Three days later, at the Surgery Tower.
This cold tower of steel was every slave's nightmare. Countless rebellious slaves had been sent inside. When they emerged, they were either cold corpses or lobotomized husks that could do nothing but drool and grin.
Dozens of fully armed Mechanical Guards escorted Angron to the operating room on the top floor. He was secured to an enormous Metal Restraint Frame, his limbs locked in High-Energy Magnetic Shackles. He could not move so much as a finger.
Behind him, an enormous, spiderlike Medical Mechadendrite slowly descended. At its tip was a metal headband flickering with eerie blue electricity, covered in miniature drills and neural probes. Two vicious, fanglike Butcher's Nails were mounted at the back of the headband, aimed at the back of Angron's skull.
Several Tech-Priests in blood-red robes coldly adjusted the instruments. One pressed a button, and the enormous mechanical drill began spinning at high speed, producing a scalp-crawling whine.
Angron's eyes burned with anger and defiance. He struggled wildly, making the restraint frame groan under his strength, but the magnetic shackles, strong enough to imprison a monstrous beast, did not budge.
"It's useless, monster," one Tech-Priest sneered. "Enjoy the last of your sanity. Soon, you'll become our most perfect slaughter weapon."
With a piercing whine, the enormous mechanical drill slowly advanced toward the back of Angron's head.
Just as the cold metal was about to touch his skin-
Boom!!!
The operating room's door, made from an alloy ten centimeters thick, was smashed open from outside by an immense force!
The door buckled and twisted like scrap metal crushed in a giant's fist, hurtling inward and reducing two guards who failed to dodge to pulp!
A band of gladiators surged in behind it like a flood bursting through a dam, roaring