On the Forge World of Shana II, ore haulers rolled one after another toward the gear-shaped gates.
Inside a platinum ore transport, a red-robed Tech-Priest approached the giant clad in Tartaros-pattern Terminator Armor.
The Mechadendrite on his right shoulder hung down. "Lord Oleksandr, confirmation received. Great Sage Paishang is here."
Oleksandr, First Company Captain of the Third Legion's Shadow of Order, took the data-slate and flicked through it with his fingers.
The Tech-Priest watched Lord Oleksandr's casual movements. His obsidian eyes did not linger for even a second on the fully armed Skitarii.
"The Forge Temple's guards are divided into three shifts—"
"The basement?"
The Tech-Priest's words caught in his Sonic Array synthesizer, and he said helplessly,
"That's right. Paishang has been conducting forbidden research all along. That was also why, when faced with the binary choice, he firmly chose the Warmaster."
"He'll be there for the next thirty minutes?"
"My lord—yes." The device on the Tech-Priest's chest flashed red and green in alternating pulses.
"Outside Paishang's basement, there are always one hundred and forty-four combat Servitor assistants equipped with laser weapons and melt weapons."
"On both sides of the gate, there are also sentries capable of taking down an entire Astartes squad."
"."
"I understand." After speaking, Oleksandr the "Spirit Witch" sank back into his chair.
His massive body made the seat creak, and his breathing gradually became long and steady.
As the Tech-Priest watched Lord Oleksandr's eyelids droop shut over his obsidian-like eyes, the red and green lights on his chest flashed ever more rapidly.
A string of error codes raced through his Logic Engine.
He fell asleep! Why did he fall asleep at such a critical moment?
God of All Machines! Please deliver divine punishment!
*The Fabricator-General entrusted such an important matter to someone this stupid. The