Warhammer: Empire Reboot

"You didn't want to leave, but you did."

Over the next few days, Ilancia discovered that she had become the strangest prisoner on the Vigilant Planet.

Lawson even arranged a job for her.

Eight hours a day.

The location is in the side hall of the Royal Court on the inner level of Saint Harbor.

The content is also very simple.

answer the questions.

This section covers the Eldar customs, common tactics, taboos in Webpath travel, Soulstone structure, Dark Eldar raiding methods, signs that the Jester might appear, and differences between the various Ark factions.

She can refuse when it involves Saim-Han's core internal secrets.

Lawson didn't press him for details.

He would only have the adjacent cornerstone sequence record one sentence.

[Refusing to answer; potentially high-value content.]

When Ilancia first saw this record, she almost drew her sword.

Lawson didn't even look up.

"Even if you hadn't told me, I would have known this place was valuable."

“You told me, and now I know how valuable this place is.”

"For me, it's all a gain."

Ilancia stared at him.

"You humans even use silence as a mining tool?"

Lawson turned a page of the document.

“You Spirit Race even use the future as an excuse to kill people, so let’s not complain about who’s dirty.”

Ilancia sat back down with a cold expression.

This human warlord annoyed her.

After her eight-hour workday, she is free to move around.

Lawson only imposed a few restrictions on her.

Do not approach the Void Claw control link.

Do not access the Blackrock Warehouse.

You must not assassinate Lawson.

The last one was written at the very bottom of the access permissions list.

When Yilancia saw it, she remained silent for a long time.

She asked the cornerstone sequence responsible for registration.

"Is this a sarcastic remark?"

The gray-armored human calmly replied, "Safety reminder."

Ilancia turned and left.

She suspected that all humans on the planet had been infected with some kind of wicked humor by Lawson.

After leaving the Royal Court, she went to the middle level of Saint Harbor for the first time.

Lawson tossed her a long, greyish-white cloak and had her pointed ears covered.

The cloak was made of rough material and was much heavier than the fabric of the Ark.

She was initially disgusted.

Later, I found that it was sturdy enough, and that the inner layer had a dust filter and a simple amulet sewn on, so I reluctantly accepted it.

The middle level of Saint Harbor remains scarred.

The war on Vigilant Star had just ended, and the entire hive was still recovering.

Many building exteriors were sheared off by artillery fire, transport tracks were bent into black iron bows, and charred chaotic symbols remained beside giant elevator shafts.

Some areas are still cordoned off with red warning lines, and combat units patrol behind the lines. Anyone who tries to get close will be immediately driven away.

Ilancia thought she was going to see chaos.

That's how human settlements are.

She had seen some imperial worlds in the past.

The lower classes huddled together among pipes and garbage heaps, their bodies stained with oil, disease spots, metallic dust, and numbness. Officials maintained order by shouting, soldiers pushed the crowds with their rifle butts, while nobles hid on higher ground, using the lower classes as their breathing fuel.

The warning star could have been worse.

This place has just been ravaged by the Chaos, the Greenskins, the Poor Princes, the Dark Eldar, and the Black Legion.

According to Ilancia's assessment, the middle ranks should at least be plagued by looting, riots, epidemics, and gangs taking advantage of the chaos.

She did see a long line when she walked down the first street.

But the line was quiet.

Hundreds of civilians lined up in front of a makeshift rationing station.

Standing on either side of the line were gray methyl stone sequencers, each holding a data board and constantly verifying identities.

No one cut in line, and no one was assaulted.

A thin little boy peeked out from the edge of the line, holding an empty water bottle in his hands.

He looked very nervous.

The woman in front of him turned around and whispered a reprimand to him.

The boy shrank back.

The coordinator in charge of registration saw it, walked over, and affixed a marker to the water jug.

"Family unit confirmed. Child nutrition supplement quota has been added."

The woman froze.

"Sir, he didn't want to take more, he just..."

The cornerstone sequence interrupted her.

"System records show that the child's weight has been below the healthy threshold for the past fourteen days. The supplementary quota is mandatory and does not count against the family's basic quota."

The woman seemed not to understand.

Ilancia stood on the street corner, looking at the water jug ​​that had been marked.

She knew that human cubs were vulnerable.

The offspring of short-lived races are especially vulnerable.

But she rarely saw the Imperial machine actively protecting this vulnerability.

The Eldar of the Ark will certainly protect the young.

Every newborn Eldar is precious.

The soul stone, education, and path choices of a young child affect the entire clan and temple.

But that's the Spirit Race.

The Eldar are few in number, and each life is like a spark about to be extinguished.

Humans are different; there are too many humans.

They have so much that they don't even cherish it.

But here, Lawson's system is actually recording the weight of a lower-class boy.

Ilancia found it absurd.

She continued walking forward.

The second block is the repair area.

A section of old transport track is being demolished and rebuilt.

Dozens of human workers wearing filter masks moved components according to the projection lines on the ground.

They looked very tired.

Sweat soaked through his work clothes.

There are old injuries on my arms and neck.

Some of them were clearly from the lower nest, their faces bearing the pallor left by years of low-light conditions.

A worker sat down, supporting his back, and soon a group of foundation stones walked over.

Ilancia thought he would be scolded.

The cornerstone sequence simply asked him to reach out and scanned his pulse and muscle condition.

"Mild dehydration. Recurrence of an old injury to the right lower back. Rest for seventeen minutes and replenish with saline solution."

The worker was taken aback.

"I can still do it."

"Do it again in seventeen minutes."

"But today's progress..."

"The schedule has been reallocated."

An older worker nearby laughed and scolded, "Just take a break when I tell you to. Don't be like the old foreman, who only feels loyal when he dies under the tracks."

A few bursts of laughter erupted from the surrounding area.

The worker with the back injury was a little embarrassed. He took the saline solution and sat down in the shade.