Desperate Citizens

The tin robot Moss looked excitedly toward the gate, only to find it empty.

"Master?" Moss's electronic voice sank, carrying an inexplicable sadness.

Ever since Green Wave Farm had been established, it had been responsible for managing the farm and had never taken a single step outside.

Yet through the endless years before this, its master had never come to inspect the results of its work.

Moss stood frozen, the nozzle in its hand still hissing as it sprayed pesticide.

A gust of wind blew through, carrying the pesticide back and splattering it over Moss's body.

Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle!

Sparks burst from short circuits across Moss's body, but it seemed not to notice.

If the short circuit continued, it would most likely "die" from damaged components.

But at that moment, it was trapped in a strange loop and failed to react at all.

Bang—

Part of the sky behind Moss turned black.

A huge panel crashed down, revealing a cold steel wall.

"Damn Mimicry Panel 613 again!"

Moss hurriedly set down the pesticide sprayer and ran toward where the mimicry panel had fallen. It had to repair the Mimicry Panel immediately.

It arrived beside Mimicry Panel 613, extending two slender mechanical arms from its back to repair it.

"How many times has Mimicry Panel 613 fallen?" Moss wondered as it worked.

Its mechanical brain immediately retrieved the stored data: 4,567 times!

Oh, damn Mimicry Panel 613!

As a farm robot, maintaining the farm was Moss's duty.

If nothing unexpected happened, it would continue working at Green Wave Farm forever.

Repairing that damned mimicry panel while waiting for the master it had never met to come inspect its work.

Within the Void of Green Wave Farm, a Psyker marker flickered slowly. It was the Teleport Homer.

The Spire bedroom in the Palatine District.

Hiss!

Ron jolted awake, his head splitting with pain!

"Ah! My lord?" The worried voices of the maids came from beside him.

"What happened to you?!"

Linda turned pale and urged, "Quick, call the Apothecary!"

"No need. I'm fine."

Ron knew that nothing had gone wrong with him. It was merely a side effect of his consciousness withdrawing from the Warp.

The sensation came quickly and faded just as quickly. He recovered almost at once.

Ron dismissed the maids and walked onto the balcony, feeling the warmth of the sunlight.

A faint smile rested on his lips as the gloom in his heart was swept away.

He had found a way to break the deadlock!

Inside the Space Hulk in the Warp, he had found a farm left behind from the Golden Age.

That farm not only contained cultivation techniques and seeds, but also a robot from the Golden Age!

That was the true treasure!

As for the Imperium's taboos and its ban on intelligent machinery, Ron could not care less. The Imperium could no longer control him.

As long as he used it within reasonable limits, what was there to fear?

Even if there were risks, they lay in the distant future.

For now, he needed to use every possible means to increase his strength and survive first.

He had not found powerful weapons or sacred relics during this trip into the Warp, but finding a solution to the food shortage and a robot from the Golden Age was still an enormous gain.

Once he brought back the Golden Age's cultivation technology, together with the robot's help—

He could establish farms on a massive scale and solve the food shortage.

The key now was how to bring those treasures back.

Fortunately, before his energy ran out, Ron had left a Psyker Teleport Homer at the farm.

As long as he had enough Power of Hope, he could activate Little Sun's teleportation ability, travel to the farm through a portal, and bring everything back!

So the most urgent matter was finding a place to install the Psionic Core and absorb the people's Power of Hope!

As for the location, Ron had already decided.

"Carter!" Ron called.

"Yes!"

Carter, captain of the Praetorian Guard, answered as he entered. His nearly two-and-a-half-meter frame carried an overwhelming sense of oppression. Even Ron, who stood one meter eighty, had to raise his head to see Carter's face.

But Carter would never behave so disrespectfully. He stopped before Ron and dropped to one knee to receive his orders. "Governor!"

→

Whenever Ron saw Carter, he felt that Carter had the makings of an Adeptus Astartes. When he had the chance in the future, he needed to assemble a squad of Adeptus Astartes as guards.

In the world of Warhammer 40K, the Adeptus Astartes were the only true symbol of power.

Ron cast aside those complicated thoughts and focused on resolving the immediate problem.

"Come with me to Sacred Plaza!"

"Yes, my lord!" Carter's expression was resolute. After accepting the order, he turned and left to make preparations.

Whenever Ron went out, an airtight security plan had to be arranged to ensure his safety.

After all, Homan House wanted him dead at every moment. Who knew how many assassins they had sent? It was better to be cautious.

Soon, under Carter's arrangements, Ron took a hovercar to Sacred Plaza.

After getting out, Ron ordered Carter and the other Praetorian Guards to stand watch around the area. He then walked beneath the God-Emperor Statue at the center of the plaza and looked up at the towering monument.

It had once been a sacred and solemn symbol, but now it was battered and broken.

Even so, it still radiated a trace of majesty that inspired instinctive reverence.

This was where Ron had chosen to place the Psionic Core.

With the God-Emperor Statue as the origin point, the Psionic Core's energy could radiate across most of the territory.

Ron placed his hand on the statue's base and used his consciousness to communicate with Little Sun in the Warp.

He would establish a hidden passage between the Warp and reality, allowing Little Sun to place the Psionic Core within the statue.

In the Warp, Little Sun's radiance grew increasingly brilliant. Wave after wave of fluctuations spread outward, stirring up a Psyker storm.

The violent tremors of Psyker energy caused changes in space.

Crack—

The Void before Little Sun shattered like glass, revealing an irregular rift.

Through the rift, the head of a God-Emperor Statue could vaguely be seen.

The passage had been established!

A tiny mote of light then split away from Little Sun's sphere. It was the Psionic Core it had separated.

The Psionic Core would serve as an anchor in reality, drawing positive emotions from within its range for Little Sun—the thing Ron called the Power of Hope.

The orb-like Psionic Core swiftly entered the God-Emperor Statue's head and settled there completely.

The passage connecting reality then closed, leaving only an invisible Psyker line linking the Psionic Core and Little Sun.

Ron faintly felt that he had formed a connection with the statue.

Besides absorbing the Power of Hope, he could also redirect a portion of the people's worship of the God-Emperor onto himself.

"Finally done!"

The entire process had taken only a few seconds, yet Ron felt as though his body had been hollowed out.

"Governor!"

"Call for reinforcements!"

When Ron's consciousness returned to reality, he found himself surrounded by a circle of Custodians. Carter had even deployed a shield that completely covered him, leaving no gaps.

The instant Ron had communicated with Little Sun, Carter had sensed danger and immediately moved to protect him.

As the captain of the Governor's Praetorian Guard, Carter would rather sacrifice himself than allow himself to make the same mistake again!

Fortunately, it had only been a false alarm.

Only after conducting a thorough investigation and confirming that everything was safe did Carter order everyone to disperse, while further strengthening the guard around the area.

Following the fine thread in the Void, Ron sensed the Psionic Core's existence.

Now it could continuously absorb the Power of Hope!

Once it absorbed enough energy, he could activate Little Sun's teleportation ability and send himself to the farm aboard the Space Hulk!

Ron checked the numbers. If the Power of Hope generated by an ordinary person at one time was one point, then activating the teleportation ability required two hundred thousand points!

The shortfall in Power of Hope was considerable, but he was not worried. After all, the territory held several million people!

Ron controlled the Psionic Core, absorbing the Power of Hope from throughout the territory.

144 points?

He froze.

The Power of Hope was so scarce.

Ron could only sense the people's confusion, Fear, and helplessness. They were crying out in pain!

Darkness was eroding everything. Endless despair hung over the territory. Where could hope possibly be found?

What should he do?