Vroom—
The twin engines of the Underhive Joyride finally cut out. The exhaust pipes, having been under high-load operation for an extended period, were now emitting the rhythmic popping sounds of metal contracting.
Gamma-9 and a large group of workers swarmed the vehicle. They stared at the armored truck—riddled with bullet holes and still draped with several unidentifiable scraps of flesh—with eyes full of profound awe.
Andy jumped down, his metal feet hitting the concrete floor with a dull, heavy thud.
"Unload it."
Andy pointed to the massive cryogenic stasis pod lashed to the rear flatbed. "Be careful. This is a precious treasure."
The workers scrambled to lift the stasis pod. Through the thick, frost-covered glass, the completely crystallized "Amethyst Man" lay silent. Deep within his chest, that bright red heart was still writhing with agonizing slowness.
"Wha... what is this?" A timid worker caught a glimpse and nearly dropped his crowbar in fright. To an inhabitant of the Underhive, a human sprouting crystals was undoubtedly the victim of some malicious curse.
"Emergency rations. Want a bite?" Andy fabricated a random excuse, not bothering to explain molecular restructuring and genetic mutation to a group of illiterates. "Get it to the second sub-level."
The second sub-level of the vault was the area Andy had previously designated for the Plague Doctors. Since reaching a cooperative agreement, Andy had allowed them to build a professional cold-chain storage zone there. It was originally intended for storing antibiotic raw materials, active bacterial strains, and various biological samples. The cooling equipment utilized industrial-grade compressors provided by the doctors, offering excellent refrigeration and an independent backup power supply.
Andy directed the workers to push the pod into the furthest reaches of Vault 3. Vault 3 was originally empty and the smallest in size, making it perfect for confining this dangerous element.
"Set the temperature to minus fifty degrees," Andy commanded as he operated the control panel.
At this temperature, biological functions would be suppressed to the absolute limit, and that stubborn heart would enter a state of deep hibernation. Theoretically, it was no different from being dead now.
However, Andy did not rush to leave. Physical laws told him the thing couldn't move. But... the Warhammer universe was a place where physical laws frequently took a leave of absence—especially when it involved unreasonable creatures like the Tyranids.
After some thought, Andy still felt uneasy. What if it survived?
To be safe, he called Ball over.
"Set up a Heavy Stubber at the entrance of this cold storage unit."
"Connect it to the automated sentry system."
"Set the fire-control logic: If any unauthorized biological entity emerges from the inside, open fire immediately. Don't stop until it's minced meat."
Andy didn't even plan to leave time for identification; as soon as the door opened, whether it was a man or a ghost, he wanted two thousand rounds fired first. For a freak that possessed Genestealer genes and had been mutated by a high-energy physics field, no amount of caution was too much.
If it stayed dead, it would remain a specimen. If it lived and he lacked energy later, he'd toss it into the original reactor as high-energy fuel.
Having arranged this ticking time bomb, Andy returned to the main hall.
The equipment stripped from the Cleaner squad was laid out in a row on the ground. First were the twelve Hellguns. Their principle was similar to ordinary lasguns, but the power supply was entirely different. Ordinary lasguns used magazine batteries that ran out after a few hundred shots and had limited power.
The Hellgun, however, was connected to a twenty-kilogram back-mounted high-energy power pack. This increased the energy density of its laser beams by more than five times. Where a normal lasgun might only leave a black scorch mark on carapace armor, a Hellgun could burn right through it—it could even pose a threat to Space Marine Power Armor.
Of course, the price was obvious. The barrel life was extremely short; if heat dissipation wasn't managed, the barrel would melt after a few hundred shots. Furthermore, the battery pack was deathly heavy; anyone without sufficient physical endurance would be exhausted after a five-kilometer run.
"Gamma-9." Andy picked up a Hellgun and inspected the lens array. Fortunately, while the casings were worn, the core components were intact. "Pick out the twelve best marksmen among your men."
"Form a special operations squad called the 'Storm Squad.' Issue these guns to them."
