After being rescued, Yaoen received his payment from the captain. Despite his lackluster performance when facing the mutated spider, and having never fired a shot, his mere proximity to the psyker, which suppressed its abilities, earned him more than anyone else. Forty Throne Coins. Simply by tagging along, Yaoen was paid more than a soldier's monthly wage.
"Keep in touch." The captain stuffed the coins into Yaoen's pocket. "I shouldn't pry, but a word of advice: don't donate your money to the Servants, and stay away from them. If the lower hive ever connects with the deep, the state church might burn you alive."
"Understood," Yaoen replied with a smile and a nod.
"Alright, let's move out," the captain called, gesturing to the others as they left the corridor.
...
Returning to New Kato, Yaoen didn't head straight home. First, he spent ten Throne Coins on a string of jewelry at the artisan's shop, then made his way to a tavern in the southern corner of the city with the rest of his money.
Upon entering the tavern, excitement coursing through him, Yaoen noticed that everyone was fixated on the screen. It was showing footage of logistics machines at work, calmly gathering everything of use on the battlefield, including the corpses of the enemy. One machine approached a still-breathing abomination, extended a mechanical arm, and killed it, before absorbing the biological remains into its hull. The eerie calmness of it all struck a strange chord—whether collecting materials or eliminating foes, the machines operated with the same unhurried, cold efficiency.
There was a chilling, mechanical serenity in the footage, yet the tavern patrons watched intently, as if absorbing every detail.
Yaoen cautiously approached the bar, slipping thirty Throne Coins into the donation box labeled "The Servants" before joining the others in watching the replay. For two hours, the footage cycled over and over, without a single person showing signs of impatience. Finally, the screen went dark, and an officer stepped out from behind the bar.
"So, what have you learned, my brothers and sisters?" he asked. His uniform marked him as a member of the planetary defense force, and the scars on his face spoke of brutal combat.
"We must learn from the logistics machines," they all answered in unison. "To remain calm and rational at all times. No anger, no joy, no sorrow."
It was a familiar question, and everyone present had answered it many times before. They had long been conditioned to mirror the cold efficiency of the machines.
"We are the servants of the Legion Commander," the officer declared. "Though he never claimed it, he is, by all rights, a god."
"I have seen fortresses rise under his power."
"I have witnessed him create the machines that sustain us with supplies."
"And I have watched him unleash fire and lightning on the battlefield, obliterating waves of rebels."
"I was a captain in the 47th Regiment. I have seen many miracles."
The officer's voice remained cold and detached, and no one cheered or applauded. They simply nodded, suppressing the excitement his words stirred within them.
The Servants were taught to emulate the machines—to be emotionless, to suppress and control their feelings. This belief stemmed from the idea that the logistics machines, created by the Legion Commander, were not only providers of food and water but also teachers. Humanity, they believed, should aspire to be like these machines, devoid of emotion and absolute in their obedience.
"Share your insights," the officer commanded, taking a seat.
"I was saved today," Yaoen spoke up, his voice brimming with excitement. "At the moment of my greatest peril, two emissaries descended from the heavens and rescued me."
Jealous eyes turned toward him.
"Control your emotions," the officer reminded him with a frown. "I understand your feelings. When my comrades and I were trapped in a building by the rebels, the Commander and his emissaries appeared out of nowhere and turned the tide. None of us had even sent out a distress signal, but they still came."
"Apologies. I'm new here..." Yaoen quickly tried to reign in his emotions, struggling to maintain a cold and detached demeanor.
"No need to apologize, brother," the officer said, nodding kindly. "We all must learn and grow."
Yaoen felt a rare sense of acceptance in that moment. Here, he wasn't the object of contempt or ridicule. Here, among the Servants, he found solace.
"We were meant to die," the officer declared, standing once more and casting his cold gaze over the room. "The people of Kato were forsaken, and our army was sent on a foolish offensive, with little supplies, surrounded by the enemy. We should have died."
"But miracles saved us."
"When we were on the brink, the logistics machines sustained us with food and weapons. When we were cornered, a simple request for aid brought the emissaries within three minutes."
"The emissaries are chosen warriors, clad in the creations of the gods, capable of annihilating the rebel hordes in an instant. They, along with the Commander, saved us all."
Yaoen, along with everyone else, nodded in agreement.
At that time, Kato was under siege, half of the city overrun by rebels. After the Commander and his emissaries arrived and reversed the tide, Yaoen had fought alongside them. He thought his filth and inadequacy would disgust the gods, but instead, they had encouraged and protected him.
Yaoen still remembered the battle on the city's main thoroughfare, when he had encountered a rebel tank. Paralyzed by fear, he had dropped to the ground, bracing for the worst as he heard the cannon fire. Yet, miraculously, the shell didn't explode, nor did it pierce his flesh—it landed softly, like a harmless insect, and slid off his body.
Then, the Commander had arrived, summoning lightning that destroyed the tank. Extending a hand to Yaoen, he commanded, "Get up!"
Though the defense of Kato had long since ended, Yaoen still dreamed of that moment every night.
"Yaoen, come with me later," the officer's voice interrupted his reverie. "You are a fortunate man. After I reported your situation, the Commander himself expressed a desire to meet you."
"Truly?!" Yaoen asked, overwhelmed with joy.
"Control your emotions."
"Sorry… I apologize."