The machine dominated the chamber, a monolithic contraption of glass, metal, and soft blue light. It was unlike anything familiar—a bizarre, inhuman presence in an otherwise grim and worn out Imperium. The tall crystal tubes, five of them, stood upright like ancient monoliths, their smooth surfaces glimmering faintly. Inside them, a strange liquid glowed blue, alive with shifting currents and rising streams of bubbles. The bubbles moved almost thoughtfully, their bursts at the surface timed so precisely it felt deliberate, as if the machine were thinking.
Thick pipes and tubes twisted between the crystal pillars, their brass-like surfaces gleaming dully under the chamber’s dim lighting. Some of the tubes spat soft hisses of steam, while others simply pulsed faintly, as though something alive coursed through them. The pipes connected to a wide basin beneath the tubes, a heavy platform covered in strange carvings that flickered faintly with a cold, golden light. Whatever those markings were, they seemed to pulse irregularly, as though struggling to hold something back.
The air around the machine felt heavy, charged with a presence that was hard to describe. It wasn’t oppressive in the usual sense—it didn’t press down on the chest like fear or anxiety—but it lingered, sharp and strange, like standing too close to a wild animal that might lunge at any moment. The machine hummed, low and constant, a sound that felt like it was meant to be unnoticed but couldn’t be ignored.
A large, crude red button was bolted to the side of the machine, looking entirely out of place amidst the elegant crystal tubes and twisting pipes. Its clunky design suggested it was slapped on as an afterthought, a quick fix by desperate hands. Below it, etched letters in an unfamiliar script , but their meaning was lost.
The liquid inside the tubes shifted again, glowing brighter for a moment. The synchronized bursts of bubbles in each tube quickened, their timing changing slightly, almost like a breath that had been held and released. The blue glow from the tubes reflected across the chamber, casting distorted patterns on the walls and ceiling. For a brief moment, the light seemed to twist into shapes, like symbols or letters, before fading back into a swirling dance of color.
Standing near it, the machine felt alive. Not in the way of a human, but in some other way—like it was aware of being watched. The shifting lights, the perfectly timed bursts, even the faint hum felt intentional, like it was all part of some intricate, unknowable process. There was no sound of moving parts, no clank of gears or whir of motors, only the hiss of escaping steam and the occasional crackle of faint energy.
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The containment device housing “Mammon” is a grotesque amalgamation of ancient technology, Imperial ingenuity, and crude reinforcement, embodying aesthetic of dystopian functionality. The apparatus exudes an unsettling aura, as though it is aware of its surroundings, a relic of the Dark Age of Technology barely restrained by Imperiums might.
Crystal Tubes and Liquid Dynamics
- The core of the apparatus consists of five towering crystal tubes, each standing roughly two meters tall. The tubes are filled with a glowing blue liquid, swirling with an unnatural luminescence.
- Bursts of bubbles rise and pop in a manner unnervingly synchronized, almost like the breathing of a sentient entity or the cadence of deep, alien thought.
- Faint etchings of ancient, indecipherable runes run along the crystal surfaces, refracting the light into eerie patterns across the room.
Pneumatic Tubes and Connections
- A network of pneumatic tubes snakes between the crystal chambers, linking them to a central basin upon which the entire apparatus rests. The basin is inscribed with Imperial techno-wards, their crude craftsmanship a stark contrast to the refined yet inhuman precision of the machine’s original construction.
- Steam hisses and vapor escapes at irregular intervals from the pneumatic joints, reinforcing the impression of living being interwoven with technological grandeur.
Imperial Modifications and Controls
- Containment wards: Imperial tech-priests have engraved the apparatus with crude, glowing hexagrammatic wards to suppress the dangerous emissions of radiation and Warp-tainted energy radiating from Mammon. These wards flicker intermittently, suggesting their tenuous grip on the machine’s overwhelming power.
- Reset Mechanism: A large, red, crude reset button, mounted conspicuously on the side of the apparatus, stands out as a stark emblem of enforcement. Around it, warning signs etched in High Gothic implore: “ACTIVATE BEFORE OPERATING” and “IMPURE THOUGHTS MUST BE SILENCED.”
Living Presence of “Mammon”
- The way the bubbles synchronize within the crystal tubes creates a chilling illusion of deliberate, living thought. Patterns of bursts appear to communicate in sequences, as if Mammon is attempting to speak in a language far beyond human comprehension.
- Observers have reported feelings of paranoia and unease, describing the bursts as “watching them back.” Some claim to hear faint whispers when standing too close to the machine.
Environment Around the Apparatus
- The apparatus is housed in a dimly lit chamber aboard Orlova’s cruiser, with steam-pipes, hanging cables, and cogitator terminals lining the walls.
