Warhammer: Striving to Be a Grinding Man

Chapter 167 The Gate of Expedition

The corridor lights switched from daytime mode to dusk mode. Cohen's office was on the top floor of a side chapel in the temple. Twilight seeped in from outside the dome, casting a thin, greyish-white light on the terracotta floor. He sat behind his desk, three documents spread out in front of him, the top one stamped with the double-headed eagle seal of the Armageddon War Zone.

The door slid open. Vera walked in, clutching a data tablet. The data transceiver array on the back of her head was almost invisible in the light, only flashing briefly at the edge of her hairline when she turned her head to the side. She paused in the doorway—

Slide the door open completely and then step in.

"The meeting minutes have been entered into the archiving system." She placed the data panel on the table without sitting down, "but the content involving the boundaries of the agreement has not been included in the archiving sequence."

Cohen leaned back in his chair. "Go on."

Vera sat down opposite her, her hands resting on her knees. The data transceiver array at the back of her head was something Cohen had personally designed for her—

The adamantine base precisely meshed with the skull's cross-section. In standby mode, the array retracted, flashing only briefly at the hairline when she turned her head. When activated, six extremely thin data antennas extended from the base, unfolding into a fan shape in mid-air. It could transmit and receive electronic signals on a light-year scale, with virtually no blind spots within the Galos galaxy. Her other physical modifications—bone density and muscle fiber endurance increased several times over, and a bio-energy reactor—remained unchanged in appearance. She retained a basic human silhouette, as Vera herself had requested.

She flipped to the data panel and swiped to the first page. Simultaneously, the transceiver array on the back of her head connected to the office's data link, and the meeting minutes were displayed on the terminal in front of Cohen.

Regarding the scheduling and prioritization of the two expeditions, the senior technical priest proposed a systematic inquiry. The core questions are threefold.

O

She paused to make sure Cohen was listening.

"First, the supporting capacity of the industrial system. It has only been two years since Gallos withdrew from Amigiddon, and the damage record of Invernus has not yet been fully archived. The production lines for spare parts in the underground industrial zone for the Wangshu Shipyard, the civilian shipyard, and the Lucis orders are scheduled to cover several standard years to come. If another expedition is launched during this window of opportunity—even if the time schedules do not overlap—the continuous occupation of resources will still exist."

She turned a page. "The logistical arrangements for the Gologosa expedition will consume a significant amount of transport capacity, causing expedition supplies in Garros's inventory to be continuously drawn out. If the White Scar expedition launches within the originally scheduled window, there will be a shortfall of at least three months in the inventory replenishment cycle. The calculations from the computing hub indicate that at the latest, at least one Goliath-class industrial ship and two Goliath-class foundry ships will need to be built within two standard years to fill the gap."

Cohen turned to the page of the document. "What do they say about the difference between industrial ships and foundry ships?"

"The Goliath-class heavy industrial ship—a mobile miniature foundry world—is capable of refining raw materials into fuel and ammunition, continuously producing spare parts in deep space, and providing long-term resupply for the fleet. The foundry ship, on the other hand, melts down scrap metal and captured supplies on the battlefield to forge ammunition, parts, and consumables, providing on-site resupply for the fleet."

She closed the data panel and moved on to the next one. "There is a quantifiable gap in the existing logistical capabilities. Several small logistics ships can only handle mobile repairs and emergency maintenance, and do not have industrial capabilities. The Industrial Committee has prioritized the construction of the only Goliath-class industrial ship in Garros. The outer armor has been completed, and the internal power pipelines are nearly 80% laid, but the installation of the refining modules is lagging behind. The technical team has requested a two-week extension."

"approve."

"Secondly," Vera turned to the next page, her fingertip pausing at the edge of the screen, "priority sorting. The combat readiness status of the fleet and the Christian Guard has been checked multiple times and all parameters are within the preset range. However, the timing of the two expeditions cannot completely eliminate the continuous resource occupation effect."

She looked up. "The consumption of the Gologosa expedition will directly affect Garros's inventory replenishment cycle over the next few years. If the Gologosa direction continues to occupy supply capacity and logistical transport, the inventory gap will not be replenished within the scheduled time when the White Scar expedition enters the preparation phase. Considering that the White Scar expedition is much larger than the Gologosa expedition, its material reserve cycle needs to start several years in advance, and the consumption window of the Gologosa expedition happens to cover this start point."

Her gaze lifted from the edge of the data panel and landed on Cohen's face. "The Tech Priest's question was: did the two expeditions have a clear long-term priority order, or did the capacity scheduling agreement reserve redistribution nodes to deal with the effects of continuous occupancy? But when this issue was discussed in Parliament, my judgment was actually very clear—Gologosa was happening right before our eyes, while White Scar was still in the agreement stage. Priorities are determined by reality and do not need additional definition."

Cohen's gaze lingered on the table for a moment. "You're right. The Gologosa Expedition is underway, and the Phoenix Legion is already on standby. The White Scar Expedition is still in the agreement stage. Priorities are determined by reality; no further definition is needed."

He paused. "The White Scar Expedition's reserve window remains unaffected, and the inventory replenishment cycle will automatically resume after the Gologosa consumption window ends. If a production capacity conflict occurs at the junction of the two windows, the central computing power will dynamically allocate resources based on the real-time inventory status."

