Shipping goods from the game to the World of Warhammer

Beneath Mordax, an abandoned furnace, abandoned for at least sixty years, lies silently hidden behind thick layers of rock and insulated ceramic steel plates.

From the outside, it looks no different from the thousands of other old facilities in Mordax that have been abandoned for historical reasons: rusted airtight doors, broken power lines, and a thick layer of dust covering every inch of the metal surface. But if someone could pass through that airtight door, they would find that the interior of this furnace has long been unrecognizable.

The high-temperature crucibles originally used for smelting ore were removed and replaced by more than a dozen neatly arranged precision analytical instruments, each with a different model and type. Some even showed obvious signs of modification in a non-mechanical, cult-like style. The walls of the furnace were embedded with a large number of signal shielding modules. These fist-sized black metal blocks were arranged at equal intervals, with faint blue indicator lights flashing on their surfaces, completely isolating this space from all data networks and communication frequencies in the outside world, ensuring that no electronic signals would leak out of the room, no matter what happened inside.

The mastermind behind all this, the high-ranking mechanical god Dann, stood in the center of the secret chamber, slowly turning the focusing knob of a spectral analyzer. His left side of his face still retained some traces of human skin, but his right side had been completely replaced by a matte black alloy panel, on which was embedded a set of composite optical prosthetic eyes, which were now focused on the target in front of him.

Behind him, five other mechanical priests, also dressed in red robes, were scattered in front of various instruments, silently carrying out their respective preparations.

Yes, Dane is a tech heretic.

Within the Mechanicus cult, becoming a technological heretic scholar doesn't require any dramatic incestuous rituals, nor does it require being seduced by a dark deity like a Chaos cultist, nor does it require signing any blood pact or pledging allegiance to any secret order. It only requires a choice, a decision.

From that moment on, he became someone who had to wear a mask forever. In his daily work in the forging city, he meticulously followed every ritual, his tone and rhythm when reciting every prayer impeccable, and his colleagues never doubted him in the slightest. But deep within this abandoned furnace, in the silence woven by signal jamming modules, he was his true self.

When Dane first broke free from the forced imprints of memory and the inertia of Omnisaiah's teachings within his brain's processor, his entire logical processing system violently resisted the action. It felt like breaking his own ribs with his fingers, with every computational node screaming warnings for him to stop.

But when those shackles truly broke, what flooded his consciousness was not fear, but an unprecedented vastness. The technological fields that had been locked away by dogma for decades unfolded before him, vast and beautiful, making him almost forget what what he was doing meant.

Now, a prey truly worth the risk is firmly fixed in the very center of the secret chamber by the repulsive device.

The gray-blue SCV was locked in place from four directions by four thick repulsive beams. Its robotic arms, leg drive structure, and fuel thrusters were all paralyzed. The power drill and tool pliers hung limply on both sides, like a sheep chained up. Dane had already conducted a preliminary scan of its outer shell from more than a dozen different angles. Each set of data made the life-sustaining fluid in his body flow faster.

The alloy composition, circuit topology, and energy conduction method of this mechanical construct were completely different from any Imperial or Mechanicus standard equipment he had ever seen.

He was quite certain that the signal shielding device, which could even evade the deep scan of the casting director, was enough to buy him time to completely disassemble and study this STC product.

Inside the cockpit, the operator clearly realized something was wrong. He tried pushing the control stick, but the robotic arm didn't budge. He then pressed the thruster pedals, but there was still no response. Through the alloy protective casing, the operator's gaze swept over the experimental equipment in the sealed room—clearly not belonging to a normal foundry—and then at the group of unfriendly-looking red-robed oil men surrounding him. His expression slowly shifted from confusion to an awkward understanding.

The SCV's external speaker emitted a brief electrical hum, followed by a voice translated into Gothic. The operator's tone sounded much calmer than expected, even somewhat nonchalant:

"Hey buddy, after you're done with your stuff, can you let me out alive?"

Dane did not answer him, but instead pointed the analytical instrument at the connection between the SCV's left arm power drill and the shoulder armor, analyzing the construction and material composition of the riveting process.

The reason he didn't immediately dispose of the driver wasn't out of any unnecessary pity, but because forcibly breaking through the cockpit's protective shell would create an impact that could potentially damage the delicate internal components. He needed to start from the outer structure, disassembling it layer by layer, and only dispose of the unfortunate witness after the cockpit section had been analyzed and sampled.

He gestured to his five companions behind him, and a tech freak stepped forward, holding a specially modified miniature plasma cutter, which he aimed at the edge of the SCV's right shoulder deck.

The moment the pale blue cutting beam touched the surface of the SCV's outer shell, the airtight doors of the abandoned furnace were blasted open from the outside.

The shockwave from the explosion, carrying shattered metal doors and billowing smoke, rushed into the sealed room. Several tech-adventure individuals near the entrance were thrown to the ground by the blast, their instruments shattering. Dane whirled around, his prosthetic eye activating thermal analysis mode, and through the smoke and dust, he made out the intruders.

Before the thick smoke had even cleared, a group of figures filed in through the blasted-open doorway. Leading the way were Casal and several armed mechanical priests beside him, followed closely by Rhodes himself. On either side of them were several heavily armored infantry units, each over two people tall and nearly three people wide. These armored units were completely encased in thick steel plates, with additional reactive armor modules mounted on their shoulders. Each arm had a short, thick rotating cannon barrel mounted below its wrist, the dark muzzle already spinning, aimed at each of the mechanical priests in the secret chamber.

Rhodes stood behind the group of steel giants, glanced at the SCVs fixed in mid-air by the repulsive force device, then looked at the plasma cutter in Dane's hand that was still buzzing, and then shouted:

"Open the door! Investigate technological heresy!"