Six hours later.
Three hundred kilometers from the blast epicenter stood a factory.
The shockwave and earthquake caused by the Psionic Void Bomb had split enormous cracks through the factory's outer walls. Pipes had ruptured, liquids leaked everywhere, racks holding storage tanks had collapsed in large swathes, and damaged wires spat sparks every so often.
The factory had already been reduced to a half-ruined state.
The radiation produced by the Psionic Void Bomb was too complex and too intense, preventing the factory's maintenance robots from receiving clear signals. Thus, the machines merely performed chaotic, meaningless tasks, looking as though they had gone mad.
A huge breach had opened in the corruption pool. Most of the corruption water it had once held had flowed out through the gap, leaving behind only a small portion of clogged, murky liquid.
Then ripples suddenly spread across that filthy liquid.
A silver-gray mechanical head rose from beneath the surface, followed by a neck, then a chest. A tall robot stepped out of the corruption pool one step at a time, yet its heavy mechanical body landed without a sound.
The robot wore a seemingly tattered black cloak. It raised its skeletal mechanical left hand and pulled the edge of its hood lower, wrapping itself up tightly.
The surrounding surveillance devices turned a blind eye to the robot, as if they were blind.
In truth, to the monitoring equipment, this robot simply did not "exist." That unremarkable black cloak could effectively block the ray-based detection of ordinary surveillance devices.
At the same time, this mechanical body was not some cobbled-together toy that merely looked the part. It possessed a genuinely complete structure. Its power was formidable, its quality stable, its movements agile and precise, and it generated extremely little noise or heat while moving, making it