Novella: Brightest Sons

== Chapter 1: Formalities ==
The gentle aroma of europan kiln oils waft through the diffuser ports that slot silently in the corners of my chamber, mingling with the soothing scent of lavender-laced luna wax, enveloping my senses and relieving the stress that lingers in my mind while I rest upon my Data-Throne. I open my eyes to an image of white stone encapsulating silver, the marble surfaces, adorned with engravings of grandeur and glory, shields the silent machines of data and code hidden behind a face of glass, standing as sentinels, ever dormant. 
I huff a deep sigh modulated deeply by respiratory augments as my metallic talons explore the tactile details of the ivory designs, relaying sensory feedback to my consciousness. With a touch, I bestow reverence upon the Lesser-Spirits dwelling within the Data-Ports, my prayers hastening their tasks as I venerate their presence. And when the ritual is complete, my chrome fingers find their place, clicking upon an activation Rune.
'Duum-tink.' The awakening hum of the Data-Screen resonates, its azure glow casting light upon my chamber. I trace my fingers along the protective marble casing, offering solace to the humble spirit of the machine, murmuring a prayer of reverence without expectation.
I sift through the scripts, locating my duties, and with a tap of the rune icon, I input my restriction codes.
'Click, click, click.' The rhythmic sounds reverberate within my mind. Sitting upright in my throne, I lean over the sleek screens of polished Data-Slates, catching a whiff of isopropyl washes. 'I must remember to commend the serfs for their diligent work when I see them next,' I muse as I navigate through the scripts.
'Click, click, click.' Texts clamor silently, their notifications akin to the cries of newborns yearning for their mothers' attention.
'Click, click, click.' Swiftly, I maneuver through reports and information scripts, my fingers dancing upon the interface keys with blazing speed.
'Click, click, click.' Battle strategies, logistical arrangements, assault plans — The scripts flow incessantly, an unending torrent of data.
'Click, click, click, vrum-clink!' Something seizes my attention. Something new stirs my curiosity.
Without delay, I open the newly assigned Data-script, promptly discarding the inconsequential. 'Most Regal Precept this, honored Data-Clerk of the First Sons that.'
Mere formalities.
How I despise formalities.
I disregard the trivial, I tune out the dispensable. 'Emperor.' 'First of His Sons.'
That. That is something I cannot overlook.
Reprimanding my own foolishness, I click through interfaces, eagerly consuming the message.
By the masterworks.
He has discovered one.
I rise, my azure robes momentarily snagging on the edge of my Data-Throne, my annoyance disregarded. As the information is registered over and over in my mind.
The doors to my chambers part ways as my thoughts set the mental-link wired into the actuators into motion seamlessly. And in an instant, I am out of the room, my metallic feet echoing upon the sacred floors of the throne ship, my augmented limbs propelling me towards my destination.
Others follow outside of their quarters as they clamor, their voices brimming with anticipation. They too have heard the news, 'A Data Breach?' I think. No matter, I simply must inform Legion Master.
'One of the lost..' They whisper.
'Child of his Holiness...' They exclaim.
'First among the lost Lights to be found!' They declare.
I attempt to steady my nerves as my cold-heart quickens at the growing clamor around me, but even with my augmentations, I falter. The excitement is overwhelming as my cybernetic limbs quiver as I enter the Ascendicator and type along the activation runes, an exultation beyond measure as the gravity sink rises. As the sleek capsule of the Ascendicator propels upward, a surge of weightlessness washes over me. The sensation of ascending does nothing to slow my heart. A subtle flutter in the pit of my stomach accompanies the upward journey. 
The air around me seems to shift as my thoughts race, carrying a faint hum and the soft vibration of the Ascendicator's propulsion system only to be punctuated by my memories of the message. With each floor I pass, a sense of anticipation builds, like climbing the steps towards an unknown destination. One of the lost Luminarchs has been discovered. First of the Lost Lords.
The Ascendicator swiftly ascends, carrying me along my path, a surge of momentum propels me forward within the space of its marbled silver confines. The hum of the machinery resonates in the background, a constant reminder of the controlled movement. Suddenly, with an abrupt halt, the familiar forces that propelled you forward cease, leaving you suspended in mid-air for an infinitesimal moment. Your body reacts, instinctively bracing for the unexpected change, as if time itself has momentarily frozen. The sensation of weightlessness washes over you, briefly disconnecting you from the pull of gravity. A jolt reverberates through the elevator, transmitting a vibration that reverberates through your bones, a reminder of the immense forces at play. Your heart skips a beat, as adrenaline surges through your veins, awakening your senses to the unexpected disruption. The sudden stop creates an atmosphere of uncertainty, a brief pause that holds both a hint of anxiety and curiosity, as you await the resumption of the elevator's intended motion or the arrival of assistance.