The first rain of spring has finally arrived, perhaps because it has been accumulated for too long, and the condensation beads in the sky will have a very frightening sound.

Dozing off on a soft meadow, Mosilaire didn't hate the rain, probably because she was justifiably putting aside her half-ploughed fields and other tasks in such gloomy weather.

The dripping raindrops formed many clear bright lines on the eaves, and the gray light penetrated and passed through the lazy color of some droplets.

Ticking and ticking washes away the lonely buildings that stand on the plain, the old bulletproof glass and the floating soil on the walls, and the new plants also show new vitality and vitality from the inside because of their tender caresse.

The pure rain finally dissolves the mottled blood stains that could not be washed in the clearing, and the foul stench will be dissipated in the smell of fresh grass and earth. It's really quiet here.

Mosilaire slept almost groggily until noon. She woke up later, but only shared the hard-won peace with Winnie and Little Peanut, who were snuggled up to her.

There was no longer the slightest sound of zombies muttering on the empty plain, and the only thing that flowed from the barn was heat, light, rain, and rumbling thunder in the distance. But the thunder didn't hurt them, for they were surrounded by heavy stone walls.

All disasters will be kept out of the repaired two-meter-high protective wall, like those who walk in corruption and darkness to revive the dead.

It would be nice if the endless time could stop at this soft moment. So that she could be at peace forever with the shrunken little peanut and Winnie.

Unfortunately, the entropy increase does not stop, and the torrential rain on the plains also tends to get heavier and heavier.

Mosilaire's technique at repairing the roof was so poor that the hastily nailed gaps allowed droplets of water to leak through imperceptible gaps into the warm barn.

They would all end up being caught by Mosilaire with extra pots and pans, and Ding Ling smashed empty crisp notes into the sunken vessel.

The notes vary in height and height, and although they are not carefully groomed, they are chaotic but have a natural beauty.

But there was sadness on Winnie's brow, who was sitting on the mat in a daze, and she thought of her companions again.

Lunch was a bit dull that day.

Mosilaire knew Winnie had something on her mind, even though she was only a half-grown child. Mosilaire did not speak, but quietly stayed by her side, admiring the melancholy atmosphere created by the occasional heavy rain.

Standing at the doorway of the base, Winnie later asked her some unexplained questions, and Mosilaire behind her didn't know how to answer, so Winnie looked up to see the time-stained automatic machine gun turret hidden above their heads.

The machine-gun turret that guarded them in the crowd of corpses showed off its body as it was dark, and because it was contaminated with a little moisture, it had an extremely strong metallic luster that flickered silently in the cold weather.

Mosilaire touched Winnie's head one last time, and then made a promise she hadn't dared to promise before.

She said that she would save them from the boundless sea of suffering and follow the stars to always be with the light.

Then the clouds opened and suddenly opened up. The golden light would still flow out like silk cloth from behind the dissipating rain clouds, and the mist raised over the distant mountains would only be lovelier than the mild milk.

So Mosilaire's hand was held tightly by Winnie, and in the warm palm there was an important trust coming through.

After a few more days, the sweet potato seedlings planted in the cultivation box in the base have grown to three or four centimeters tall under Winnie's careful care, and the seeds in the planting area outside the base have not yet germinated because they were planted a few days late, but it is expected that in a few days there will be more young, green sprouts poking out of the soil with cute little heads - these precious seedlings will provide them with important food in a few months.

However, as time goes by, the number of zombies around the base has gradually increased, so it is a very stupid and unwise choice to choose to go out at this time, so Mosilaire plans to repair more generators and equipment in the next period of time - there are many facilities and equipment in the base that will be very useful for future development, and if they can be repaired as soon as possible, it can greatly improve the security and production level of the colony

Right now, for example, Mosilaire is restoring the standard charged rifle charging station in the security room — it's a wonderful feeling to find something with a touch of empire in an abandoned colony on an isolated planet — a bit like if you immigrated to an alien planet thousands of light-years away with your pass, only to eat familiar and millennia-old hometown dishes in a famous, modern restaurant.

Because the most delicate interface was lavishly gilded with a layer of gold, leaving it virtually untouched by any rust or oxidation, it took Mosilair only a few hours to fiddle with it - the only reason why only the charging station in the security room was the most well-preserved, Mosilele guessed was because the foolish marauders who had arrived had neither a charged rifle that could be used to charge it, nor how expensive the charging station looked like an iron pillar was.

