After watching the many Elatana-class Armed Sentinels form a complete formation of four ranks, Cawl approached them curiously and looked them over. From time to time, he carefully inspected their connecting structures and probed their energy systems.
The manufacturing methods Iax demonstrated with this ancient production line were almost entirely different from the methods Cawl knew.
The Emperor had once strictly forbidden the unrestricted use of these ancient industrial tools.
But standard production factories had once been scattered throughout the Milky Way, after all. Some Tech-priest on an archaeological expedition would always find equipment that could still barely function. Yet no matter how hard they tried, none had ever managed to make a production line complete an entire assembly so effortlessly.
Usually, they could only manufacture components and then assemble them, rather than produce everything as a single integrated unit.
As a result, whether Bane Blades, Leman Russ tanks, or Basilisks, all these machines were steeped in a peculiar old industrial style, with a strange, vaguely familiar air of Steampunk Multi-Anchored Steel.
Now Cawl finally experienced the joy of seeing something without understanding it.
Iax had already noticed Cawl's presence while tinkering with the new units.
That powerful surge of data made him almost impossible to ignore.
Even though Cawl had not said a word or moved a muscle.
Simply standing there, the data constantly spilling from him and the shortwave signals he unconsciously emitted made Cawl as conspicuous as a glowing lightbulb in Iax's eyes.
Iax dearly wanted to go over and tell him.
Your thoughts are showing—the radio-wave kind. Please rein them in.
Unfortunately, the production line's data buffer was a problem. Iax did not know whether Cawl had damaged it while relocating the equipment or whether it had been faulty from the start.
Iax could not store