Gamma-9's single eye lit up. He recognized these items; they were high-tier goods usually reserved for the private guards of Great Houses or the Inquisition's Stormtroopers.
"Archmagos! This... this is too valuable!"
"What's so valuable about it? They're just tools," Andy tossed the gun to him. "These guns drain power fast. Make sure they fully charge the batteries before every mission. And tell them not to hold down the trigger; these barrels are worth more than their lives."
Next was the armor. A pile of black Carapace Armour shards sat to one side. They were made of high-strength ceramic plates composite with plasteel—a level of defense incomparable to the stamped steel plates Andy was currently producing. Though Andy had punched through the breastplates of several, other components like pauldrons and helmets were mostly intact.
"Ball, these are yours," Andy pointed to the pile. "Use the industrial rubber we just produced as a backing to glue these ceramic plates back together. It shouldn't be a problem. For the shattered parts, patch them with steel plates. It might be ugly, but the defense won't be much worse. Once repaired, issue them to the Storm Squad."
An elite squad wielding Hellguns and wearing patched-up Carapace Armour. With this configuration, paired with Andy's beloved Joyride, they could basically walk sideways through the Underhive.
Beyond weapons, there were significant gains in materials. The wreckage of the armored vehicles stripped by Gamma-9's team arrived last due to the workload.
"Cut these plates off," Andy patted the armored plating still smelling of scorched metal. "These, these... oh, and the engine block, that's good stuff too. It's a waste to melt them all down; just cut them to shape and use them as add-on armor for the Joyrides. Use the scraps to make gun shields for the Heavy Stubbers."
The essence of "farming" was to consume everything, leaving nothing behind.
After distributing all the hardware, Andy was left with only one thing. The silver metal briefcase with the Helios Group logo. Inside was the "Secret" that the transport had risked everything to deliver. It was also Andy's greatest spoil of war.
Andy carried the case into his sealed core workshop and placed it on the workbench. The case used biometric locks, but to an Iron Man, such locks were mere decorations. Andy's finger transformed into a drill, boring a hole at the lock cylinder, and then a probe extended inside to short-circuit the control logic.
Click. The case popped open.
Inside lay a heavy, black data storage core. This type of core was typically used to preserve vital large-scale industrial blueprints, possessing extreme resistance to interference and corrosion. Andy didn't hesitate, plugging his finger's data interface directly into it.
A massive stream of data flooded in. This time, there was no self-destruct sequence, no dead man's switch. This was "cold data" intended for archival backup.
As the decryption progress bar hit 100%, a detailed technical document expanded across Andy's retina. The title was simple, yet it caused Andy's CPU fan speed to spike instantly.
[Project Codename: Ancient Black Box][Core Equipment: Molecular Matter Reconstructor][Current Status: Abnormal Energy Field Resonance Frequency]
Andy skimmed through the data logs. The Helios Group hadn't lied; they had indeed unearthed a relic from the Dark Age of Technology. But instead of repairing it, their greed for maximum output speed led them to forcibly remove the safety limiters. They had tried to use an overloaded energy field to further tear apart molecular bonds.
The result was a distortion of the energy field inside the reconstructor. Instead of generating pure raw materials according to preset templates, it began to randomly seize surrounding carbon-based organisms, using their bodies as raw material to forcibly restructure them into those purple silicate crystals.
"Those idiots..." Andy looked at the error codes highlighted in red. "They ruined all the good stuff."
However, at the end of this error-filled log, Andy saw something unexpected. A hidden folder contained an "Emergency Protocol" written by the Helios Group to control the runaway machine. The protocol detailed the exact coordinates of where the reconstructor was currently located and the control logic for the defense systems surrounding it.
Even though the factory had exploded and collapsed... just like the black box in the hydroponic farm, the core structure of the machine could not be destroyed by such a collapse. No. To say "destroyed" was an understatement—it would be difficult to even scuff it.
It was likely buried deep within those ruins, silently emitting radiation. And this data was the key to opening the doors of that ruin.