As the hangar doors parted, Gauss beheld a massive construct.
It was as towering as a mountain and as awe-inspiring as a vast abyss, slowly gliding out of the hangar, propelled by a few insignificant plumes of flame.
The thrusters emitting those trails of fire were small, only the size of ordinary land-transport trucks, positioned on the construct’s shoulders, flanks, and legs.
Compared to the colossal body they were pushing, these thrusters were laughably tiny—no more than ants trying to shake a giant tree.
Terrifyingly, they actually shook it, and the acceleration was by no means slow.
Ultraviolet light crept slowly up the seamless, silver-white armor plating of the exterior, reflecting off its shoulders in brilliant, dazzling glints.
Like standard Imperial Titans, this construct was humanoid.
The only difference was that this Titan from the Dark Age of Technology did not carry a cathedral on its back, nor did it bear the iconic Imperial Aquila or any skull designs representing human purity.
The difference lay entirely in their design philosophies.
The design philosophy of Imperial Titans focused on only two dimensions: firepower and defense.
Mobility was solved via short-range teleportation devices and brute force—their strategy boiled down to blowing you away before you could blow them away, and ensuring you couldn’t pierce their armor before they annihilated you.
This single-minded pursuit of raw firepower and heavy plating meant that whether it was the massive Emperor-class or the relatively nimble Warhound-class, Imperial Titans always exuded a sense of ponderous sluggishness in both appearance and movement, even if their actual speed wasn’t slow.
In contrast, the design philosophy of the Cybrex Warform was one of extreme, almost absurdly rational utilitarianism.
Not a single centimeter of armor on the entire construct was redundant, and not a single joint was left unprotected.
Weapon hardpoints were packed into every viable combat area—shoulders, arms, head, waist, and knees.
It was a manifestation of cold, ruthless efficiency.
If an Imperial Titan was an unadorned heavy tank, rolling forth to crush everything in its path, braving a storm of incoming fire to dominate the battlefield…
…then the Cybrex Warform was more like a flawlessly engineered machine of war.
Retaining just enough armor for defense, it channeled all available energy from its engines to maximize offensive output, leaving not even a sliver of redundancy for unforeseen contingencies.
Such a design…
“Exquisite…”
Amid his ecstasy lay a touch of happy frustration: the sheer size and number of the warforms rendered the transport ships prepared by the Adeptus Mechanicus completely useless.
Faya’s resources were limited.
With the current capabilities of the Adeptus Mechanicus, they could barely transport small Warhound-class Titans, whereas the specifications of the Cybrex Warform far exceeded that tier.
The only things that could surpass it in size and firepower were the legendary, pinnacle class of Titans: the Emperor-class.
In other words, the specifications of the Cybrex Warform were roughly equivalent to the second-largest model, just below the Emperor-class: the Imperial Warlord-class Titan.
This kind of ultimate weapon, usually deployed only in Apocalypse-level campaigns, was something even the Tech-Priests of Forge Worlds rarely encountered, let alone these backwater tech-adepts on Faya.
Currently, only Gauss managed to retain a shred of sanity amidst the collective euphoria.
He did not rush full-throttle toward the massive constructs outside the hangar like the other transport ships in the fleet, constructs they couldn’t possibly move or transport.
For he knew that they simply lacked the transport capacity to bring even a single warform back to the surface of Faya.
And from the open hangar doors, more warforms were still being deployed.
Reasonably speaking, Gauss should return to whip the mines of the southern continent into a frenzy of overproduction, spend several years constructing a massive transport vessel capable of carrying Warlord-class Titans, and then return here to retrieve the warforms in batches.
But in the face of these breathtaking, beautiful machines, he didn’t want to wait a single second, let alone several years.
“If the Governor would allow me to dock the fleet inside the hangar, I could establish a research station right within the hulls. As for the defense system… I, I swear on my life, in the name of the Omnissiah, we will never leave the hangar to enter other sections! Yes, this argument should convince the Governor…”
Intense desire granted this cogboy formidable initiative.
The moment the idea struck him, he immediately patched a communication line through to the Governor’s manor.
And, as expected, he was rejected.
Under Grey Wind’s stubborn insistence that she “didn’t want anyone else coming inside,” Russell denied Gauss’s request.
However, as if prepared for this, Russell offered an alternative—he sent the schematics for a space fortress directly to the *Perpetual Gear*.
As for the origin of these blueprints, they were once again attributed to the Dark Age of Technology.
The Governor suggested that Gauss establish a massive space station on Faya’s orbit, combining a research base and a fleet anchorage.
And by sheer coincidence, the first phase of this space fortress’s construction had already been completed in orbit.
The skeletal frame of this space fortress possessed incredibly high compatibility. This story is hosted at g.com.
The Adeptus Mechanicus would only need to perform minor retrofits on their transport ships, warships, and exploratory vessels, allowing them to dock their hulls directly onto the completed orbital framework as modular components with various functions.
This would complete the construction of the star fortress in the shortest time possible.
Once the star fortress was built, they could load the warforms directly into the station’s much larger hangars.
This was undoubtedly the fastest way to acquire the facilities needed to study these ancient Titans.
Though he felt a vague sense of suspicion that something wasn’t quite right, Gauss enthusiastically relayed the proposal to the other Tech-Priests.
After a brief, uncontentious discussion, the proposal passed unanimously.
Subsequently, the transport fleet led by the *Perpetual Gear* turned back, racing toward the star fortress’s skeletal frame in Faya’s orbit.
Meanwhile, countless tech-adepts in the starports on the surface were busy retrofitting vessels preparing to launch.
The Adeptus Mechanicus threw their entire weight behind this colossal undertaking.
The orbital station’s construction, which had only just begun, was suddenly fast-tracked to the brink of completion.
While orbit buzzed with activity, on the ground, Russell went about his daily duties as the Planetary Governor.
These tedious administrative tasks demanded very little energy from a psyker of his caliber, yet they projected the image of a dedicated leader.
He spent his days slacking off while keeping up appearances, and his nights telling stories to Grey Wind.
The peaceful days passed one by one in an orderly routine.
Thanks to the diligent efforts of the Tech-Priests and tech-adepts, after six Terran months, the *Seeker* space station finally completed its final assembly.
The station’s core frame and power systems were provided by Russell.
The remaining primary modules were divided into three levels: upper, middle, and lower.
The middle level housed the sprawling hangar modules, the upper level served as the living and research quarters for the Adeptus Mechanicus personnel, and the lower level featured a deep-space anchorage for fleet mooring.
The Cybrex Warforms operated in combat units of three.
Over the past four years, six such cohorts had been manufactured, totaling eighteen units.
They were now systematically docked within the hangar modules of the *Seeker* space station.