The scorching earth, covered with asphalt and acid, was once a place full of minerals, and although the Mechanics had modified the atmosphere since they settled, the air here was safe and loyal, but the exhaust fumes from endless excavation made it a hell for creatures.

There is no planetary governor in a foundry world, her owner is generally a mechanical sage, known as the foundry director, and what can be built in this world depends on what he has in mind, but this foundry world does not have very special things, such as some terrible dark age technology.

This casting world is completely used to produce the standard configuration of the Astral Army, that is, carapace armor, hell guns, hydra tanks and other things, compared to many awesome fourth-class tax-free casting worlds, if you have nothing to do, I will rub a battleship and a titan, and the level here is the majority of the empire.

It is commonly known as the Fracture Forge, the standard Mechanistic name of the Church of Mechanics, Alan Bair, and the Gothic name recorded by the Empire is Pan Lan.

This world has a small history, but it still supports the entire Pangia sub-sector large and small, from the transport vehicles used by civilians to the Imperial Guard's Sky Cannon, although it cannot produce Riemanus, but lightweight, such as Kane's favorite Salamander tank, is still handy, and the Sentinel is also one of the main outputs of this world.

It can be said that the empire can do without her, but the Pangia sub-star sector cannot, and now because of the subspace, she is in a fairly independent state after being locked in this star system, and the Mechonism does not recognize the temporary command of the lieutenant general, nor does it need John Denn's food to provide.

The population of this world has at least 30% of the upward mechanical transformation, the demand for energy crystals, promethium, oil is far greater than normal human food, and the starch mass produced by the synthesis of promethium can also meet the needs of slave labor.

Today, at the foot of Alan Bair, the hive city (hive capital) is as dense as an ant's nest and is adjacent to it, and tens of billions of modified humans live there, as well as countless members of the Mechanics.

In other words, it's not a good job to be stationed here, the Mechon's firepower can't be used by the Imperial Guard for no reason, and your nearest supply point, food...

Starch fast.

However, as the elite of the empire, the Imperial Guard must have priority in supply, and with the orcs joining here, the transportation routes have been smoothed, and this star system and the surrounding 13 or so human worlds are trading with each other, and there will be no shortage of food, so this casting world is even more important.

The traitors can't ignore the undercurrent of the subspace, and if they can get in, so can the Imperial Guard called by Alan Bair, so the focus at the moment is to hold on, find a way to hold on.

There are three highly modified moving asteroid fortresses on the outer periphery of the void that can travel at sub-light speeds as fire support, and there are Imperial and orc warships as the main force, so the pressure on the Imperial Guard is actually not very great.

The Void is vast, and after the Imperial forces blockade Mandeville Point, the traitors must take it world by world in exchange for strategic advantage, because they need to rely on those Imperial worlds as supply points and jump points to reduce the burden of long-term voyages.

If you want to describe it vividly, in this star system, today's Red Pirates are empty buildings without foundations, although they are large and tall, but they have not stood firm, as long as the Astral Army guards the border, they cannot use the Pangia sub-star region as a springboard to enter the core of the extreme star field.

The task is daunting, and the reality is that the Imperial Guard must put itself in the most dangerous places in order to keep the vast empire alive.

Alan Bair took a sip of coffee and breathed in the first breath of Mechanical-style air after getting off the transport plane, and it smelled so bad that if an environmentalist from the Guterra era saw it, he would probably pass out directly.

The smoke was full of yellow mist, the peaks of the city that reached up to the clouds, and the transport planes that flew in and out of the sky like flocks of birds, this number had been reduced, and if there was no subspace to obstruct it, it would be covered by the transport planes that obscured the sky, because this was the richest area in the world below the starport.

However, in terms of suffering from widowhood and unevenness, the mechanical education has done a good job, and the machine slaves basically have only one treatment, work.

Their brain lobes were cut and emotion-suppressing devices were fitted in, and if they needed to make a sound, the vocal cords of their throats were cut off and replaced with speakers and grilles to amplify their voices.

With that kind of transformation spirit that there is useful for there, the Mechachanism is almost inhuman from top to bottom.

