The transport craft was about to reach its predetermined destination from beyond orbit and began diving toward the ground.
Its target was the Ural Mountains.
As the transport craft dived at extreme speed, it took only two seconds to reach the mountains from beyond orbit. Even so, it was still attacked by the defensive systems.
Some unmanned, unmaintained turrets on the ground, belonging to no one, opened fire on it. Every shot struck the transport craft, but its shields protected it as it continued descending.
It was not completely safe until it reached the Ural Mountains.
After landing, the transport craft hovered two meters above the ground.
Qin Mo saw a large crowd standing outside the window. Their appearance was particularly strange—not the wasteland style of Mad Max, but the heavy industrial style of the post-apocalyptic era.
Every one of them wore a mask over their face, something that looked like a welder's mask.
None of them had hair. Instead, iron pipes, knotted like hair, coiled over their heads.
"The Terra Watt Tribe."
Just as Malcador was about to introduce them, the Emperor spoke first.
"Think of them as Terra's Martian machine worshippers."
"Before we arrived, I used Psychic Power to send a dream to the chief of the Terra Watt Tribe one hundred and thirty years ago, telling him that survivors from the technological age would come here in one hundred and thirty years. That is why they are standing here to welcome us."
Hearing the Emperor's words, Qin Mo suddenly remembered who these familiar masked people were.
The Terra Watt Tribe, as the Emperor had said, was roughly Terra's version of the Adeptus Mechanicus, though their doctrines differed.
They also worshipped machinery and technology.
They too believed in machinery and technology.
As for why they could no longer