Journey To Transhuman: Chapter 14 (Patreon)

We walked the streets of what I assumed was a hive city, and I couldn’t shake the embarrassing feeling that I was wandering around in cosplay. The red robes of the Mechanicus swished around my legs as I moved, and I leaned on a makeshift staff—a metal pipe—I was using as a walking stick.

Silver threads shimmered from my fingers, having shaped themselves into a spear tip with a skull motif before dissolving back into my arm. My metal arm hung in the air out from my robe, deliberately on display. I liked to think I passed for a convincing tech-priest knockoff, at least on surface glance.

Well, I did at least. I flicked a look toward the twins.

Devola carried an old oil lantern, the soft orange flicker casting shadows across her face. She’d wrapped one of my torn-off sleeves around her head like a makeshift shawl.

Popola had gone a different route. A rusted, dented helmet sat crooked on her head, and she held up a massive book she’d found somewhere—thick, heavy, and marked with the Imperium’s symbol. In her other hand, she gripped a tattered banner, the cloth so faded only the faint image of a skull remained.

They both just smiled at me, content with the quiet.

Honestly, the whole thing felt kind of ridiculous now. The original plan had been to pose as Adeptus Mechanicus to bluff our way past any locals if we ran into trouble.

But well…

We’d been circling the area around the door for half an hour, and all we’d seen were endless alleys choked with pipes and half-collapsed houses. Not a soul in sight.

“Any luck finding a way up?” I asked. “Or hell, just a way anywhere?”

This place made a labyrinth look well-planned. Dead ends, winding walkways, random chunks of machinery crammed into every path. There weren’t any signs, no pattern to the streets, not even a hint of where to go. Just the endless mess of grime and claustrophobic chaos.

“No luck,” Devola said, glancing upward. “We might be able to get a better grasp of the layout if we climb, but…”

Her voice trailed off, and I followed her gaze. Above us, tangled metal twisted into a mess of exposed wiring and industrial pipes hissing steam like they were seconds from blowing. Energy seemed to crackle constantly through the framework, and rusted panels groaned as they ground and shifted.

Yeah—fuck that.

“We could try circling out further,” I offered.

“We’d get lost, one hundred percent,” Popola said with a grin.

Devola shot her a flat look and swung the lantern in her direction like she was about to clobber her with it.

“I appreciate your faith in us, Isaac,” Devola said dryly, “but no—I don’t think we’d find the door again if we went any further out.”

“Damn.” The word slipped out as I glanced down another cluttered corridor. I had half a mind to just explore anyway. But I’d promised. Still, couldn’t help feeling like turning back now was just... wasting the trip.

The Mechanicus corpse had been a solid find—gruesome, sure, but valuable. Even broken, the leftover prosthetics were still pieces of hyper-advanced tech, and that alone spoke volumes about what could be salvaged from this place.

I’d been tempted—really tempted—to try grafting a piece onto myself. But the decay, the corrosion, and the fact that a literal ghost might be lurking in that twisted metal frame held me back.

Still, this was an entirely different strain of technological development. Completely foreign in structure, bizarre in philosophy, but potentially invaluable to the androids. Reverse engineering technology from this universe could potentially be a massive leg up for the war against the machine network.

Hell, if we managed to bring back a voidship template, they might be able to win outright.

And yet, it was maddening. The glorious wonders were right there, close enough to touch—but all I could grab was the rot.

I let out a short snort.

Yeah. That probably summed up the 40k universe pretty well.

“I’m not really tech-savvy, but… is there anything we can salvage from the city that might be useful to you guys?” I asked.

“Maybe the generators?” Popola offered. “I’ve seen a few as we walked. If we can break them down, we might figure out how this place used to operate. I mean… I can feel how powerful they were, Isaac. Even half-decayed like this, the energy output is insane. I can only imagine how much it must’ve been at its peak.”

“Better than going back empty-handed,” I muttered, rounding the next corner. “When we get back—”

I froze.

Just ahead, in the middle of a clearing, something was standing. A shadow, tall—easily ten, maybe eleven feet. Hard to make out its figure in the dim light, but its outline was huge, bulky, and filthy. Caked in grime and dust like it had clawed its way out of the earth.

Before I could get a word out, the twins’ blades were already drawn. Devola yanked me backward just as the thing moved.

Then it spoke.

“Oy. You got grubbies?”

Its voice rumbled through the air, deep and resonant.

“Wait.” I stepped in front of the twins and placed a hand on their shoulders. Took a breath and cleared my throat.

“HAIL! CHILD OF THE IMPERIUM,” I shouted, voice ringing through the ruined street. “I COME IN HOLY SERVICE OF HIM—THE GOD EMPEROR HIMSELF! REVEAL THYSELF AND AID ME IN THE EMPEROR’S MISSION!”

For a second, nothing.

Then—“Ohhh! Da Emperor!”

The figure lumbered closer, and I finally got a decent look. A woman. Towering—easily the tallest I’d ever seen. She came right up to us and bowed, clumsy but earnest.

“Oh. An ogryn,” I muttered under my breath.

“A what?” Devola asked, blade still raised, eyes tracking every movement.

“Abhuman race,” I explained quickly. “A branch of humanity that changed, adapted to some extreme environment way back. Ogryns are big, strong, and kind of dumb.”

“That’s really a human?” Popola whispered, voice low, but amazed.

The ogryn was still bowing—clumsy, repetitive, but clearly sincere. It was enough to ease the tension, at least a little. I stepped forward, straightened up, and tried to channel my best booming, holy tone.

“What is your name, oh servant of the Imperium?” I asked, voice as imperial as I could make it.

I was enjoying this a little too much. Popola’s side-eye confirmed it—yeah, not fooling anyone. Still. Focus.

“I’m Wrench!” she beamed. “You smart metal boys? Not mean shooty ones, yeah?”

“Yes. Yes, we are,” I said with a nod. “What are you doing here, Wrench?”

“Lookin’ for grubs! Hungry. No good eats in here. Smelled food 'round this place.”

Popola glanced at me. I nodded.

She pulled out the emergency ration bag we’d brought—just in case—and handed it over to Wrench.

Wrench didn’t waste a second. She tore into it with the kind of enthusiasm that made me feel like we’d handed a feast to a starving animal. Watching her pop open can lids with her bare hands like it was nothing was… impressive, honestly.

She tore through can after can, devouring them in record time. It was like watching a black hole in action.

When the last one was gone, she let out a loud burp and grinned widely.

“Thank ya, shiny metal man!”

“Are you from around here, Wrench?”

“Nuh uh. Came from up top!” she said proudly. “The shooty boys wanted to do bad things, so I came down here!”

“Then do you know how to get out of here?” Popola asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Uhhh… sorry. No, I forgot.” Wrench’s shoulders slumped, expression falling—before she suddenly perked up. “Ah! But I know someone who knows! Tolly! She knows all da secrets! I’ll take you to her!”

“Is she far from here?”

“Nope! Super close! Tolly always close when I go lookin’ for grub!”

I turned to the twins and lowered my voice.

“Should we?” I asked, keeping it between us. “I’ll trust your judgment.”

Devola and Popola glanced at each other, doing that silent communication thing they always did. A moment passed.

Then they both nodded.

“We should be fine,” Devola said carefully. “But if it gets too far or feels wrong, we pull back.”

“Agreed,” I said, then turned back to Wrench. “Lead the way.”