Man in Warhammer, starting Primarch

Ophelia No. 7 Armament Hall

When Dukel walked into the armament hall, the guards on duty immediately saluted upon seeing him.

The sound of gears turning echoed as the heavy metal door slowly opened.

The Armament Hall housed samples of power armor from various legions, as well as weapons and equipment seized from Chaos Demons. Equipment templates from the Golden Age could also be found here, making its collection incredibly rich.

This hall, a blend of advanced technology and religious devotion, featured walls adorned with intricate murals of a distinctly spiritual nature.

The murals depicted the Emperor leading the Primarchs in their grand conquest of the galaxy, fighting against heresy, and expanding the territory of the human empire. Dukel's gaze lingered as he noticed that among the twenty-one Primarchs depicted behind the Emperor, the faces of two were deliberately blurred, as though erased.

There was no doubt that these figures represented him and the Eleventh Primarch, both exiled by the Emperor.

A complex emotion stirred within Dukel as he observed how every trace of his former self had been eradicated. After a brief pause, he turned and continued walking.

The floor of the armament hall, made of a special type of stone, was so smooth it reflected figures with mirror-like clarity. Along the path, power armors were displayed—each belonging to one of the eighteen loyal Primarch legions. Like an honor guard, they seemed to welcome visitors.

From sleek, lightweight power armor to the massive Terminator variants, the hall showcased their grandeur. Dukel paused slightly before a blood-red power armor. It belonged to the Blood Angels Chapter.

Ten thousand years ago, during the Siege of Terra, the Blood Angels and their Primarch, Sanguinius, defended the Emperor with unmatched valor, dedicating their lives to his cause. Sanguinius had led his legion to stand steadfast against Terra's invaders until the Emperor himself intervened to suppress the rebellion.

Before this climactic moment, Sanguinius had faced Horus aboard his flagship, sacrificing himself in a battle that reverberated across the galaxy. Even the Chaos Gods roared in anger at the death of this holy angel.

Sanguinius had foreseen his own death yet embraced it with unwavering courage, ultimately dying at Horus' hands. His noble sacrifice left an indelible mark on the Imperium.

At the far end of the armament hall stood an armament workshop, established specifically for Dukel by the Mechanicus. Two priests, their bodies covered in mechanical modifications, and a servitor awaited him there.

The priests, performing the imperial salute, presented Dukel with his new power armor. Designed by the great sage Gris, it incorporated Golden Age knowledge and refined state-of-the-art technology, making it the most advanced equipment in the empire.

Forging power armor is an intricate process, often taking decades to complete. However, iterations upon existing advanced designs can significantly reduce this time. Dukel removed his antique armor, a relic of ten millennia.

For a warrior, new power armor is akin to a masterpiece, irresistible in its allure. Even the Primarchs were not immune to its appeal. Gris had anticipated Dukel's needs, preparing a model tailored precisely to his physique.

"Your Highness, are you ready?" asked a mechanical priest, his voice emanating from an implanted device in his abdomen. His eyes, replaced with mechanical prosthetics, glinted with an artificial gleam.

"Bring it on," Dukel replied, standing in the designated spot and baring his muscular frame.

The servitor approached, equipping him with a black underlayer designed to interface with his neural signals. This layer enhanced both protection and responsiveness. Piece by piece, the heavy armor was fitted to Dukel, requiring the coordinated effort of mechanical servants and robotic arms.

Even the boots, each weighing hundreds of kilograms, were secured with precision. Dukel tapped the armor's surface, impressed by its resilience; even 30% of his strength—a force greater than military-grade kinetic weapons—left no mark.

When the assembly was complete, the mechanical priests began their prayers.

"Praise Omnissiah, praise the Machine Spirit," they chanted, anointing the armor with sacred oil. Their prayers, believed to invoke the favor of the Machine Spirit, were integral to the Mechanicus' rituals.

As Dukel tested the armor, its features exceeded his expectations. It included a life support system, automatic medical functions, and advanced sensors to detect threats. Despite its weight, the armor felt remarkably light, its electric fiber bundles amplifying his strength and mirroring his movements seamlessly.

Satisfied, Dukel rewarded the great sage Gris by sharing more knowledge from the Golden Age, deepening the Mechanicus' understanding and capabilities.