Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim.

Chapter 6 The Thinker fell into deep thought.

The sound of a man-eating storm of fine particles pounding against old, abandoned buildings echoed in Casca's ears.

Not long after leaving Carax Fortress, in order to avoid the ensuing natural disasters, Fugrim suggested that they rest for a while in an abandoned factory nearby.

Walking through the abandoned factory made of steel, amidst the dense knocking sounds outside, one feels a unique sense of peace and tranquility.

Although he didn't know where Fugrim would lead him, he always followed in her footsteps.

"The workers shouldn't worry too much."

"The livelihood of Carax Fortress currently depends on factory production, and Herod is in a hurry to seize power and will not have time to deal with them."

"Once the storm has subsided, we will use the previous secret passage to sneak back into the factory and transfer the supplies needed for survival here."

"Then we can launch—"

"Wait, what are these?"

As they descended the iron ladder step by step, Kasgar, following behind Fugrim, pointed to a floor in the dark, abandoned basement.

There, large quantities of clean water, food, and various medical supplies and protective clothing were piled up. Dozens of boxes made the already cramped hut even more crowded.

Even in terms of weaponry, there were several boxes of ammunition, dozens of knives and rifles.

Outside the room, new machinery occupies about two-thirds of the space, standing out starkly against the rusty and dusty surroundings.

"Can't you think of it?"

The puzzled Kasgar met Fugrim's white chin, which was held high with pride, like a peacock spreading its tail feathers.

She was prepared.

She had long ago made thorough preparations to deal with the turmoil caused by the failed marriage alliance, internal disputes among the nobility, and power struggles.

She meticulously planned everything, from stockpiling necessary supplies in uninhabited areas far from the fortress to preparing for the subsequent counterattack.

As for the previous discussion with Casca about the next course of action...
whee.

That was just to tease you.

The perfect Fugrim had already planned countless feasible contingency plans and would choose the most suitable one based on how things turned out.

The computational planning capabilities of the Primarch are far beyond the reach of a mere mortal like Kasgar.

Seeing that Kasgar was somewhat embarrassed, Fugrim comforted him:
"Although it was somewhat reckless to flee without preparation, our preparations regarding the climate, escape routes, and future counterattack strategies were also quite rudimentary."

"But as an ordinary person, being able to guess Herod's trick and provide a corresponding solution is already quite impressive."

Pat your head, pat your head.

"After all, you promised to 'save' me."

Fugrim pronounced the word very heavily.

That's true though.

But why does it always feel like a mockery?
Kasgar thought to himself as he was being helped into his protective suit by Fugrim rubbing his head.

Ugh.

Bad woman.

And Casca is about to be manipulated by this wicked woman.

I can only say that I was just unlucky.

He was assigned the role of a rare perfectionist genius among the Primarchs.

If it were a different, slightly less intelligent Primarch, he might have been able to use the opportunity to become the other party's strategist or think tank, thereby gaining their favor.

For example, Angron, Angron.

And there's Angron.

Even Ruth!
"What do we do now?"

"Casca asked helplessly."

We can't possibly fight our way back with just this equipment.

While it is feasible given the Primarch's combat capabilities, large-scale armed conflict could very well cause irreversible damage to the already fragile vault ecosystem.

If the enemy chooses to destroy the entire fortress in a suicidal attack, all survivors will be exposed to a severe radiation storm, with unimaginable consequences.

"We need to fix this first."

"Forgrim answered."

"You might not believe it, but currently only about 10% of the systems in Fort Carax are functioning normally."

“I have studied the system’s operating pipeline before.”

"In ancient times, this was the power station of Carax. Most of the functions inside the fortress depended on the energy supply from here."

After changing into his protective suit, Fugrim approached the machine and explained to Kasgar while repairing it.

"Repairing this place is equivalent to mastering all the functions of the fortress."

Fugrim took some parts from the equipment next to him and examined them closely.

"Give me the mechanical parts from the α-24."

“Previously, the fortress operated using internal emergency energy production equipment. If we can repair the power plant and restore power, then most of the fortress's system functions will be back under our control.”

"Including fire control, riot control and surveillance systems."

As he spoke, several discordant red alarms suddenly flashed from the instrument in front of him. "Another error."

"Casca, give me the mechanical clamps on the Σ-3."

Click.

As the final green light signaling the connection appeared, Fugrim wiped away the fine beads of sweat from his fair forehead.

Repairing the equipment takes a considerable amount of time, but fortunately, they have plenty of time right now.

"Phew. Alright, now all that's left is to activate it and grant it permissions."

Their gazes fell upon an old computer—or, in this world's parlance, the "Thinker"—connected by countless mechanical cables.

[Starting up.1%]

[Starting up.2%]

She went to great lengths to reactivate the old Thinker.

Judging from the countless newly erected machines and supplies nearby, she had tried to sneak here a long time ago to repair the Thinker.

"I originally planned to restore the power supply after the marriage was over, but Herod ruined the plan, so I had to resort to this method to forcibly gain control of the fortress."

As he spoke, Fugrim's hands flew across the buttons on the Thinker.

It was so fast that even Casca could only see a partial afterimage.

"You did all of this by yourself?"

"of course!"

“Actually, it wasn’t that complicated,” she replied with a hint of pride to Casca’s question. “The main problem was that Chemos was missing a lot of key materials, otherwise it could have been repaired much earlier.”

"You would never guess how I used extremely low-quality materials."

"Casca."

Fugrim, who had been talking non-stop, suddenly stopped.

She glanced around, making sure they were alone, then leaned close to Casca's ear and whispered:

Praise me, quickly.

"what?"

"Praise me, right now. Say whatever you want."

In people's minds, Forgrim is often a composed, elegant, powerful, and wise human demigod.

Only Casca was fortunate enough to glimpse her true form hidden beneath her perfect exterior when they were alone.

Kaska smiled knowingly upon seeing this.

"Ah, very well, great Fugrim, the most brilliant engineer in all of Chemos!"

Baby, baby, you are a baby who is very good at building machines.

[Starting up.99%]

".Eh?"

Everything was going smoothly according to Fugrim's plan.

However, it seems that the Thinker is currently experiencing problems.

[Gene recognition error!]

Please enter the correct human genes in the administrator privilege activation section.

Looking at the prompt on the Thinker's display screen, Fugrim's expression was full of embarrassment.

"There must be something wrong with it, preventing it from recognizing me."

"Um... I'll borrow your genes for a bit."

As if to cover up his embarrassment, Fugrim lowered his head, quickly drew some blood from Kasga's outstretched arm, put it into a sample bottle, and placed it into the corresponding groove.

After a moment's hesitation, the thinker resumed the reading phase.

"Phew, this should be fine now."

It's actually normal that it couldn't be recognized before.

After all, the Primarch is a product of the Emperor's subspace experiments, and it is still a long way from being accessible to humanity.

Those who pondered the old night era might not even be able to identify their genes.

But a normal human like Casca is different—

"drop!"

The screen flashed a crazy red light.

[Gene recognition error!]

Please enter the correct information in the administrator privilege activation field.

Countless garbled characters instantly filled the entire screen.

　The signing process is currently underway.