The Predictive Divination Device, whose full name is 13-Gamma-67, is the Empire's metal satellite, and incorporates the bones of many martyrs, heroes, and loyalists, as well as the exquisite equipment and the Emperor's Cultist Soul, allowing it to detect and stabilize subspace fluctuations, assist the navigators of the Empire's ships, and provide general information about the area.

It has been hanging here for decades, and at this moment, exactly seventeen starships have been transferred into real space under its vigilant visual receivers in a few decades.

Now, the eighteenth ship arrived, and the self-scripted data feed unfolded through the detector's artificial cortex, automatically censoring and responding to the predictive scan readings, but just as its mech was preparing to sort through another scan without major events, the probe's musings were shattered as a priority positivity block signal roared from its bird's carnator.

The Prophecy Detector's Void Enhancement Lens refocuses, and its positrosor hums, sucking data across each spectrum as reality distorts.

The force field shifted and fluctuated in a vast area, and the light bent in the distorted ultra-wide-angle lens that the probe stared at, as if it were distorting at the core of a black hole, many of which shone and went out into the darkness, each flame as if it had scorched the shell of real space.

Until the rift between reality and illusion appeared, and the physical substance was stripped away like the flesh of a leper's face, and the aura overflowed, churning in the spring and emitting an eerie light.

The real space vibrated violently, twisting and stretching at the same time, and then it was torn open like a cracked wound, and a starship rushed out of it.

The exterior of its covered stance was stimulated by magical psionic energy, tumbling, its engines humming and roaring in its endeavors, pistons incessant, and the ship's Geller field collapsing in a pulsing fireball of discharge, revealing a ship nearly kilometers long, the battered hull plates of the reinforced Imperial warship scorched and dented.

Behind it, cracks in real space rolled wildly, tendrils of dirty light groping blindly, like hounds trying to reclaim the countless souls on it as a prize before the ship fled.

As the subspace anomaly collapsed under the physical barrier caused by the arrival of the real universe, the wounded starship was finally able to sail freely, and the detection satellite gamma worked rapidly to compile and classify, scan, and transmit.

The cowhide scroll buzzed inside its armor shell, ready to launch a bundle of intelligence through its array carved with an Aquila, and the mech interrogated and quickly determined that the ship was positioned as a strike cruiser, a ship of the Space Marines.

Faster auto-scanning detects and classifies the crest of the Destruction Eagle Warband, from the Savage World of Spectre Peak in Damocles Bay.

The industrious Imperial Probe was constantly working, collecting, recording, analyzing, and storing, and the high-end storage units of artificial neural units and wet pieces were unaware that the half-flamed ship was coming towards it in the darkness of the universe without friction.

When the poor satellite soul realized that something was wrong, it frantically ignited the flank thrusters to open the orbit, and packed the communication language to send to the soul of the Star Mariner cruiser, but as the servo roared, the huge battleship streaked through the void, and the diligent Imperial engine turned into a ball of fire and exploded.

It left a slight scorch mark on the bow plating on the right side of the assault cruiser, just below the ship's name, leaving a small mark on the "Baptism of Fire".

This is a remote waterway, which was discovered by a few adventurer fleets many years after the establishment of the Empire, because of its poor flow in subspace, and the undercurrent is continuous, it is regarded as a non-preferred path by the Empire, but in times of war, this position can make itself undetected, and the price can be roughly clear when you look at the baptism of fire today...

Many mortal servants anxiously stepped on the metal deck of the ship, those servants who had thrived on this strike cruiser for dozens of generations had not even seen what the planet was like, nor had they fallen from any world, except for the particularly beloved servants, most of their lives were only a part of this baptismal fire combat strike cruiser, a very small part.

This subspace trip was the first time in many people's lives that they had seen such a severe loss, and compared to the composure of the Space Marines, the busyness and stampede of those mortals made the maintenance of order worse and slower.

And with the passage of time, there was also a problem with the gravity generation array inside the ship, and countless people subconsciously like drowning fish, trying to hold on to the handrail and other things under the constantly flashing warning lumens, relying on strength to pull forward, like people who can't swim are drowned.

But no matter how chaotic it was, as soon as the Space Marines strode past them, the mortals would stop and salute them with their slender arms as if instinctively.

