Destiny Steel

Hall of the Twelve Temples

The once-solemn hall of the Iron Warriors' Legion, the Queen of Glory, is once again brightly lit up, as all the Iron Warriors aboard the Iron Blood, who can still get up, have all gathered here.

Just to be reviewed by their genetic father again after 10,000 years.

Just looking at their variously decorated Seiko Power Armor, you can see how carefully they have prepared for this - yes, the original Iron Warrior is indeed not known for the elaborate decoration of the exterior, but more just the simple roughness of the black and yellow stripes on the primary color Power Armor, which can be used.

But that's not what it used to be.

Everyone has received a lot of information from their own private sources about the current situation of the Father of Genes, so there is a situation that no one has ever seen in the galaxy for thousands of years.

Iron Warriors, veterans of the eternal battles who have had the privilege of accompanying the Primordial Body—oh yes, after the rejuvenation of a certain potion master, or for some other reason, everyone's limbs have begun to reverse the chaotic corruption phenomenon, or to achieve a delicate balance in the seemingly normal limbs; And their height has increased dramatically these days.

In particular, Aharim, the only Iron Warrior veteran who had escaped the clutches of a master, was slowly growing in height and weight, but slightly different from his unfortunate comrades, who had grown in size along with his muscular body, and looked stronger and more powerful, with arms capable of running horses, to the envy of the rest of his comrades who had been genetically robbed.

The heightened stature of the crowd was matched by gleaming armor plating rubbed throughout, incense-smoked armor linings, silver warband insignia and well-groomed hair and beards, weapons worn around their waists with hand-chiseled gold and silver curls carved by the user, power armor with gold etched inscriptions, backpacks, cluster missile launchers and mechanical arm edges, decorative leather tassels with nails, and elaborate tassel ribbons—

One of them, a war blacksmith with the most intricate armor and weapon decorations, while pleased with the magnificence of his appearance, also asked a puzzled soul question: "When did you all believe in the Prince of Darkness?" How did I not know? ”

They rolled their eyes and made death-threatening gestures.

"Clothed in strong armor, the heart is like steel! Obey or die! Blood...... We are Iron Warriors! It's not that kind of weak and perverted slacker thing! ”

"Steel inside and out! Obey or die! Praise the wisdom of the Father as the abyss as the sea! The combination of knowledge and technology is the most esoteric and powerful! Speaking of which, I haven't seen our think tank director lately? Hasn't he healed yet? I also want to break the ice first to discuss some rune technical issues with him. ”

"Alas, steel becomes strength, and strength is determination; Determination casts faith, faith produces tenacity and iron! Life is so wonderful, and you are so grumpy, not good, not good, let's wait here quietly for our loving Father to come and review. ”

"You ......"

At this moment, the astronomical clock, placed in front of the hall of the Twelve Gods, solemnly struck twenty-two times, announcing the arrival of the eternal, complete, and absolute master of the place.

The veterans bowed their heads respectfully, uneasily, and hopefully, saluting their kings, masters, and fathers.

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After reading the last databoard, the giant god who sat high on a throne made of ancient Olympian art, memorabilia of war, captured weapons and data cables of various enemy leaders, and steel finally spoke.

"So, that's all your battle plan? Is there anything else you'd like to say? ”

The Iron Warriors in the hall all bowed their heads slightly, showing respect for the Iron Lord, and breathed heavily.

More than one Iron Warrior uneasily and secretly changed his center of gravity in the power armor.

"Don't even speak?"

Ahalim stood on the platform beside the Iron Lord's massive throne, glad he wasn't wearing a helmet, and whispered his eyes to the rest of his peers - he didn't dare to say more or utter any small codes, and doing such a thing at such a distance from their genetic father was a perfect example of self-defeat.

Sitting in another special seat next to the throne, the fearless of the dreadnought, which was connected to a large number of additional cables and switches today, seemed to let out a very soft snort or sneer, and the beams and floating points of the data stream marked by the exchange of information at ultra-high speed continued to flicker violently, but there was no more movement beyond that.

"Okay, don't talk, do you?" They heard their Father of Genes speak again, and the mellow bass now sounded like the deepest demons of nightmare and despair, "Well, let's draw lots one by one." ”

A bloody and terrifying legend or memory suddenly struck the hearts of many people.

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It's the thirtieth Terra hour after the Iron Warriors Rally in the halls of the Twelve Temples.

The war blacksmith Chanto sat there with a dull stare, his helmet had been removed, and a lot of crystal sweat slipped uncontrollably down the line of his jaw, dripping into the furrows of his thick neck armor, steaming with bursts of heat.

"Already...... I can't stand it anymore...... Don't come again......"

"What do you say! Again! Again! As the ruler of Marodarax and the war blacksmith of the Warbands of the Children of the Forge, is that all you have to do?! Again! ”

"No...... You...... I...... I really can't do it......"

Shanto let out a final moan and slid from his chair to the ground with a clatter, his hands and feet twitching uncontrollably from the overload of his brain's short-term overuse.

"Tsk, carry away! Carry it away! Next! ”

The steady footsteps of the stonesmiths appeared opposite "Pertulabo", and the old stonemasons still performed a courtesy to their genetic father, which was perfectly in line with etiquette.

"Oh, it's Soltan, I hope you'll give me some other surprises this time."

"I wish so, our beloved Father." The old stonemason lifted his eyelids from behind his respirator mask.

"So, enter your battlefield information and start simulating the data."

"Before I begin, my lord, can I know more data?"

The steel primordial on the other side, who had completely entered a state of interest, narrowed his eyes, "Oh? All the basic information was used and tagged pretty much by the people before you, right? What do you mean? ”

Soltarn replied quietly, "I would like to know if my team can bring an extra new blood in this simulated match." ”

"Huh? Interesting request, Soltan, I thought you didn't like these lads very much. ”

"If they can bring us better, faster, and bigger victories, then I really don't mind anything else, my master."

"Of course," he saw an appreciative smile from his Genetic Father across from him, "It's a smart choice to bring an extra apothecary, Soltan. ”

He knew he was doing it right.

Wail.

I thought I could write that the two armies entered the sensor scanning distance and found that it couldn't be written

(End of chapter)