"It's not good, this is a broken task." Alan Bair complained, he sat in the transport car that the Mecha had prepared for the Astral Army, surrounded by a week of high-ranking Imperial officers and several soldiers from the only Skadi Regiment as escorts, and the high-level synthetic concocts on the seat made him feel more comfortable, except that the driver almost merged with the vehicle, which looked like a horror movie.

If it weren't for the fact that his twisted body was still clad in the red robes of the Mechanics, it would have been hard to imagine that such a thing was a mechanical priest, but perhaps noticing Alan Byer's impolite gaze, his protruding mechanical eyeballs sticking out like snails, and then twisting backwards...

"Read the database, query, what's the matter? Mr. Alan Bairer, Lieutenant Colonel of the Imperial Guard. ”

Those trembling, wriggling, mechanically moving tentacles really make one wonder if they have come to subspace in the cramped space of vehicles.

Alan Bair coughed. "How long do you have to get to the station?"

The priest replied. "Expected, three hours, forty-two minutes, and twelve seconds later."

Alan Bair replied. "Thank you, continue your work, praise Om Messiah."

The priest replied. "Praise be to Ohm Messiah!"

As an Imperial Guard, Alan Bair is now going to meet the Foundry Commander (Casting General), who rules both the world and the Aphars, but remember, the Cathars are not PDFs, but a terrifying military organization of real terror reformers.

The only thing that made Alan Baier feel relaxed was that the priest girl in his regiment joined the team here as a diplomat, but her method of communication with her fellow countrymen was incomprehensible to outsiders.

“10101100111111110000。 Activate, Enzan Protocol, 100011111011111110000000..."She muttered in the passenger seat, her highly modified body...

"Agree, activate the agreement, praise the God of all machines. 1010010101010010101010100000111111…”

Although I don't know if there is a saying in this world that you don't drive distracted, and you don't drive when you are distracted, maybe their prayers can make the car more stable, anyway, looking at the old brother's car as one, as if Picasso painted on him, there should be no car accidents.

Probably, perhaps...

"The bell is ringing twelve times, praise to Ome Messiah, Mr. Alan Bair, we have arrived." By the end of the long, long, foul-smelling and damn bumpy journey, Alan Barr had fallen asleep, mechanically teaching them not to breathe, they had no idea how bad it smelled here.

He patted the crumpled military uniform and scolded and commented. "I'll talk to the Governor of Foundry about this, and next time I'll ask the transport plane to carry me."

The mechanical priest replied. "Thanks for the proposal, compatriot, compatriot, compatite...", as if this sentence was very incomprehensible to him, which made Alan Baier a little annoyed, and wanted to give this "alien" like a "human" a head.

When the broken car left quickly, I had to admit that the research of the Mechanic Sect on human comfort was probably equivalent to the Middle Ages of Guterra, in a working place, and after finally returning to the ground, the senior officers of the Imperial Guard all lowered their heads and held their thighs.

They were numb, only the cushions were comfortable in that place, and after sitting for a long time, they would feel that the blood was not circulating, and I don't know what those people thought, the whole small space for the senior officers of the Imperial Guard to sit on, of course, could also be expressing their dissatisfaction.

The Mechanics are quite independent within the Empire, and if it weren't for this attack, the Imperial Guard would not have been able to get close to this place at all, in other words, they hate the fact that flesh and blood mortals disturb their lives and interfere in their world, and even the Imperial Guard's firepower is strong enough to destroy this place.

Those oil guys keep saying that they have no feelings and desires every day, and in the bottom of their hearts, they are the most greedy people, because they have transformed all the missing things into a thirst for knowledge, religious expectations, and the bell rings 12 or something?

The human soul is engraved with feelings, they will never erase all of it, the ruthlessness of the words on the lips is actually just to cover up their weakness, the Imperial Guard is the backbone of human beings, they are at most mechanical genitals or something.

Alan Bair muttered inwardly that he didn't like the oil guys, who, though they once represented the truth of the Empire, were now just gods, and their thirst for knowledge made them no longer human, but still greedy.

And at this moment, the group followed the slave down, it was a brown staircase made of lead plates, and when he walked down the ramp board, the first thing that caught his attention was the thick smell of sulfur in front of him, which felt like a sponge soaked with sulfur and promethium, and then stuffed it into your face.