At this moment, under the flashing emergency lumen lights in the ship, the fourth company commander is urgently looking for someone, he doesn't need to hold on to the handrail or pull anything like those mortals, as if there are suction cups on the soles of his feet, and several combat brothers around him are ready to go.

He slammed into the failed gate valve in front of him, the iron sheet bent under its force, and after the power failed, the small gap between his shoulder armor was held by his fingers, and the power armor made a sizzling sound, and the power system drove with all its might.

After the violent humming sound that made people's teeth ache, the hydraulic iron door that had no ability to be provided by the battleship was actually pulled open by manpower little by little, and the power main control room in it was revealed.

The flickering and intricate Imperial Machines were originally the core power to assist the strike cruiser, and those circuits and enhanced information processors or skull servers were supposed to be their help in breaking through the subspace, but now they are persecuted cleanly.

Traces of power axes were everywhere, holy bone remains and servos, saint cortex or fortune tellers, those things were paralyzed by the frenzied attack, while at the same time.

The scarlet-robed mechanical sage's emotionless pupil monitor looked at the furious warrior, the raster roaring with the sound of machinery, muttering demonic mechanical words from subspace.

“0100100010010…”

The irony is that the light of Ommesiah, who was still gracious during his travels, devoted himself to maintaining this vital room with his weak metal body, and completed his great mission against the filth of subspace despite the partial failure of Geller's position.

Now, in the eyes of the fourth company commander, the conscientious sage is dead, and his loyal soul has been swept away by the torrents that constantly reverberate in those subspaces, and now all that is left is the metal body, which is pitiful and lamentable.

But no matter what the heretics wanted to say or do, the Star Marines company commander at this moment was like a beast with tense muscles, depressing his body, and firing like flames, like projectiles, cutting through the space where there was only mad mechanical language.

As a veteran, he had experienced the days when heretics had bewitched his comrades, and he had tasted the test of faith, when his swift thoughts and two strong hearts beat to stir the blood flow, and his muscles roared, and he grasped the pathetic throat of this heretic with ten thousand pounds of strength, and the power of his fingers completely severed the grid in his throat, allowing the whisper to dissipate.

He removed the entire metal head, and the blood-red engine oil sprayed, staining the company commander's white cloak and beautiful armor red, but the soldier did not care about himself, and threw the head off and fired it with explosive shells, leaving deep bullet marks and fragments of the burst skull in the ship's cabin.

Will the souls of the faithful still go to the Lord of Humanity to worship the Golden Throne? But it seemed that he was hopeless, and that kind of pity and pity flashed in the hearts of the few mortals who followed the Space Marine, but it was only a flash.

They hurriedly rushed forward to collect the blood-like oil and debris, followed by a massive heresy examination and hundreds of deaths before the ship could be stabilized.

After sacrifice, blood, and change, this precarious ship can dock, but the fourth company commander does not need to be safe, he needs to move, he needs to leave, he needs to go to that rebel freeport, and use the raid of the Space Marines to lay a camp for the Imperial Guard to be stationed.

The Eagle's mobility allows them to spear through areas where air defenses are lacking, while the enemy's clumsy civilian ships of mercenaries and pirates are not effective in hindering the Space Marines' warships, they only need to get in before the enemy gathers strength and destroy those enemies to gain the upper hand.

But now, their Startalker is dead, the Starling Array is lost, and at the same time, the Sage Priest in the general control area has also been corrupted and cleaned up, the possibility of subspace travel has been destroyed, most of the systems have failed, if it weren't for the fact that the engine can still move at sub-light speed, then they are a space shipwreck...

The newly returned company commander on the bridge was stopped by the technical sergeant, the hissing voice and his third arm reminding the company commander of the mechanical sage that had just been torn apart, and the brother who believed in Ommesiah spoke words that gave the company commander a headache. "There are about 80 light-years to go to Freeport, and a maximum of two days of experience time for a subspace voyage, and a week in the real world."

"I know! So you're letting the ship into subspace?! The company commander scolded angrily, and many of the brothers who worked here stopped their work because of this, and his gaffe was witnessed by many people, and it was terrible, and extremely unsuitable for the present.

