Warhammer: Empire Reboot

The T-781's optical sensors slightly deflected, glancing at him.

"The nearest production area is 127 kilometers away."

"Outside the 37th position."

The old priest remained silent for a few seconds.

"One hundred and twenty-seven kilometers..."

Previously, the Chaos Drop Pod even crashed through the ceiling above their heads.

He then asked, "Is it dangerous?"

T-781 placed a calibrated bomb gun down.

“It is extremely dangerous for the enemy.”

The old priest thought for a moment.

He nodded in satisfaction.

"Praise the gears."

Besides the technical priests buried deep underground, the Kadian refugees on Agrippina were also disillusioned with the cruelty of war.

When they fled here after the Gate of Kadian shattered, they were met with despair and death.

They are considered a liability.

Young and able-bodied men were taken to minefields to clear mines.

The elderly, weak, sick, and disabled were pushed onto the operating table, had their frontal lobes removed, and were transformed into machine servants to transport artillery shells.

Then Lawson arrived.

In the Agrippina Underground Third Residential District, a sense of "order" extremely rare in the Warhammer universe was quietly established.

There was no fighting here.

The cornerstone sequence suicide soldiers handle all peripheral defense and logistical tasks.

Every morning, the piercing alarm no longer signals refugees to their deaths.

It's a timer/rest call.

Colonel Steker, a retired Cardinal veteran, dressed neatly, walked out of the small but impeccably clean metal dormitory.

He no longer needs to go to the front lines and physically clear minefields.

His current position is Tactical Instructor at the Agrippina Defense Staff.

Their daily work involved leading hundreds of disabled Cadian officers to simulate the infiltration routes of Chaos Infantry on a sand table, based on battlefield data relayed by the suicide soldiers, thus providing a tactical supplement to the swarm mentality from a mortal perspective.

Stark headed towards the cafeteria.

Clean drinking water is supplied through independent pipes, eliminating the need to exchange ration coupons on the black market.

After finishing his meal, he looked towards the square outside the cafeteria.

Ella, a female soldier who once watched helplessly as her family members were turned into machine servants, now wears a neat work uniform.

She works as a quality inspector on a bomb fuse assembly line.

At the other end of the square is the children's basic education area.

Hundreds of Kadian orphans who lost their parents in exile sit on metal benches.

The teachers were disabled veterans from Kadian who had lost both legs or arms.

They no longer teach children how to bite open a grenade with their teeth.

Instead, it teaches basic mechanical principles, mathematical calculations, and star map recognition.

And to pledge allegiance to the Lord Seal Master.

Fixed food rations.

Clean drinking water.

Safe living area.

Clearly define job responsibilities.

Basic education for children.

Disabled veterans should be properly resettled.

This is the change that Lawson brought to Agrippina.

It doesn't sound grand.

It's not romantic either.

But for these people, it was more like a miracle than any sacred word.

While they worked hard, the spoils of war on the front lines continued to pile up at an alarming rate.

The spaceport on the far side of Agrippina's primary star has become a massive interstellar waste recycling center.

Traction beams intertwine in space.

The port, originally used to dock Mechanicus behemoth-class transport ships, is now densely packed with Chaos warships of all types.

Two Red Pirate Killer-class cruisers, which had just been boarded and seized, were being slowly towed into the dock by suicide tugboats.

Deeper inside, the hulls of dozens of Chaos frigates, their weapons and engines removed, were moored.

Giant metal containers float in space.

It was filled with plasma reactors, macro gun arrays, deflector shield generators, and even fragments of adamantite keel left over from the Great Expedition era, all salvaged from enemy ships.

The T-series mechanical assassins, like tireless ants, scurried through the wreckage, dismantling, sorting, numbering, and purifying it.

The underground armory No. 7 is not far from the spaceport.

This armory is as big as ten football fields.

The mounting brackets are arranged in rows.

The shelves were filled with various models of power armor.

The Mark III "Iron Armor" stripped from the World Eater.

The heavy Terminator armor used by the Iron Warrior.

The Mark VII "Skyhawk" armor originally belonged to the Imperial Chapter, was later looted by the Red Pirates, and has now been taken back by Lawson.

The bloodstains, rust, and chaotic runes have all been cleaned away.

The damaged ceramic steel deck has been repaired.

The ruptured servo muscle is reconnected.

From the outside, the thousands of power armors look brand new.

But they were not deployed.

It can only stand quietly on the shelf, covered in metallic dust, becoming the most expensive dusty ornament.

Lawson stood on the high platform of the armory, looking down at the cold, hard metal objects below, his expression grim.

the reason is simple.

He no longer had any living metal in his hands.

The only way for the assassins to wear Astartes-class power armor is to replace the Space Marines' black armor with the living metal of the Necromancers and establish a direct neural connection.

Over the past year, Lawson's stockpile of living metal has been completely depleted, as he has been working to arm five thousand Thunder Warriors across the five legions and to repair damaged armor.

Aside from maintaining the shape changes of the 108 shadow wheels, there wasn't a single drop left in the inventory.

Without living metal, there are no neural connections.

These thousands of repaired power armors are just a pile of heavy iron coffins.

Wearing them makes even walking difficult, let alone tactical evasion on the battlefield.

The lack of space necromancers has far-reaching consequences beyond simply preventing the deployment of power armor.

It directly cut off the lifeline of Lawson's entire war system.

[Static field/Arsenal transfer network].

Lawson's static force field teleportation was achieved based on the twenty-seven cubic meters of storage space in the armory.

Upon entering.

One episode.

Complete the instantaneous transfer of matter.

In the early days, twenty-seven cubic meters was enough for Lawson to have his way with.

not now.

The plate is too big.

The main battlefield in Agrippina consumes massive amounts of ammunition and supplies every day.

The seventeen agricultural planets in the Klein system input hundreds of thousands of tons of organic waste every day.

Most fatally, Lawson had planted tens of thousands of assassins as mobile supply depots throughout the various Astartes companies on the Empire's dark side.

They not only had to deliver ammunition to the Space Marines, but also dismantle and transport back macro cannon barrels, mountains of adamantite ore, and giant warship engines collected from the battlefield.

Demand is exponentially increasing.

The transit channel, however, only has a capacity of twenty-seven cubic meters.

It's like a cross-sea bridge that can only accommodate a single vehicle suddenly having to carry the logistics and transportation of the entire continent.

It would be strange if it wasn't congested.

The system's relay network is experiencing severe queuing.

In order to prevent the front line from collapsing, swarm intelligence was forced to formulate strict transit priority agreements.

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