With a wry grin, Nyth turned his sights from Terra's smog-filled skies to the red sands of Mars, the heart of the Mechanicus, where tech-priests worshipped their precious machine spirits and whispered praises to the Omnissiah—the true identity of whom Nyth knew all too well. After all, the so-called Omnissiah was none other than a fragment of his sibling, Mag'ladroth, the Void Dragon. Nyth couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of his vain, overbearing sibling playing the role of god to an entire civilization of tin-plated fanatics.
With a flick of his fingers, he popped into the heart of Mars, specifically into the Holy Forges. The stench of metal and oil was thick in the air as servitors and priests moved with mechanical precision, maintaining their rites, blissfully unaware that their 'Omnissiah's' older, more powerful sibling was watching with mild amusement.
Clanking steps echoed as a tech-priest, draped in crimson robes and weighed down with various mechanical arms and servo-skulls, noticed him. The priest's optic lenses whirred and adjusted, clearly struggling to process the stranger standing in the heart of Mars with a wide-brimmed hat, shimmering duster, and an unmistakable cosmic aura.
"By the Omnissiah," the priest stammered, "who… what are you?"
Nyth tipped his hat. "Just a friendly visitor. Thought I'd drop by and say hi to ol' Mag'ladroth. Heard y'all worship him like he's the biggest fish in the pond." He let out a laugh. "Funny thing, that."
The priest spluttered, his voice taking on a tone of reverent panic. "The Omnissiah… you know… you know the Omnissiah?"
"Know him?" Nyth smirked. "Hell, I'm his older brother. So to speak. If y'all ever saw him without his cage, well… let's just say the Void Dragon wouldn't be much more than a dust bunny compared to what I got goin' on."
Before the priest could react, Nyth took a slow, casual stroll down the forge halls, taking in the sights of servitors mindlessly working, priests praying to machines, and adepts groveling before sacred bolts and ancient wiring as if they were holy relics.
"Y'all treatin' these scraps like holy writ," Nyth muttered, reaching out to pluck a rusty cog from a pile of scrap. With a flash of cosmic energy, he twisted the cog, reshaping it into a sleek, shimmering device—something that looked like a cross between a star map and an engine core, pulsing with a strange, ethereal energy.
He set it down in the middle of the forge floor, stepping back with a grin as it began to hum and vibrate, sending waves of energy spiraling outward. A small group of tech-priests gathered around, lenses and oculars adjusting furiously as they struggled to comprehend the device's function.
"Behold," one whispered reverently, "a… gift… from the Omnissiah?"
"Maybe. Or maybe I just felt like y'all could use somethin' a little more interesting to keep ya busy," Nyth replied, suppressing a laugh. "Consider it a puzzle. Let's see if any of ya can figure out what it does."
The tech-priests buzzed and clanked, frantically analyzing the device with all the zeal of a zealot who'd just seen the Emperor himself. The machine whirred to life, its patterns shifting and evolving, data streams swirling and looping in ways no Mechanicus formula could decipher.
As the priests obsessed over the device, Nyth felt a familiar pulse, deep and powerful, resonating from the heart of Mars—the echo of Mag'ladroth's fractured mind, trapped and straining beneath the surface. Nyth chuckled, crossing his arms and sending a message of his own, his thoughts reverberating with mocking amusement.
"Hey there, Mag'ladroth. How's that 'most powerful of us all' act workin' out for ya?"
He felt the Void Dragon's irritation prick at the edges of his mind, a fragmented voice seething in reply. "Nyth… you dare mock me while I am bound? If I were free…"
"Oh, yeah, I'm quakin' in my boots," Nyth replied with a grin. "Maybe use all that 'mighty power' of yours to pull yourself outta this bind instead of whisperin' spooky nonsense to these fanatics. Or don't—it's real entertainin' watchin' these clowns pray to the gears in your name."
The Void Dragon's fury simmered, but his prison held firm, and Nyth could practically hear his sibling gnashing mental teeth. With a shrug, Nyth let the connection fade, focusing back on the tech-priests scrambling around the device he'd left behind.
"Now y'all enjoy that little gift," he called to the gathered priests, who stared up at him with a mixture of awe, fear, and barely contained reverence. "Reckon it'll keep ya busy for a few centuries."
As he strolled toward the exit, Nyth tipped his hat to the forges of Mars, leaving the priests in stunned silence, still lost in the device's mysteries.