The company commander quickly calmed down and muttered. "What's your name?"

The technical sergeant replied. "Kelham, brother."

He asked. "Brother Kellerm, how much more we have to lose."

The technical sergeant replied, "We've had fires and ammunition explosions on several gun decks, and the stern void shield generator is no longer working. Ship-wide communications have failed, and we've lost more than half of our hull pre-predictors. ”

"And what about our subspace engine?" The commander of the fourth company muttered.

"The dead sage Ramdax was forced to stand still for fear of the firmament feedback or evil overflowing, and now it has proven impossible to restart." The sergeant replied.

"Then we are paralyzed," the company commander said angrily. "Without the power of the subspace engine to penetrate the veil, we were confined to the conventional engine. The journey of our subspace takes days, years under this conventional power. We have no way to reconnect with the big troops, or even let our comrades know that we are alive! ”

"How long will it take us to make repairs?" He continued.

"We don't have equipment, large equipment, and secondly, the death of the technical sage also brings the exact vacancy, and the core technology of the subspace engine can only be mastered by the casting sage above the level of 15 civilizations." The technical sergeant read.

The company commander slammed the technical sergeant Kelham to the ground during his years of training at the Martian Academy, and the reality is true, the Mechanic Sect will not hand over the core to any outsiders, let alone a smart space marine, which is even more dangerous.

"So what's our current course of action?" The non-commissioned officer who successfully entered the core area of the fourth company listened for a long time and came to ask.

He added. "Presumably, we have no success in pacifying the enemy, and we can only wander in the darkness of the stars, but that will not serve the will of the emperor."

The company commander said. "Start the soothsayer." After hearing this, the technical sergeant pressed a sequence of runes into the holographic table, whispering the awakening ritual as before.

The device flickered actively, creating a three-dimensional map of the local space in the air, the Baptism of Fire in the center, represented by a red-and-white rune, and the map around it slowly expanding as the ship's remaining prophets incorporated its surroundings into a data mural.

Ironically, the satellite providing the message had just been struck by them, and now it was only possible to rely on the slow scanning of the ship's own instruments, making it seem tormenting every minute and every second.

"There's a confirmation from a deep space satellite," Kelham said. "That at least puts us on the edge of a galaxy."

"There it is!" Master Chief said, pointing out as more runes flashed. "An asteroid belt. A gas giant. A world of death. ”

"More planets," said the company commander, "and with the Imperial Emblem." By the Emperor's grace, we have come to a system of settlement, brothers. ”

Spaceflight data unfolds on one side of the map. Names began to flash, written in High Gothic, and the bridge crew worked hard to triangulate.

"Loand's system!" Technical Sergeant Kellerm read out loud. "And there, the Capital World, the main planet of Loand, Tithe Level Two (the low-level Nest World), suggests that there is plenty of orbital dockyards to expedite our repairs."

"Even better...... Master Chief said happily, typing the command into the rune keys of the holographic table. The monitor focuses on the main star of Caledus, expanding the world into a slowly rotating sphere and projecting additional information around it with a halo.

"A planet's star language array," the company commander smiled stiffly. "That's good news. Not only will we be able to repair the Baptism of Fire, but we will also be able to rely on the planet's Star Whisperer Spirit Choir to penetrate subspace and send messages to Skadi. ”

"We will let them know about our situation at the destination and coordinate our rendezvous point with the expeditionary fleet in Pangia. We will return to the heart of the war! ”

The master chief suddenly interrupted the company commander's words. "I'm sorry, but this is in the Freeport-controlled zone, and I think the enemy already knows we're going to attack, so..."

"Forever eager to kill the enemy and sharpen the blade, I understand, brother." The company commander replied. "Give orders to all the brothers in the fleet who are still moving."

"We've discovered a world that could serve the Empire, but now we're deep into the enemy's camp like a spear, so we could face anything!"

"Get ready to explode! Land, kill, eagle strikes the sky, death falls from the sky, for the emperor! ”

"For the Emperor!" Hearing the order, the Destroyer Eagle Warband warriors shouted, their low, loud voices echoing through the ship's corridors and through the deep chambers, filling their mortal servants with pride and courage!

(End of chapter)