Inside the virtual creation space, Medici floated in boundless darkness, before him a flowing river of data stars.
He didn't rush into modeling, instead sinking into deep contemplation.
The Tival campaign from the preliminaries had been more of a core gameplay demonstration and technical proof of concept, a straightforward suppression war. But if he truly wanted to establish *Battlefield: Warhammer 40k* as a lasting IP, that alone wouldn't cut it.
Players needed richer environments. More than that, they needed to understand the logic and story behind the war. A war couldn't just start out of nowhere, nor could it end without reason.
Beyond that, one of the great appeals of the Warhammer universe lay in the sheer scale of its conflicts.
A true soldier wasn't merely cannon fodder dying on the front lines; they might be a sergeant commanding dozens, even hundreds, of troops.
It was time to introduce more complex command hierarchies, letting players experience leading squads and coordinating larger-scale operations.
His thoughts gradually crystallized, a sharp gleam flashing through his eyes.
"Cortana," he called to his assistant AI. "Build a new planetary environment."
"Command confirmed. Please describe the planet type and characteristics."
"This is a massive hive world." Medici's voice echoed through the space, carrying the gravity of someone painting an epic.
"Hive worlds are the concentrated embodiment of the dark, gothic sci-fi aesthetic of the human Imperium in the Warhammer 40K universe.
They are planet-sized, vertically developed mega-cities, the perfect symbol of the Imperium's bloated, decayed, and brutal rule."
As he spoke, the darkness before him began to recede. A rust-stained planet, seemingly composed of endless layers of metal and concrete, slowly rotated into view.
Its surface bore no natural mountains or rivers, only countless colossal structures rising like metallic peaks: the hives.
These towering spires reached into the clouds, stacked layer upon layer. Their bases were shrouded in eternal industrial smog and toxic fumes, their midsections packed with densely clustered residential blocks and factories like honeycombs, while their peaks glittered with the lights of the privileged and the rulers, lonely, desperate beacons in the dark void of space.
The entire planet exuded an oppressive, decayed, yet magnificently desolate industrial wasteland atmosphere.
"Now, advance the timeline," Medici commanded. "This hive world has been abandoned."
The scene shifted instantly.
The lights that once burned through the night went dark in vast swaths, like dying stars.
The industrial exhaust plumes that had continuously billowed upward vanished, replaced by an unsettling, deathly silence.
The hive surfaces were covered in thick layers of rust and dust, many structures showing unnatural twists and damage, as if ravaged by some tremendous force.
The entire planet looked like a steel corpse drifting through the cosmos.
"Pull the view back. Shift to outer space."
The camera shot upward rapidly, piercing through the thin atmosphere into the cold void.
In orbit not far from the planet, a massive fleet maintained silent approach.
This fleet's design was starkly different from the clean, imposing style of the Imperial Navy seen before.
These ships were more ancient, more bizarre, their hulls covered in thick conduits, exposed mechanical structures, glowing runes, and enormous gear decorations.
Most striking of all, every vessel's armor bore a menacing insignia: a mechanical skull wearing a red ceremonial hood.
"This is the symbol of the Adeptus Mechanicus," Medici explained, his tone carrying a subtle edge. "It derives from one side of the Imperial Aquila, representing the Mechanicus rooted on Mars. This fleet belongs to them."
"The Adeptus Mechanicus," he continued building the lore, his voice low and solemn.
"They don't worship the Emperor. Instead, they venerate what they call the 'Omnissiah,' the Machine God, treating technology as sacred domain.
They harbor an almost fanatical worship and craving for ancient artifacts called STCs (Standard Template Constructs), because those represent the technological pinnacle of humanity's Golden Age."
"This time, they've come to this dead hive world because they received fragmentary intelligence suggesting a precious STC fragment might exist here.
However, according to the Mechanicus's own records, this planet was still paying its Imperial tithes normally just three years ago.
There's no way it could have become such a complete dead zone in such a short time."
A cold smile curved Medici's lips.
"The contradiction in the information signals something wrong. The lure of the STC drives exploration. And the silent planet itself... conceals unknown horrors."