Warhammer 40,000: Echoes of Divinity

Deep Within the Fortress – Midnight

Far beneath the surface of New Kato, in the deepest sanctum of the fortress, in a subterranean chamber, Qin Mo worked tirelessly.

For days, he had not rested.

His chamber was lit only by the glow of cogitator screens and the intermittent flare of reallty warping sparks as he tested his latest invention—a dimensional transmission device.

The prototype was assembled.

Now came the refinement.

As he reached for a set of finely-calibrated instruments, a bell echoed through the chamber.

"Enter."

The heavy blast door hissed open.

Grot stepped in, dragging a man with him.

"Lord, this is the one you asked to see."

At those words, Qin Mo halted his work.

His gaze locked onto the newcomer.

Yoan.

The name surfaced in his memory.

A PDF officer had recently filed a report—a civilian accused of being a heretic infiltrator.

The reasoning?

Every man, woman, and child who laid eyes upon him recoiled with instinctive dread.

A primal revulsion. A divine warning, they believed.

An omen that this man was an enemy hidden among them.

Upon hearing this report, Qin Mo had ordered the man brought before him immediately.

And now, here he was.

...

"I remember you."

Qin Mo narrowed his eyes, his mind piecing together old memorys.

"During the Siege of Kato… you were among those who fought beside me... on the main boulevard, weren't you?"

"Yes!"

Yoan trembled, barely able to contain his excitement.

The Lord remembered him.

A simple soldier, a nothing, a abomination remembered by a god made flesh.

And—just like before—the Lord did not recoil from his presence.

Qin Mo pulled a chair from a nearby workstation, gesturing for Yoan to sit. Then, he dismissed Grot with a wave.

"Leave us."

Grot glared at Yoan, snorting in disdain. "If he tries anything, just say one word. I'll come in and rip him apart."

"Relax. He's perfectly safe." Qin Mo reassured him.

Once Grot had left and sealed the door, Qin Mo's expression hardened.

"Tell me, Yoan—does everyone despise you?"

"Yes." Yoan's voice wavered. "Everyone… except for you, my Lord."

Qin Mo suddenly laughed.

Not a mocking laugh—

A deep, genuine laugh.

It left Yoan utterly bewildered.

Because Qin Mo had just found something invaluable.

Yoan was a Pariah.

A soulless one.

A blank. An untouchable. The Exempt.

The Imperium feared them.

The Warp loathed them.

Even the High Lords of Terra had once debated whether they should be purged from existence entirely.

And now, one had walked straight into his hands.

"I didn't expect this," Qin Mo mused, grinning.

"I assumed the people shunned you because you had committed something terrible. That you had some wretched sin staining your name."

His fingers tapped against the cold metal of the workstation.

"But no—

You're an Untouchable."

Thinking back to the Siege of Kato, Qin Mo realized—he had felt nothing unusual when standing near Yoan.

No unease. No repulsion. No gnawing dread that the soulless ones inspired in all who possessed a soul.

Even now, he remained completely unaffected.

Interesting.

Yoan swallowed. His voice was hesitant.

"God… what am I?"

"Your physiology is unique."

Qin Mo paused.

Then frowned.

"Wait—what did you just call me? A god?"

....

Yoan explained everything.

The Devotees. Their doctrine. Their faith.

Their worship of "servitors". Their discipline of emotional suppression.

Their faith in him.

For the first time in a long while, Qin Mo felt genuinely speechless.

He had anticipated that, at some point, someone would deify him.

But to actually hear it…

Even for him, it was a shock.

"Your faith is meaningless."

Qin Mo's tone was firm.

"I do not require worship. I do not need believers. Abandon this nonsense immediately."

His hand reached for a nearby vox-caster, activating a direct command channel.

"Grey. Take a squad to the South District Tavern. Monitor every single person inside."

"Why?" Yoan asked, confused.

Qin Mo considered explaining—but decided against it.

Not because of their loyalty, but because their minds were already warped.

The Devotees were dangerous. They modeled themselves after "servitors", striving to become cold, emotionless machines.

They had become less than men, more than zealots.

How many of them truly suppressed their emotions?

And how many merely believed they did?

If they insisted on faith, they should worship the Emperor.

At least then, their souls would find sanctuary within the Golden Throne.

Qin Mo?

He could offer them nothing.

"Tell me about yourself."

If Yoan was to be of use, Qin Mo needed to understand him first.

....

Yoan spoke of his life.

He had only one family member.

His wife.

Both were orphans, abandoned in the Underhive, struggling to survive together.

They had no one else.

And most importantly—

She was an Untouchable too.

Qin Mo's smile widened.

"Do you know of any others like you?"

"None."

Qin Mo nodded.

"You two are exceedingly rare. In this entire Hive, you might be the only ones."

Yoan hesitated.

"Why does everyone find us repulsive?"

Qin Mo leaned back, arms crossed.

"That's a long story. I could explain it scientifically—starting from the birth of the cosmos…

But ultimately, none of that matters."

His gaze bored into Yoan's soul.

"All you need to know is this—you are special. And to me, you are important."

The words struck Yoan like a hammer.

A turning point.

He felt, with absolute certainty—his life was about to change forever.

....

"Go home for now," Qin Mo ordered, standing.

"Tomorrow morning, I will send for you and your wife. You will both be brought to the fortress."

He stepped toward the chamber doors, then turned back.

"You have been chosen."

Yoan trembled.

"Can I… can I become your Emissary?"

Qin Mo smiled.

"More than just my Emissary.

Your role will far exceed anything you can imagine."

Because Qin Mo already knew.

Yoan would never be a leader—no army would follow a man they found repulsive.

But a living nightmare on the battlefield?

That, he could be.

A walking extinction event—clad in the finest armor, wielding weapons beyond mortal reckoning.

A warrior who could bring ruin to his enemies—

And never fear corruption.

For he was soulless.

Even if he screamed the names of the Ruinous Powers.

They would not hear him.

His Culexian Assassin.

....

Yoan trembled, his eyes wide with joy and devotion.

"I… I…"

"I don't know if this is a dream or reality… but I swear upon my life—I will give you everything. If you ask for my heart, I will carve it from my chest!"

Qin Mo chuckled, placing a hand on Yoan's shoulder.

"No need for that."

He turned to Grot, who had been waiting outside.

"Put him on a transport. Take him home. In the morning, bring him and his wife here."

Grot grimaced.

Though he detested Yoan, he did not question the Lord's command.

"By your will."