Naturally, Lox had no idea that his muttering had made Guilliman sneeze several times in a row.
He had not been joking. By now, he had truly put down roots in the Five Hundred Worlds, and as his operations spread wider and wider, Lox increasingly felt overwhelmed.
The mass production of mechanical equipment on Mustafar, research into untouchables, the progress of three different types of starship being built in the planetary shipyards, and the time and energy needed to search the vast database of the Red Alert for suitable relic technologies that could actually be put to use.
Not to mention that his main body was currently on Sotha, studying Pharos technology from the Necrons alongside Warsmith Dantioch.
From what he knew of the Warsmith, Dantioch seemed to be planning to crack the captured Necron bodies.
As a small gift from Trazyn, Lox had collected a large number of Necron samples on Sotha, including Necron Warriors, Immortals, Skorpekh Destroyers, and Canoptek Scarabs.
Oh, right—the Chief who had sent him to this era had also used the holographic projection aboard the Red Alert to fake his death, leaving him with the task of gathering the missing branches of the Red Alert's technology tree.
That old man isn't still alive somewhere, is he? Secretly watching me work myself half to death?
At that thought, Lox shuddered involuntarily. After seeing so much, he no longer jumped easily to conclusions about anything.
After all, there were simply too many absurd things in the universe. No matter how small the probability, as long as it was not zero, one could basically conclude that it was bound to happen.
Once a possibility existed, it was only a matter of time.
Lox followed Dorlo into the heavily guarded fortress. Although he could have relied on the miraculous