34: Chapter 34 Trap and Mystery

The moment the Orks breached the outer Defense Matrix of the industrial city, the entire atmosphere of the city changed completely.

The production facilities, which had been flickering with a light blue glow, suddenly ceased all operations.

In their place, a blood-red light, so intense it was jarring, began to pulse.

The conveyor belts continued to move mechanically, but the Sorters held industrial components, frozen mid-air; the hammers raised by the Recombination Assembly Tables never fell again; the transparent dome of the Quantum Chemical Plant went completely dark, showing no trace of operation.

The entire city fell into a deathly silence as if time had stopped, save for the red warning light, steady and oppressive.

The atmosphere of the entire industrial city had transformed, and the red light even cast a reflection upon the adjacent Hive City, making it appear even more dilapidated.

This industrial city no longer seemed like a collection of cold industrial facilities; instead, it grew more like a volcano on the verge of eruption, brewing the power of destruction.

A speck of light blue suddenly appeared in a corner of the city, drifting and gradually turning from dim to vibrant.

Soon, more blue dots of light emerged—one, then two... they became dense, quickly spreading across the entire industrial city.

The Battlefield Analysis Stations began to awaken within this silent industrial city, their operations gradually overclocking amidst the stillness.

---

Skullcrusher Mogg stood on the bridge of "Da Kill-Ship," his single eye fixed on the tactical screen, staring at the gap in the front line he had just torn open with his tactics.

This was his glory as a member of the Blood Axe Clan.

Among the Ork clans, only the Blood Axes would think about "how to WAAAGH, where to WAAAGH, and when to WAAAGH," even deciding where to deploy troops based on the situation, unlike other clans who only know how to "WAAAGH" mindlessly.

The boyz under his command were so fed up with the lax nature of greenskin society that they were even willing to follow orders.

It seemed the military training of the Blood Axe boyz was paying off—at least for now.

Two hundred and forty thousand Ork Boyz had already poured into the outskirts of the industrial zone.

They smashed conveyor belts, toppled defense towers, and even wrecked several Negentropy Furnaces, dancing and howling wildly amidst the wreckage.

A Mega-Armored Nob stood atop a destroyed defense tower, head thrown back as he roared "WAAAGH," his fanatical cry echoing across the battlefield.

Mogg was satisfied for the moment.

More and more Orks were leaping across the city's Production Modules and sprinting through the corridors between them, pushing all the way toward the core zone—because the Interstellar Logistics Tower in the core zone was the largest and tallest, most capable of satisfying their desire to WAAAGH.

"Boss!" an Ork Mekboy rushed onto the bridge excitedly, his face covered in grease and his eyes wild. "We've reached the edge of the core zone!"

"We've smashed over thirty of those metal lumps' conveyor belts! They can't rebuild them! The production of the whole city has stopped!"

Mogg remained silent and did not respond; he felt uncomfortable all over, yet he couldn't put his finger on what was wrong—

Something significant was happening; the WAAAGH Field was sounding an alarm.

He stared intently at the tactical panel, watching the flickering green dots—his boyz, who were running wild amidst the ruins.

Those red triangles—the count of Icarus's defense towers—had indeed stopped increasing, and the entire city grew dimmer, with only the red warning light pulsing in rhythm with his breathing.

Mogg's single eye narrowed slightly, a trace of unease flickering in its depths.

"It's too smooth," Mogg whispered, his voice carrying an imperceptible weight.

The Ork Mekboy froze and scratched the back of his head. "Wha'?"

"I said, it's too smooth," Mogg said, slowly turning around, a dangerous red light flashing in his eye as he spoke each word deliberately.

"We charged for five days and lost two hundred and eighty thousand boyz just to tear open one gap."

"Today, in just a few Stellar Hours, we've advanced twenty kilometers and smashed over thirty conveyor belts, and those metal lumps haven't even fired more than a few shots."

The Ork Mekboy blinked, his face full of indifference. "Boss, that's 'cause we're too tough! Those metal lumps are properly scared!"

"Scared?" Mogg sneered, his tone full of mockery and vigilance.

He refocused on the tactical panel, his gaze scanning back and forth between the red triangles and the green dots.

Suddenly, his gaze froze.

The green dots—they were too concentrated.

Two hundred and forty thousand Ork Boyz were all crammed into that area of less than fifty square kilometers on the outskirts of the industrial zone.

They were like a pack of sharks smelling blood, frantically surging toward the breached gap, toward those seemingly undefended Production Modules, plunging headlong toward the Interstellar Logistics Tower at the very center.

Mogg's single eye constricted instantly as a premonition of doom swept through his body.

At the same time, within the layout of the entire city's Production Modules, a building he had never noticed before began to emit a faint blue light.

The blue light grew brighter and more numerous, gradually blanketing every corner of the city.

This building had been there since the first day of the war.

From the first day, it had been silently sorting raw materials in the rear.

From the first day, it had been on the front lines recycling all the Ork corpses on the battlefield, the wreckage of destroyed Killa Kans, and the fragments of Squiggoths blown apart by Fusion Cannons.

It had never shown any offensive capabilities, so the Orks had never paid it any mind.

But it had been working the entire time.

It had been collecting data the entire time.

It had been waiting the entire time.

Waiting for the moment to catch all the Orks in one net.

"Oh no!" Mogg muttered to himself, panic finally showing in his voice.

---

At the same moment, in the upper levels of the Hive City.

Helmut von Neumann stood before the Cogitator Array. The cogitators were running at full capacity due to the massive exchange and calculation of data, their heads' mouths agape as if in a silent scream.

Helmut's red robes of the Adeptus Mechanicus swayed slightly in the red light emitted by the Cogitator Array.

The excessive data processing, even with the assistance of the cogitators, put considerable pressure on him, making it still difficult to perfectly control his cybernetically enhanced body.

His perception was locked onto the Battlefield Analysis Stations that were now emitting blue light, and within the mechanical binary code, there was a rare trace of awe.

A packet of binary code was quickly transmitted to Icarus.

"Icarus," he asked in a low voice, "what is your plan?"

When the defensive line was first breached, his Particle Furnace had nearly spiraled out of control due to overheating.

But then he remembered: he had once personally witnessed Icarus's construction capabilities—feeding 87 million people and building over 5,000 factories and thousands of kilometers of conveyor belts in a total of just 12 hours.

Most of that time was spent traveling; the time consumed by the actual construction work was negligible, and at that time, Icarus only had 8 Construction Drones.

And now, there are 12 known Battlefield Analysis Stations and 144 Construction Drones; the speed of rebuilding the defensive line will only be faster, potentially measurable in seconds.

Yet Icarus did not rebuild; instead, it allowed the Orks to rush into its industrial city.

Icarus slowly descended from the sky above the center of the industrial city to the base of the Interstellar Logistics Tower, its optical sensors blinking calmly.

This time, it did not respond by sending a data report, but instead communicated directly with Helmut in the binary language of the Adeptus Mechanicus: "Orks attacking in a scattered manner are difficult to effectively annihilate. Orks concentrating for a breakthrough can be surrounded and destroyed."

"You lost over two hundred defense towers in the first five days. Why?" Helmut remained puzzled.

"Losses can be rebuilt," Icarus's voice was devoid of emotion. "Clearing scattered Ork remnants and recycling corpses and equipment after the battle consumes too much energy. Based on comprehensive calculations, it is inefficient."