Endless void, Burke felt like he was in an emptiness, everything around him was silent. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

Suddenly, the light tore through the darkness, and Burke opened his eyes.

A pair of expressionless red eyes were staring at him.

"Ahem!" Burke coughed violently, and his lungs, which had not fully recovered, became more painful.

"If I were you, Remnant of Darkness, I'd lie down. Your physical condition is not good, although your physical fitness is several grades better than that of ordinary Imperials, but the damage you have suffered before is basically at the level of death. The owner of the pair of eyes said this, and Burke was finally able to make out the appearance of the man who spoke.

It was a rather beautiful woman, with bright red eyes like rubies, long black shawl hair, and beautiful features, perfectly — or rather, unnaturally — in combination. Although the appearance is very pleasing to the eye, the lady in front of her does not feel gentle at all, rather, her expression and gaze can only make people think of cold steel. Her dress and tone accentuate this image. The pitch-black hooded cape covered her body, and the same jet-black metal armor under the cloak could be faintly seen, a large mechanical device attached to her behind her, several pairs of mechanical prosthetics around her head, and in her hand held a large axe-shaped long, long-handled knife with a silver-blue glow.

Burke glanced around, two tall cyborg soldiers were guarding the perimeter with sparkling spears, and farther out, Burke could sweep several other similar figures.

There is no doubt that she is not an agent of the Federation, so it is obvious who this person is.

"Cult of the Mechanics." Burke said hoarsely, his fatigue making it extremely difficult for him to utter even these words.

"Good observation." The female mechanical priest said, her tone still unchanged, "Well, a lot of things are easy to say. ”

The Cult of the Mechanics, Burke knew about this organization, or rather, as long as he knew a little about the Empire, it was impossible not to know about them.

Although shrouded in layers of religious cloak, the conclusions of this sect have been pointed to a common end under the treatment of the federal analysis department.

A super-large official monopoly oligarchy with a never-ending quest for knowledge and technology, the Empire's only formal scientific research department and provider of Imperial material production.

It would not be an exaggeration to call it the foundation of the empire's existence.

But this makes no sense for the situation at hand.

"You should know, Mechanic priest, you won't be able to activate all of my personal belongings unless I unlock them on my own initiative. As for myself, even if I don't want to, the dozens of square meters around me will be burned by the plasma, and we will all die together. ”

"Really?" The Mechanical Priest still looked at Burke like this, his gaze unchanged, "I'm indeed interested in the secrets of technology on you, Dark Remnant, but I'm here for something more important, and not so long ago, I pulled you back from the line of death, and it's not free, I guess you can understand it, right?" ”

“…… What do you want? ”

"You like fair trade, right? So, let me ask you a question first. The priest leaned his face to Burke, "You did that empty ruin?" ”

"It's me," Burke replied, and there was no need for him to shy away from such a question.

"Well, I'll get you well, and you need to do me a small favor, and find something for me in the way you're good at it. That's fair to you, isn't it? ”

Unexpected proposals, or, rather, Burke's knowledge of the Imperials, whose spirit of contract was so bad that they would not negotiate with force as long as they could use force.

But now, this mechanical priest has put forward such a condition with the absolute advantage of the scene, and even on the surface, it seems that he is the one who benefits.

This is very abnormal, and the abnormality represents trouble and danger.

For a moment, Burke's mind went through countless thoughts, but in the end, Burke realized that he didn't actually have a choice, if he couldn't recover, then, he probably wouldn't even survive today.

"I agree."

"Well, you guys do like fair trade, don't you? I'm Tia, Father Mechanic. The goddess said this, waving her hand to signal the two robots to come over with something on their shoulders.

"Burke, private detective."

"It's not a good joke, Mr. Detective, but if that's what you call yourself, then I'll do as you please, and now, start the second course of treatment, and take care of the necessary pain."

As soon as she finished speaking, the robot reached out a robotic arm and injected a tube of potion into Burke's body.

The pain was intense, and Burke immediately curled up in a ball until he lost consciousness again.

Knowledge is power. If you want to know the secrets of the sea of stars, the power is better than guessing.

The Legion of Cathars crosses the galaxy to victory. The air crackled at the muzzles of their cannons, ozone and smoke fused together, and the smell of burnt meat permeated the air. Each salvo consumes enough energy to last a chunk of the Nest Capital for years, but it's worth the weight for the Grand Commander of the Cathars. For each enemy killed, and each additional wounded, the Mechanics improved by one more point.

In the eyes of ordinary people, cathars are born warriors. They were proud of their sacred cause, proud of the power of the gods of all machines, and it was Omnisiah who drove them to strive for greater feats. The crosshair and gauge found the target with surprising accuracy, the rifle roared, and the servant projectile found the head of the enemy. Radiation weapons that carry the power of the martyrs unleash billowing toxins into the battlefield until it turns into a filthy wasteland like a red planet. The Troopers are a guarantee of victory, a symbol of discipline, and it is defying all threats – whether in the face of adversity, corruption, or force. They fought with a strong faith, knowing that the mechanical gods were watching over them at all times, and that the enemy had been revealed to be true and flawed.

The cathars waved their titanium limbs and walked through the galaxy's war zone, looking at it from a bird's-eye view like Mars? Rust-colored ant colonies in the hills. Their boundless devotion to the Robot God and his spokesman, the Machine God, inspired them to practice day and night. To meditate on charism is to rest. Even when they engage in battle, their rhythm is the same. With a faint shudder, the cathar received the necessary combat teachings from the techno-priests on the track. The Riff Carbins pressed their shoulders together, and the bloody war was opened by Sri Lanka.

At first, the enemy will think that victory is within reach. Who are these former mortals, these mechanical warriors who sacrificed their humanity to the Altar of Cold Iron? Advancing in formation, then strangled by a hail of bullets, do they expect to win? The answer has been revealed for a long time, but it is terrifying. Even if the millions of cathars are wiped out, the Mechanics will not hesitate, because the enemy has exposed their secrets to the eyes of knowledge when they slaughter them. The Guardian Brigade went forward one after another, and the more they fought, the more courageous they became. When the calculation is completed, the simulation is carried out again; Where the enemy may be garrisoned, there are cathars to take countermeasures and deploy them thoroughly. The plea to surrender was of no benefit to the Mechanics, so the Dark Scientists turned a deaf ear. As a result, the death toll has risen.

Listen to mechanism, the era of mechanism is coming. (To be continued.) )