On some of the more backward fringe planets, the value of a charged rifle charging station is usually equivalent to that of a charged rifle, and a charged rifle can be exchanged for four or more young and strong slaves - of course, there are some ill-intentioned fellows who will ask for a few female slaves.

After Mosilair nervously placed the charged rifle on the charging pile, a gentle green circle of light flashed and rippled from the slender butt of the charged rifle - this indicates that the charged rifle is charging normally, which is really great!

Because the time to repair the charging pile was less than Mosilele had anticipated - she had been prepared to spend two or several days repairing this complex machine with a sophisticated structure, anti-counterfeiting, identification and other functions, and even she was mentally prepared to temporarily fail to repair the charging pile in the absence of materials.

This is also an important reason why she is only now looking at the charging pile.

But considering that a lot of time saved is a good thing from any point of view, Mosilaire didn't pay much attention to it except for some remorse, but simply tidied up the security room and opened the weapon control panel again, and began to officially browse and check some of the fixed turrets and defense systems in the organization.

But Mosilele's brows quickly furrowed, and she looked through some previous materials and records, but the doubts and shocks in her heart grew bigger and bigger—this was the first time she had a positive and intuitive feeling of how crazy and unreasonable the former leader of this base was!

Densely buried beneath the now dilapidated and depressed base are all sorts of huge, advanced fixed turrets of great power, capable of converting hundreds of trillion units of electricity into massive firepower within milliseconds of aiming, enough to instantly heat and melt several large fleets of cold mechanical armies into iron slurry or shatter into slag!

Mosilaire never thought that there would be such a madman in the world, and he would actually build a colonial base into a fortified fortress with strong defenses and layers of armament, could it be that this base was built from the beginning to resist world-destroying disasters? Where did the former colonists go here? And what kind of strange reason will take the initiative to abandon this huge military base with complete equipment and impregnable fortification?

The flickering light on the display illuminated Mosilare's bewildered face—mysteries filled her little brain, and she couldn't figure out what kind of secrets and dangers lurked on this planet to give birth to such a twisted, terrifying fortress of war—if one day Mosilaire could repair the layers of railguns, storm coils, and massive capacitance/stance shields, and provide them with enough energy, Mosilaire felt that the fortress was likely to be the only hope for the savage planet to resist the attack of the supermassive mechanical legion head-on.

Although the resistance from afar was fierce and the stalemate lasted far longer than Mosilaire expected, she was still pessimistic about the resistance war, as the resources of a planet are always limited, and the mechanical legions scattered across dozens of star fields can continue to transport more mechanical creations here - which means that they are somewhat infinite.

These ancient AIs existed before the empire was founded, and no one knew who created them, or what their purpose was in selectively slaughtering intelligent organic life - the mechanical legions generally refused to respond to outside interactions, but they often referred to this as "a violent way to effectively maintain balance".

From now on, Mosilaire also needs to prepare for the onslaught of a million steels that she will face one day, and this silent, beast-like base on this plain will be her greatest support.

Even though almost all of the base's defenses were now in a state of desperation, with the exception of an auto-gun battery with few bullets left, Mosilere felt that one day she would fix them all - if she didn't have a little unrealistic dreams and ambitions, what difference would she have from the stinky, unloved little salted fish?

However, after a cursory examination, Mosilaire confirmed that these advanced, formidable weapons would be in the shadows for some more time — and not too soon.

She didn't know anything about the construction and principles of most of the advanced turrets, and she lacked many of the important high-precision parts needed for repair.

Even if Mosilaire had access to detailed documentation on weapon principles, research materials, and blueprints, and had the patience to read and understand several complex documents that might have been stacked up to her height, she would have to repair the various electronically controlled processing equipment that had been dismantled in the workshop to make these top-notch components—not to mention the lack of scarce materials for high-end weapons, components, and armor on the base—perhaps, But they were all carried away in bags by travelers and looters.

It seems that Mosilaire needs to rack his brains to get some good steel, fiberglass, uranium and gold.

Unfortunately, Mosiliel didn't find any detailed technology blueprints from the weapon console.