Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 225: As soon as you say "Tweet", it seems like it will turn into a scary universe of stuffed dumplings.

The "Hall of Conquest" mobile fortress owned by the Rakuan clan is very ancient.

Its fiery core reactor and lowermost chassis are made of a material that no one understands in detail, and according to the earliest records the Iron Hands can find, their creation dates back to the days when the Primarch still walked Medusa. The age of the earth.

In the long years that followed, layers of cabins, walkways, cables, and more firepower platforms and defense devices were added to it, leaving behind generations of Iron Fathers, Tech Sergeants, and Tech Priests. Their own unique structure. Due to the power of the core reactor, many of their ideas can be realized through the redistribution of energy output, but this also makes various drawings and architectural plans almost all added or subtracted out of pure rationality and practicality. , ignoring any other non-essential work that is inefficient.

Therefore, in this era, no one really knows how to maintain its too old reactor, and no one can really understand whether the loud roaring sound of the machine soul every time it is awakened or exerts force is due to the desire to fight, the fanaticism of destruction, or the fanaticism of destruction. Groan of pain.

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, I can never say that they are not well maintained, but because of this, it cannot be said that they are well maintained.

It is not surprising that the ancient machine spirit has become more and more violent and unpredictable. Everyone has become accustomed to this and rarely awakens it completely.

But today...

Markan Feros stepped thoughtfully onto the bridge, and the brother responsible for piloting it turned around. They exchanged opinions with each other in a millisecond: Yes, it was not a data error, it was Raku. The core machine soul of the Hall of An's Conquest is indeed in a very good mood today. It is the best that Feros has ever felt since he first boarded this great mechanical relic.

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 wearing black armor and having iron hands on their shoulders. of Astartes.

"I will take someone over to see what the situation is." Feros replied briefly, although he already had some possible calculations.

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.

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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.

"At the same time," the Iron Hand Astartes, who was monitoring the driving servitor, sent another message to the Iron Father, "The bridge panel shows that the reactor output of the 'Hall of Conquest' has recovered from its original 42%. It reached 88%. About twenty minutes after that, the left lower cabin that was originally unusable due to an unexplained malfunction was restoring power, and the airtight doors that were originally stuck began to open one by one.—— But we couldn't see who was moving in the middle, and someone was going deeper using a maintenance line that we never found, so no sensors were placed there."

They exchanged pulse signals again.

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 He wanted to remind his owner that someone was coming, because Garuda immediately closed his mouth tightly and squatted there again, pretending that he was just a decorative bird.

But this little time was enough for Feros to ask the question in surprise, "What...are you doing here? Elder Wieland."

"Ah. Feros, what are you doing here? I just can't bear it any longer. I'm so sorry for the fact that no one is here to take care of it." Contemptor Fearless said in a similar way to the Holy Father of Steel. The light and smooth movements of a real person are incomparable to any model of Dauntless or existence of this size that he has seen before. He straightened up. Malkan even suspected that his next action was to stretch his limbs gracefully. Thank God, he did not.

"As you can see, I'm doing some repairs and cleaning to make it more in line with what it should be, um, complete... complete."

"Complete?" The Iron Father threw the word into his own computing chip and chewed on the extra thinking circuit. "Are you saying that there is something missing here?"

"Ah, no, no, I mean, it's full of wear-and-tear damage—accidental little breaks—accidental mistakes—deficiencies of that nature, you see? I'm correcting and repairing them so that This place has become... more pleasing to the eye again."

Fearless waved his arms, and Feros suddenly realized that the pair of palms of "Wilander" Fearless at this time were not the long-range and melee weapons they first saw, but a pair of very exquisite, yet to be painted, relic-level power palms. , this power hand that completely imitates the number and structure of human fingers allows 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 with handles that fit the huge size of Dauntless?
"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, "Wilander" pointed not far away It was in a niche that had not yet been opened and had been marked with purity seals and wax-sealed holy oils for hundreds of years or more. "I noticed when I first came here that maintenance tool boxes should have been pre-placed everywhere when it was built. But why do you leave all these tool boxes and cabinets and the contents there completely unused? It’s not like you are enshrining all these ordinary tools.”

Feros's 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 that was enshrined, and the sacred objects and tools inside needed to be treated under strict rituals and blessings. The holy ones were taken out and wiped carefully before being put back. Although no one knows why this is done, 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 possibility of the bottom tank. A sacred offering or talisman of darkness appears.

Feros had a headache. Due to confidentiality reasons, most warriors were still only informed of Wilander’s identity in files and Feros’s personal respect for him. However, in private, the Iron Hands were a very technological tribe and were adept at martial arts. customary -

Sure enough, a warrior strode out of the ranks, claiming that this was an extremely disrespectful act towards the ancient sacred relics of the Lacuan clan. Sobek Wieland, as a polite guest of Lacuan, met in the Hall of Conquest of Lacuan. What he did above was worthy of a duel challenge.

what.

This.

Fortunately, before Feros's auxiliary cogitator chip, which was running at high speed in order to come up with smooth words at that moment, overheated and burned out, the duel ended immediately before it began.

The Astartes, demanding a duel, fell to their knees with 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 holds Wuwei and extending to Wuwei's fingertips. The silver metal glows with a low-key luster. With the sparkling like a dark lake under the moon, Wuwei's palms are like It was 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)