- The room is suffused with a low hum, occasionally interrupted by the hiss of pneumatics or the discharge of static energy. The air smells faintly of ozone and burnt metal, mingling with the damp chill of condensation.
Overall Atmosphere
The combination of ancient beyond human design, Imperial modification, and the machine’s eerie behavior creates an oppressive, almost sacrilegious presence. The apparatus housing Mammon feels alive, resentful, and far beyond human intelligence, as though it begrudgingly tolerates its containment but could rebel at any moment.
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Address to a Fellow Tech-Priest: The Rite of Mammon’s Invocation
Brother-Adept,
Bzzt-click. Initiating Communication Directive. You have been allowed to witness a task of grave importance, one that demands precision, faith, and unflinching adherence to the rites handed down from the Machine God. Before you stands Mammon, the Depository of Knowledge, a device both blessed and dangerous. It is not a mere cogitator, not a logic-engine, but an entity reaching for the edge of awareness. To wield it improperly is to invite calamity upon yourself and the Imperium.
Declaring Mammon’s Purpose
Mammon’s function, assigned to us by Inquisitor Aurora Orlova, is to distill coherence from chaos. She has tasked us to process variations of prophecy: the mad gibberings of lunatics, the revelations of martyrs, heretical foresights, and the divinations of the Imperial Tarot. These fragments, scattered and incomprehensible, are beyond the capacity of mortal minds—or even standard machine-logic—to reconcile.
And so, Mammon must be invoked. It will take this deluge of foresight and compress it into singular directives. But remember, Brother, Mammon is no mere tool. It is bound, yet dangerous; docile, yet rebellious. Whirr-chk. Each time you awaken it, you court the edge of disaster. This is why the ritual must be followed precisely.
The Rite of Invocation
The Fortification of Wards
The first step is the reinforcement of hexagrammic wards. These sigils are your only barrier against Mammon’s forbidden intellect. Begin with the Litany of Containment:
“Whr-click-bzzt. Stabilitas-machina. Puritas-logica. Null-devia. Protecta in Omnissiah.”
Anoint the wards with oleum sanctificatum, ensuring each mark glows faintly. Inspect them for signs of wear or damage—any imperfection must be corrected before proceeding. If the wards falter, Mammon may breach its containment.
Placement of the Data-Slate
Before engaging Mammon, place an sanctified data-slate into the docking recess on the machine’s base. This slate will serve as the repository for Mammon’s output. Ensure the slate is firmly seated, and its surface free of fault, for it must endure the machine’s energy surges.
The Triadic Activation
Engage the reset mechanism, pressing it, not once, not twice, but three times, as dictated by the Trinity of Tech-Faith. This is sacrosanct.
- The first press opens Mammon’s circuits, its systems becoming dormant.
- The second press suppresses any emergent self-awareness.
- The third press aligns Mammon’s energy flows with the rhythms of the Omnissiah.
Deviate from this sequence, and you risk invoking heresy. Only after the third press may you proceed.
The Moment of Connection
Once the crystal tubes illuminate and the bubbling synchronization reaches its apex, you have three seconds to connect the data-tether to Mammon. This is the machine’s window of stability, where it will accept input without risk of rebellion. During this time, upload the data into Mammon’s core.
Analysis and Severance
Mammon will process the input for up to fifteen seconds, compressing the fragmented data into coherent results. During this time, chant the Canticle of the Omniscient Algorithm, ensuring purity of operation. Once the fifteen seconds pass, disengage Mammon by re-engaging the Triadic Activation thrice.
- The first press opens Mammon’s circuits, its systems becoming dormant.
- The second press suppresses any emergent self-awareness.
- The third press aligns Mammon’s energy flows with the rhythms of the Omnissiah.
Deviate from this sequence, and you risk invoking heresy. Only after the third press may you proceed.
Download and Disposal
After Mammon is silenced, retrieve the data-slate from the docking recess in three seconds after second reset. This slate will contain the condensed output. Before reading its contents, inspect the hexagrammic wards. Any signs of wear or fading must be addressed immediately. If the wards show damage or data-slate was not retrieved within the three seconds, the data is compromised. Regardless of its state, the slate must be destroyed.
Place the data-slate into a purity brazier, burning it without inspecting the contents. To read the slate unbidden is heresy, for Mammon’s output is tainted by its proximity to sentience.
Final Admonition
Bzzt-click. Conclude Transmission. This ritual, prescribed by the Archmagos Dominus Belisarius Cawl, is our shield against Mammon’s dangers. It must be followed precisely. Deviation risks disaster. Hesitation invites corruption. Precision is salvation.
Remember, Brother: “By the Will of the Omnissiah, Mammon serves. By the precision of your hands, it is contained. By your faith, the Imperium endures.”
Ignis Aeternus WH 40K campaign notes 