Horatio rested very well that night, experiencing a tranquility and peace he had never felt since arriving in this world.
In the early morning, after a brief meal and thanks, the shuttle's engines roared, quickly ascending and disappearing into the distance.
"Mr. Horatio is truly impressive, Mom," Thei said, smiling with narrowed eyes.
"Of course, he is excellent. But he is not yet worth pouring too much emotion into, my dear.
His path of training is still long and dangerous. The more you favor him, the harder it will be when you hear of his misfortune; this is my personal experience."
The noblewoman sighed, caressing her daughter's soft hair with a wry smile: "You are still young, you don't understand these things."
"If he simply died, I wouldn't care about him, Mom," the girl said, opening her eyes and speaking cruel words that perfectly fit the Warhammer world with a brilliant smile.
"Only powerful men are qualified to stand beside me and fight alongside me, but I think Mr. Horatio has that potential."
"Oh, of course, my dear, there's no girl on the entire planet more capable and outstanding than you."
The beautiful woman smiled, took her daughter's hand, and walked towards the palatial official residence.
"Only the strongest man is worthy of the most excellent you.
As for whether Mr. Horatio can become such a strong man, I think time will give us the answer."
—
"The sun is shining; it's a good day for a report!" Commodore Peru said happily.
From high in the sky, Horatio saw the full scope of Gotha University.
It covered at least 8,000 square kilometers; the largest university on Earth was not even a tenth of its size.
The campus featured a vast artificial ocean, forests, mountains, and various other terrains, with all six colleges of Gotha University located within.
The colleges were connected by massive sky bridges, each with unique and fitting architectural designs.
Ravensberg Higher College resembled a super-enlarged combination of Cambridge, Oxford, and Warwick universities, with classical Baroque and Gothic architecture that was grand, magnificent, and rich in historical and academic ambiance.
Plymouth Womens College, viewed from above, looked like a castle courtyard from elven mythology, symmetrically structured, beautiful, and magnificent, with white walls and golden tiles, incredibly luxurious.
The cathedral in Saint Sava Seminary soared into the clouds, reaching for the sky, entirely Gothic in style; although it seemed monotonous and rigid, its massive main structure and countless sculptural decorations compensated for this.
Abyss Port Institute of Technology was shrouded in thick smoke, with various colossal machines, both civilian and military, arrayed in storage yards, and a multitude of laboratories scattered across different blocks; rather than being haphazardly planned, it seemed the wise men and Fathers within had spontaneously divided the territory and academic zones.
Gothic College of Political Economy was located right next to the planetary Ministry of Internal Affairs, with the two essentially forming a single entity, allowing bureaucrats to summon the attending aides at any time for free labor.
Saint Abridal Successor Academy had diverse styles due to its different campuses, with the Naval Campus being the largest, featuring Gothic red-brick architecture, and a massive parade ground where a 1.5-kilometer long, 300-meter wide Cobra-class Destroyer was fixed to the ground, serving for on-board practical training for students of various majors.
Even the smallest warship in the Imperial Navy looked so huge and grand when compared to the ground buildings.
She was small (not small at all!) but complete, with an astonishingly large (relative to ground structures) light Macro cannon turret at the bow, four teaching-building-sized torpedo tubes, twin-linked plasma engines side-by-side, and four massive horizontal T-shaped heat sinks that were highly distinctive, helping the warship remain stably moored on the reinforced ground.
"Get ready, Mr. Horatio, we'll be landing in one minute. Put on your cap, straighten your sash, and welcome to the cradle of the Gothic Fleet!"
"Commodore Peru, isn't this a Loyalist Academy?"
"With such excellent teaching facilities and faculty, wouldn't it be a waste to only serve the Childer of Loyalty?" Rear Admiral Edward laughed heartily:
"Your classmates will also include preparatory students from the Officer Preparatory School.
These individuals are not Childer of Loyalty; their parents are mid-to-low ranking officers, Naval Sergeants, Warrant Officers, civilian officials, and all others who serve the Imperial Navy, and this system was established for their children to join the Navy.
After all, not everyone can send their children directly onto a ship as a Midshipman; there aren't that many slots on each vessel.
The only difference between preparatory students and Childer of Loyalty Marine is that if their academic credits are not up to standard, they will not be transferred to the Childer of Loyalty Stormtroopers but will be granted a military rank corresponding to their academic credits upon graduation and assigned to a ship as a dedicated Sergeant.
Military preparatory school is also the only chance for these children to compete for Midshipman positions in the Navy, so they are very competitive."
The Loyalist Academy is composed of four parts: the Loyalist Nurturing School, the Sergeant Training School, the Officer Preparatory School, and the Military University.
The Loyalist Nurturing School focuses on closed training and initial screening for Childer of Loyalty under 12 years old.
The Sergeant Training School is equivalent to a military middle school.
The Officer Preparatory School is equivalent to a university preparatory course + vocational/general education. Here, vocational refers to Western-style vocational education, as officers are a military profession, so Western military academies are vocational schools.
The Military University uses a university major + graduate training model.
The shuttle landed on the tarmac.
"Commodore Peru, everything is ready." Lieutenant Stirling, who had been waiting there, stepped forward to greet him.
"Thank you for your hard work, Lieutenant Stirling."
Horatio followed the two into the tallest main building, which resembled a ship's bridge.
As he stepped into the building, the solemnity of a Gothic cathedral washed over him. The three walked up a spiral staircase and stood before a huge room. The large doors slowly opened, revealing a dark and cold room.
"Please come in," Rear Admiral Edward said.
"This is?"
"The place where the Childer of Loyalty surgery is performed," Lieutenant Stirling replied.
