Chapter 225: The terrifying universe that seems to turn into stuffed dumplings as soon as you say tweets
The "Hall of Conquest" mobile fortress owned by the Rakuan clan is very old.
Its fiery core reactor and lowermost chassis are both made of a material that no one understands in detail, and according to the earliest records the Iron Hands can find, their manufacture can be traced back to the Primarch. A time when he was still walking on the land of Medusa.
In the long years that followed, layers of cabins, walkways, cables and more firepower platforms and defense devices were added to it. Generations of Iron Fathers and Technical Sergeants The Tech-Priests left behind their own unique structures. Due to the power of the core reactor, many of their ideas were realized through the redistribution of energy output, but this also made the various drawings and architectural plans almost all based on pure rationality and Increase or decrease based on practicality, ignoring any other non-essential work that is inefficient.
So in this era, no one really knows how to maintain its too old reactor, and no one can really understand that the loud roaring sound every time the machine soul is awakened or exerts force is actually due to combat. Desire, destructive fervor or groans of agony.
What each maintainer can realistically but only do for it is to maintain it carefully and devoutly according to the ancient binary prayers passed down from generation to generation and their own understanding.
To be fair, it can never be said that they are not well maintained, but because of this, it cannot be said that they are well maintained.
As a result, it is not surprising that the ancient machine spirit has become more and more violent and unpredictable. Everyone has become accustomed to this, and fewer people fully awaken it.
But today...
Markan Feros stepped into the bridge thoughtfully, and the brother in charge of driving it turned around, and they exchanged words within a millisecond. They heard each other’s opinions: Yes, it’s not a data error, but the core machine soul of Lakuan’s Hall of Conquest is indeed in a very good mood today. It’s something Feros has never felt since he first boarded this great mechanical relic. It's been good.
Even the speed of the Iron Hands' dedicated electromagnetic signal for communication, which has been shrouding the entire "Hall of Conquest" like a cloud, seems to be much faster.
"At the same time," the Iron Hands Astartes, who was monitoring the driving servitor, sent another message to the Iron Father, "the bridge panel showed that the reactor output of the 'Hall of Conquest' increased from the original hundred Forty-two percent was restored to 88%. About twenty minutes after that, the left lower cabin that was originally unusable due to an unknown failure was restoring power, and the air-tight doors that were originally stuck began to They were opened one by one - but we couldn't see who was moving in the middle, and someone went deeper using a maintenance line that we had never discovered, so no sensors were installed there."
< br>They exchanged pulse signals again.
"I will take someone over to see what the situation is." Feros answered briefly, although he already had some possible calculations.
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An hour later, the heavily armed team members led by the Iron Father found a Holy Contemptor Dreadnought in the lower cabin on the left side, knocking around with tools.
Seeing their arrival, before "Elder Wielander" could say anything, the metal Garuda that had been sitting on his shoulder first looked down majestically at the team of black-clad A. The Astartes with iron hands on their shoulders.
Its silver eyes looked sternly at each Space Marine whose mechanical modifications exceeded what was necessary, and then opened its sharp metal curved beak - and made an extremely delicate "chirp" at the visitors - Feros speculated that it might want to alert its owner that someone was coming, because Garuda immediately closed its mouth tightly and squatted there again, pretending that it was just a decorative bird.
But this little time was enough for Feros to say the question in surprise, "What...are you doing here? Elder Wieland."
"Ah. Feros. "Si, what are you doing here? I just can't bear it anymore. No one is here to take care of it." The Contemptor was fearless in a way that he had never seen before. He straightened up with a real-life light and smooth movement that no fearless or being of this size could match. Malkan even suspected that his next movement was to gracefully stretch his limbs, but thankfully, he didn't.
“As you can see, I’m doing some repairs and cleaning to make it more in line with how it should be, um, completely... complete.”
"Complete?" The Iron Father threw the word into his computing chip and the extra thinking circuit and chewed it back and forth. "Are you saying that there is something missing here?"
"Ah, no, no, I I mean, it's full of wear-and-tear damage—accidental breaks—accidental mistakes—deficiencies of that nature, can you understand? I'm correcting and repairing them to make this place...pleasing to the eye again. Some. "
Fearless waved his arms, and Feros suddenly realized that the hands of "Wilander" were not the long-range and melee weapons they first saw, but a pair of very delicate ones. , a relic-level power hand that has not yet been painted. This power hand completely imitates the number and structure of human fingers, allowing the Contemptor to freely use the tools in his hand. Who made him a temporary replacement? What's going on with these relic power gloves?
——Wait a minute, so where did you find those sets of adamantine tools and instruments whose grips are suitable for the huge size of Dreadnaught?
"Ah, are you talking about these tools? I found one of suitable size at the entrance and took it out for use." Noticing the confusion in his eye that still retained flesh and blood, "Welander "Pointing to an unopened niche not far away that has been affixed with purity seals and wax-sealing holy oils for hundreds of years or more, "I noticed it when I first came here. This place should have been pre-installed when it was built. The maintenance tool box is placed, but why do you leave these tool box cabinets and the contents there completely unused? It is not necessarily that you have enshrined all these ordinary tools."
Feros. His head was buzzing, and he could hear the fierce arguments and anger erupting in the group of warriors behind him: that was indeed a niche being enshrined, and the sacred tools and tools inside needed to be enshrined under strict rituals and consecration. Take them out and wipe them carefully before putting them back. Although no one knows why they do this, the pious rituals from generation to generation have made them considered to be similar to those offered to the Ohm Messiah to suppress the dissatisfaction of the ancient machine soul and the possible darkness in the bottom cabin. a sacred offering or talisman.
Feros has a headache. Due to confidentiality reasons, most of the warriors are still only informed of Wilander’s file identity and Feros’s personal respect for him, but in private, the Iron Hands are A rather technological tribe with martial customs——
Sure enough, a warrior strode out of the ranks, claiming that this was an act of extreme disrespect for the ancient sacred relics of the Lakuan clan. Sobek Wieland as Lacuan's courteous guest, this deed in Lacuan's Hall of Conquest was worthy of a duel challenge.
ah.
This.
Fortunately, the duel ended immediately before it began before Feros's auxiliary thinker chip, which was running at high speed in order to come up with smooth words, overheated and burned out.
The Astartes who called for a duel fell to their knees amid a hoarse cry filled with electronic noise.
"Ah! Iron Hand! Is that you?!"
The Holy Father of Steel looked up and saw a scene that was unforgettable and extremely exciting to him.
Silver.
It is flowing silver, starting from the place where Garuda grasped Wuwei, and extending to Wuwei's fingertips. The silver metal glowed with a low-key luster, flickering like a dark lake under the moon. , the fearless palms seemed to be coated with a layer of moon silver, and then began to change its shape, from a pair of perfectly crafted hands to a weapon that brought destruction.
(End of this chapter)