There was also a fiery hot wind, like a stinking fart emitted from the furnace itself, sending the billowing heat from the factory beneath their feet through the foul-smelling air around them to the Imperial officers.

"Watch out for exhaust emissions, flesh and blood." The Servant who led the way said that the distinctive mechanical sound and the damn sound of his talker passing through the grille instantly distracted Alan Byer.

Even though he had been warned in advance, he choked and coughed, and then felt like he was almost suffocating, and that's when he began to be truly jealous of the respirators worn by the Titanium warriors.

The rest of the road is not necessarily far, and their destination is not surprisingly a... Church.

The golden bell, huge gears, and the gap between the gears are enough to fit a Riemanus, it looks like a monster-level giant creation, but Alan Baier can't tell what this thing is for, the Mechanics are obviously capable of making more advanced power transmission equipment, but they still have a soft spot for gears and pistons.

He stepped into front of a huge metal door, carved with countless intricate things, and a huge monster stood beside it, holding a power spear, and his stature was like that of an Oglien, and a huge jar of medicine hung from his body, and his flesh and blood were unusually swollen.

"Welcome." We were greeted by a vocal device humming in a peculiarly flat tone, and both hands simultaneously made a blunt gear gesture that was so popular with followers of the Automata. "I'm the Fekundia Infantry Brigade, the Bishop's Guard, Centurion Kibo (J.B.)."

A kistari, obviously, with a highly modified body, it's hard to imagine what the Mechonia thinks of human flesh and blood, a burden?

Alan Bair coughed. "We want to see the Governor."

Mr. Kibo lowered his head, binary flashed in his eyes, if that light was binary, Alan Bair just thought, he should be thinking anyway?

Under the watchful eyes of many Imperial officers, any Astral Army would feel nervous, but Mr. Kibo froze for half a minute before speaking, and replied in a unique mechanical voice.

"I don't, get, permission and, apply."

"Your team, no permission, please leave."

Alan Baier instantly had the feeling that he had been walled when he was on the website in his previous life, and he rubbed the tip of his nose. "I've been in the car for five hours, and I'm dying of exhaustion, you know, don't waste my time, if you don't want your world to be in ruins by heresy."

At this moment, the priest suddenly said. "My lord, we sat for about four hours, fifty-three minutes and seven seconds to be exact."

Alan Bair frowned, when did she have such a sense of humor? "Ahem, that's not the point, the point is, I applied for access."

Mr. Kibo lowered his head again, and after a noticeable stutter, he replied. "Access, failure, casting director, denial of your meeting."

Alan Baier really doubted that this guy was connected to the Internet, and he really couldn't stand this iron lump that didn't get in the oil and salt, so he waved his hand. "That, non-commissioned officer, give me your scythe."

Then the soldiers of the only regiment of Skady handed over their weapons in a proper manner, and Alan Bair took the thing and waved it in front of the big pimple in front of him.

"Dark Age Relic, high-tech, equipped with a Destruction Stand Generator for processing crops."

Da Yan replied immediately. "You visit, you apply, please please..."

"Failure."

Alan Baier frowned, and he pulled out his pistol. "A Dark Age relic that is compatible with heat melt, heat rays, lasers, most known forms of energy weapon firing and can fire small hydrogen bombs alone."

Kibo replied immediately. "Visit, Apply, Succeed."

A voice came from behind the massive metal door, an old, mechanically synthesized voice, but it couldn't hide its excitement. "Lord Lieutenant Colonel of the Skady Regiment, please come in, please come in, according to the visit agreement, take off your arms, and let the servants collect... Ahem, storage. ”

Alan Baier walked through the door and replied. "Put your M's fart, Lao Tzu is here to save you, not to go through the procedure with you, if you want a relic you have to spend money to buy it, let's clearly mark the price!"

The old thing behind the communicator replied. "So, please come in, about the heresy invasion, let's talk a little bit, how many throne coins are your relics sold?"

The other officers looked at each other, they thought they should have closed the door, but this one seemed....Did he go to rob the tomb?

Now it's a tomb robbery note 2 dignified serial

(End of chapter)