.
Then she pointed to a small abbey annex building in front of them.
"My Lord, the Saint is waiting for you inside."