The moment Horatio stepped through the door, it slowly closed again.
He looked around. In the center of the room, two rows of tall, ornate Roman columns were displayed, adorned with banners embroidered with the Imperial double-headed eagle.
A golden-red carpet in the middle formed a path leading to the operating altar. Sunlight streamed through the cool-toned stained-glass windows on both sides, illuminating the red carpet, as if inviting visitors to step forward.
Horatio's gaze moved forward, and he saw a solitary figure standing on the altar.
His eyesight was good enough; he could clearly see the person, but because it was too far from his preconceived notions, he blinked, wanting to confirm again.
Finally, he was certain he hadn't seen wrong: it was a tall, slender, upright woman, holding a machine gods axe and wearing the red robe of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
She stood by the life-detection Thinker Array on the altar, awaiting his arrival, with two surgical Servo-skulls floating around her.
"Nice to meet you, individual Ho… Oh, pardon me, Childer of Loyalty Horatio Kirkland. I am Rati-EB2A1, both a Fabricator and a Genetor, and I will be in charge of your surgery. Please step forward."
The woman's voice sounded cheerful, gentle, and clear, audible even from a distance, clearly enhanced by a specialized high-quality sound array.
[Rati-EB2A1? The Tech-Priest who created the Antcow specimen? She's in charge of my surgery??]
Horatio felt a chill run down his spine.
As Horatio drew closer to her, he could examine her more clearly.
The Father's red robe was a relatively new holy vestment, which, along with the brand-new machine gods axe in her hand, indicated that this person was either a newly promoted Father who had recently advanced from an apprentice, or had a strong obsession with cleanliness.
Of course, Horatio thought it was more likely both.
The upper right half of her face beneath the crimson hood had been replaced by a cold, glowing red bionic eye;
Her face was thin and elongated, and the modified part still couldn't hide the mature charm characteristic of a thirty-year-old woman. Her skin was smooth and fair, and her features were sculpted and delicate, making it impossible to imagine associating her with the Adeptus Mechanicus.
Her sole remaining brown iris stared intently at Horatio, her face expressionless, like a flesh-and-blood sculpture embedded with tubes.
"Childer of Loyalty, I trust you are prepared to dedicate yourself to the God-Emperor."
As Horatio approached, she unexpectedly revealed a smile, an expression that could even be described as 'sweet.'
It was then that Horatio realized she wasn't looking at him, but rather staring directly at his metal iron hand.
"Greetings, esteemed Father Lati." Horatio respectfully bowed to her: "I am prepared to dedicate myself to the God-Emperor."
"The God-Emperor approves of your courage and devotion."
As she spoke, she raised her mechanical hands, which were attached to human arm sections, and performed the Cog-Rite for Horatio—a variation of the aquila salute, with fingers splayed.
Meanwhile, the two crimson steel prosthetics behind her pinched the sides of her holy vestment's skirt, performing a lady's curtsey to him.
The fusion of human and steel, the integration of humanity and machine, created a striking contrast that astonished Horatio.
As she moved, a peculiar incense mixed with a faint scent of machine oil wafted into Horatio's nostrils; he was certain it emanated from this Tech-Priest.
Its fragrance differed from the strong, pungent incense commonly used by the Ecclesiarchy; the olfactory experience it provided was very… peculiar.
The scent was very subtle, like exhaust, vanilla, kerosene, sandalwood, musk, botanical herbs, floral notes, machine oil, and many other ingredients, layered and smoked in sequence, ultimately shedding the pungent odors to leave only an intoxicating industrial allure.
It's hard to say whether humans would like it, but the machine soul would probably love it.
Horatio looked at the lady before him—he would call her that for now, though he wasn't sure if there was truly a gender distinction within the Adeptus Mechanicus.
He had to admit her facial expression management was excellent; she consistently maintained that warm and friendly smile.
Yet, upon closer thought, these actions created an unrealistic and significant disconnect from her identity.
From his understanding of the Adeptus Mechanicus before his transmigration, the descriptions he had encountered were practically a collection of stereotypical negative impressions.
Selfish, dull, mad, eerie, rigid, isolated, cold, reclusive, arrogant…
But the lady before him, judging by her appearance, did not fit any of these negative terms.
Horatio didn't know if this was merely an appearance or if it was truly the case.
Two Servitors slowly walked towards Horatio. As servants of this Goddess Priest, their attire was quite distinctive.
They were dressed as exquisite male and female servants, and their clothing clearly wasn't cheap, from which it was easy to guess that this Tech-Priest must have been born in the affluent Upper Hive and made the choice to serve the machine god.
He spread his arms, and the Servitors meticulously removed his clothing, their movements gentle and fluid, completely unlike the clumsy Servitors he had seen before.
"As a Tech-Priest, you seem quite unique, madam."
She turned her head smoothly, with a slight mechanical quality, and tilted her head slightly, smiling at Horatio as if she had seen through his confusion.
"I like that address; it's been a long time since anyone called me that."
The red-robed woman smiled even more brightly, her sole remaining natural eye narrowing into a slit:
"Even though I am a Tech-Priest, the way of etiquette still permeates my heart. I treat all individuals equally in terms of manners.
The great work of serving the machine god does not conflict with a lady's life. The holy and wise omnissiah encompasses all things; it also favors those who seamlessly synchronize the two, like meshing gears."
Looking at her overly warm and friendly smile, and then recalling the intelligent biological specimens she had personally created, Horatio felt a sense of dread instead.
—Simple people cannot become qualified Tech-Priest; they will only become Servitors.
"Please lie down; the surgery is about to begin."
The Goddess Priest eagerly caressed Horatio's iron hand.