After spending quite some time resolving the matters of the four Astartes Chapters, Alex did not immediately return to Rostov, but instead made a trip to the Mariupol Forge World.
The shuttle passed through thick industrial clouds and landed on the Forge World's main platform.
As the hatch opened, the pungent smell of promethium and the hot blast of burning metal assailed him.
A squad of Skitarii, clad in red robes, lined up on both sides, their bionic eyes glinting with cold red light.
"Alex, welcome to the Mariupol Forge World," the leading Forge Master said, his voice a mechanical synthesis. Beneath his deep red robes, intricate mechanical arms were visible, and his skull-shaped metal mask was inlaid with rotating optical lenses.
Although he spoke words of welcome, the electronic tone was flat, without any fluctuation.
Alex nodded slightly; such a cold attitude was perfectly normal within the Adeptus Mechanicus.
Or rather, this was the standard attitude most Tech-Priests adopted towards outsiders.
Those Priests who showed him warmth were exceptions due to long-term cooperation.
But a keen intuition allowed Alex to perceive that beneath the Forge Master's calm exterior lay a certain indescribable repulsion.
Not overt hostility, but more like… a kind of wariness? Or perhaps an instinctive aversion.
The Forge World's ventilation system hummed lowly, mixing this subtle tension into the oil-scented air.
Alex did not delve into the reason for this emotion. In the long history of the Imperium, the relationship between the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Inquisition had always been a coexistence of cooperation and suspicion.
He stated his purpose directly, his voice still clearly audible amidst the unceasing mechanical roar of the Forge World: "I am here concerning the logistical supply for this Expeditionary Force.
The Expeditionary Force's scale has expanded, and the demand for weaponry and equipment has surged. I require the Mariupol Forge World to provide more armaments and ammunition, as well as other strategic material supplies."
The Forge Master's bionic eyes gleamed with a cold blue light, and a stable, mechanically synthesized tone emanated from beneath his metal mask: "All Forges in the Mariupol Forge World are operating at full capacity and will provide ample logistical support and equipment supply for the Expeditionary Force."
Although his tone maintained the characteristic cold detachment of the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Forge Master still pulled over a hovering servitor skull with his other mechanical hand.
This mechanical construct, crafted from pure skull and brass, projected a ghostly green light from its eyes. As the Forge Master's fingers rapidly moved through the air, sets of holographic charts unfolded in the space between the two of them.
Production progress, material reserves, and transport arrangements were displayed in precise Adeptus Mechanicus standard format, every detail shimmering with the faint glow of binary code.
Although this Forge Master's attitude was cold, he spoke with a calm fanaticism unique to Tech-Priests: "Please trust the Mariupol Forge World's piety towards the god of machines."
For the Mariupol Forge World, this Expeditionary Force's order held extraordinary significance—it was one of the few colossal orders the Forge World had received in its millennium of existence, its scale potentially setting a historical record.
Data streams surged through the Cognitohazard Array, and after precise calculations by countless Tech-Priests, a thrilling conclusion was reached: if this order could be successfully completed, the Mariupol Forge World's productivity, technological reserves, and even its standing within the Adeptus Mechanicus would undergo a qualitative leap.
By then, it would no longer be a little-known peripheral Forge World, but an industrial powerhouse capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with famous Imperial Forge Worlds like Ryza and Lucius.
It was precisely for this reason that when Alex's shuttle landed on the Forge World's core platform, what greeted his eyes was an unprecedented scene of bustling activity.
Thousands of colossal Forges spewed thick smoke, scorching molten metal surged through adamantium pipes, and the hum of mechanical arms intertwined with the roar of forging hammers to create a deafening industrial symphony.
The sky was illuminated dark red by the ceaseless glow of the furnaces, and the air was filled with the hot metallic vapor and the pungent smell of burning promethium.
In every corner of the Forge World, Tech-Priests worked with fervent zeal.
Their bionic limbs operated at high speed, data cables connected to Cognitohazard terminals, and binary prayers constantly echoed in the data streams. servitor skulls moved in groups between production lines, overseeing the precise execution of every process.
Skitarii patrols strictly guarded key facilities, ensuring that production order remained undisturbed.
The entire Forge World was like a awakened Titan beast, every gear and every piston operating at full speed for this unprecedented production frenzy.
The might of the god of machines was fully displayed at this moment—rivers of adamantium and fire surged endlessly, and binary hymns resonated with the operation of every machine.
The Tech-Priests of the Mariupol Forge World, whether they were radical proponents of technological innovation or conservative adherents to ancient dogmas, had at this moment reached a rare consensus—they must seize this once-in-a-millennium opportunity to make the Forge World's name resound throughout the galaxy.
But beneath this superficial unity, undercurrents still surged. In the shadows between the production lines, in the encrypted channels of the Data Sanctums, the debate between the two factions had never truly ceased.
They had merely temporarily set aside their doctrinal differences, like two engines temporarily synchronized, their internal gears still rotating at their own individual rhythms.
"I trust your piety towards the god of machines," Alex said slowly, his fingers inadvertently stroking the cold, gleaming Inquisitorial rosette at his waist: "But the servants of the omnissiah—"
He deliberately paused here, letting the silence amidst the mechanical roar sound exceptionally jarring. This pause was like an invisible data probe, precisely piercing the other party's most sensitive neural node.
"Past incidents involving the Adeptus Mechanicus," he continued, his voice carrying the caution and deterrence characteristic of an Inquisitor: "have led me to distrust some of your actions. I hope you can change my perception this time."
The Forge Master's bionic eyes suddenly glowed with a blinding red light, and his vocalizer beneath the metal mask suddenly erupted with unstable electrical static.
"If not for those heretics who strayed from the orthodox faith in the god of machines!" The Forge Master's voice uncharacteristically lost its mechanical steadiness, carrying clear emotional fluctuations, "Chasing after xenos technology, these things would never have happened!"
His mechanical arm twitched involuntarily, and hydraulic pipes hissed with depressurization, as if even the intricate mechanical structures within him could not suppress the rage of a religious fanatic.
Upon hearing this, Alex finally understood why the Forge Master before him had a subtle sense of repulsion towards him; it turned out he was a conservative fundamentalist.
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