Wick's logic core subconsciously generated a comment: "How does this look like cultists performing a mass sacrifice?"
But his instinct for survival instantly overrode the judgment of doctrine. Knowing that his life was entirely in the opponent's hands, he ultimately deleted this fatal thought, along with the relevant binary code, from his thought matrix.
Wick forced himself to avert his gaze from the fiercely burning, foul-smelling pit. Then, he discovered even more things that prevented his cognitive modules from remaining calm.
For example, numerous spherical objects painted with red and black patterns were floating orderly in mid-air. They used built-in anti-gravity devices for transport, while precisely cutting and joining modular prefabricated parts with laser beams. A large number of sturdy fortifications were rising at a visible speed.
If it were just that, it would be fine, at most a simple AI treading the red line of the "Crimson Protocol." Many unconventional Tech-Priests or sages in the Adeptus Mechanicus dabbled in it, as the doctrine explicitly prohibited "abominable intelligence" that possessed clear self-awareness and could think and act independently.
But Wick soon discovered that the intelligence of these mechs far exceeded the scope of "simple." They could even plan optimal transport routes themselves, actively avoiding various obstacles based on real-world conditions.
What made his circuits tingle was that he personally saw a mech being petted like a pet by a passing Helldivers Soldier. The sphere then emitted a soft glow and floated up and down briskly, clearly expressing a... happy emotion.
This obvious anthropomorphic behavior was no longer simply treading the red line. Such a small sphere clearly could not accommodate a biological brain as wetware.
However, for the sake of his own life, Wick still chose to regard these things as... well, intelligent control mechs with super-high authority. Yes, that's right.
At the same time, a deeper concern began to occupy his thoughts. What kind of enemy did this strange "support" force intend to face here?
It is well known that in this cruel galaxy, the stronger the incoming support, the safer you are not. On the contrary, stronger support means a larger scale of war, and your life becomes even more precarious.
Just as Wick was worried, another thing caught his attention: several Astra Militarum Soldiers dragged several tightly bound humans from a chimera transport vehicle. These people were clearly not very conscious, with dazed and intoxicated expressions on their faces, and were dragged by the Helldivers and placed in the center of the island.
Wick didn't want to ask more, but Boni proactively walked over and said in a boastful tone, "See those people? Guess what their purpose is?"
"I... can't guess," Wick replied honestly.
"Heh heh," Boni chuckled triumphantly, "They are wild Psykers we caught in the Lower Hive area and brought here after we controlled them. The reason they are in this state is because they were injected with 'Rosemary'—a powerful agent I personally developed.
It can extremely stimulate their brains, making their consciousness unprecedentedly active, yet completely unable to control their bodies; even blinking an eyelid is a luxury."
Boni continued, "As for the purpose of bringing them here... it's simple: just let them remain conscious and constantly connected to the warp. That way, the moment they disconnect from the warp, the massive mental backlash will definitely produce a violent reaction, and their heads might even explode like watermelons!"
Boni had said so much, and Wick naturally understood. His vocalizer produced a slight electrical static due to shock: "The enemy you are about to face... can sever the connection between reality and the warp?!"
Wick scoured his logic circuits repeatedly, calling up all his databases on technology: "I have never heard rumors of such technology existing in the galaxy..."
"Perditia has it," Boni said casually, "Hmm... but Perditia's isn't large-scale, at most they are just their scouts."
"I see," Wick nodded knowingly, a heavy weight lifted from his heart. "So you obtained accurate intelligence about their invasion from this coordinate by interrogating their scouts?"
There were so many things to criticize in this sentence that Dimitry and the others didn't know how to respond for a moment. In the end, Dimitry simply chose not to explain: "When they arrive, you'll know."
Wick was clearly completely relieved. In his opinion, since these people possessed such accurate intelligence, they must have made thorough preparations. Even if these Astra Militarum seemed to disregard their own lives, these three extraordinary Tech-Priests should at least value theirs, right? As long as he was careful, he had a good chance of surviving.
Unfortunately, Wick, no matter how much he thought, could not have imagined that someone could die and resurrect. Their group indeed possessed accurate intelligence about the incoming enemy, but precisely because of this, no one thought they could return alive.
After receiving what he believed to be a reasonable explanation, Wick's hanging heart finally settled back into place for the time being. He began to observe the unit's island transformation project from the perspective of a Tech-Priest.
Then, his heart, which had just settled, rose to his throat even faster.
The entire island had become a huge construction site, with a continuous roar. The Helldivers operated various unheard-of engineering equipment with terrifying efficiency. Modular alloy walls were hoisted and pieced together like building blocks, then welded by mechs with lasers, and impregnable fortresses rose from the ground.
And in this construction frenzy, the most striking were those red and black spheres. They were like diligent swarms of bees, or like site supervisors, directing everything. They precisely coordinated the operation of every automated machine and calculated the optimal construction plan. Under their dispatch, there was not a trace of redundancy or waste in the entire transformation project.
What made Wick even more nervous were the large numbers of anti-aircraft turrets, far exceeding what a normal position would have. They were not manually controlled but possessed independent target acquisition and fire control systems.
The turrets automatically deployed, their multi-barreled cannons rotating elegantly, silently scanning every inch of the airspace, as if they were steel behemoths that had long awakened and were just waiting for their prey to arrive.
All of this... all of this equipment, materials, and machinery were transported from that small frigate in orbit.
Can one frigate carry so much?
Wick's logic circuits frantically ran, retrieving the parameters of all Imperial frigate models he knew. The conclusion was negative. This completely defied common sense!
Unless... unless this frigate had undergone a subversive modification, cutting down most of the areas necessary for crew survival and converting all space into cargo holds.
But in this situation, to maintain the normal operation of a starship, there was probably only one way left... Wick glanced at the red and black spheres floating around in the air, efficient and "lively."
He silently turned around, picked up his geological survey equipment, and chose to continue his unfinished work.