Vera made a note on the data board, and the transceiver array on the back of her head synchronously completed the archiving—the six data antennas briefly extended for less than a second, pushing the corrected attachment to the high-level technical priest's terminal queue, marked with a "pending confirmation" status, before retracting it back into its base. A "sent" confirmation message popped up on the terminal in front of Cohen.

"Thirdly," she said without looking up, "the allocation of decision-making power. The allocation of expedition commitments is structural. The White Scar Expedition was a diplomatic choice, and the Arrek Expedition was also a personal decision. Neither decision was reviewed by Parliament."

Her fingertips hovered over the edge of the data panel. "The Tech Priest's question pointed to a single issue: will future expedition commitments be decided solely by the Director of Foundry, or will they be included in a routine agreement for parliamentary review? I did not answer him during the meeting."

"You don't need to reply to him," Cohen said. "From now on, any military commitments involving expeditionary levels will be submitted to Parliament for review. The agreement will be confirmed by the Director of Foundry with a confirmation pulse, and simultaneously archived by the Civilian Sages and the High Technical Committee."

"Is this your decision?"

"right."

Vera made another note on the data board. "I'll put your statement directly into the meeting minutes appendix and send it to all the senior technical priests in attendance. That way, they'll know their questions were taken seriously."

Cohen did not object.

"Logistics matters." Vera turned to the last page. "Expedition options must come with clear benefits. Deploying a logistics fleet involves both fulfilling political commitments and receiving direct economic rewards. The Tech Priest's proposal is that the expedition itself should be incorporated into the framework of the Forging World's obligations within the Imperial system. With the expedition agreed upon, actual benefits should be generated through the exchange of goods and acquisition of resources during the expedition."

She pushed the data panel towards her, her fingertip tapping the bottom of the screen. "Political credit and economic returns are simultaneously incorporated into the evaluation framework. Decision-making itself will no longer be a cost, but a quantifiable strategic tool. The evaluation report for the computing power hub is attached at the end of the document."

Cohen picked up the data panel and turned to the last page. The assessment report was short, but the conclusion was clear—once the Goliath-class production line was in place, Garros would have redundant capacity to provide logistical support for both expedition sequences simultaneously, at which point decisions regarding any expedition request would have a clear assessment basis.

He closed the data panel, his fingertip lingering on the edge for a moment before placing it back on the table. "Two casting ships are under construction at Wangshu Shipyard, and the supporting production capacity for industrial ships has been included in the long-term schedule. The construction period estimate is now clear."

He looked up, his gaze shifting from the data panel to Vera's face. "Now that it's clear, let's begin execution."

Vera put away the data panel without immediately standing up. A brief, cold flash of light appeared on the transceiver array on the back of her head under the light—a self-test signal in standby mode.

"Cohen. A project report came from Wangshu. The sensor array detected an unusual energy fluctuation deep within the atmosphere, something that can't be explained by the equipment's self-test." She paused. "You need to go there, right?"

Cohen looked at her. "The deeper layers of Wangshu require the most important functional verification since the founding of Garros. The temple archives have been processed, and you can be an insider, so come with me."

"

She stood up, her shoulders slightly turned, trying her best to suppress the smile on her lips. "Yes, Director."

The two walked down the corridor toward the shuttle berth. Vegetarian plants cast long, thin shadows on the windowsill. Vera's transceiver array on the back of her head flashed coldly in the corner light before being swallowed by shadow. Her steps were more steady than a few months ago, but that steadiness was something she had cultivated herself. Physical enhancements made her less prone to fatigue during continuous work, and the transceiver array allowed her to process data faster, but she was still the same Vera, her shoulders moving first, her feet following.

"Was your transceiver array calibrated today?"

"Liss handled it for me this morning." She turned her head, and the edge of the base below her hairline flashed briefly in the light. "The signal latency has been reduced to less than 0.03 milliseconds. If there are no fluctuations after two more weeks, it will be considered stable."

"How are you feeling?"

"It's better than last week. At first, I felt like there was something pressing on my head, but I'm used to it now."

The shuttle's engines were already waiting in the berth. The aircraft ascended along the guide beam into the airtight passage at the edge of the dome, passing through the thin outer layer of Garros' atmosphere. The afterglow of the stars narrowed into a dark golden band at the edge of the porthole before being covered by the shadow of Wangshu.

The cold white light of the surface berth of Wangshu pier streamed in through the portholes. As Cohen descended the gangway, Isa Velen was already waiting there. She wore a grey robe, and the shielding runes on her forehead gleamed silver in the cold light. Behind her, dozens of members of the Garros Special Psionic Force lined up on the boarding ramp.

Kara emerged from the flank, wearing power armor and a helmet tucked under her arm. Behind her, the Stormtroopers stood in two rows on the boarding pad.

"Keep up."

The passageway from the boarding pad to the deep dome passes through seven airtight doors, each precisely shielding against potential future shockwave interference, from both vertical and horizontal perspectives. Each door has a higher level of certification than the one before it. The walls transition layer by layer from standard ceramic steel to high-gold armor plates, with the thickness increasing from tens of centimeters to meters. The temperature decreases progressively, approaching zero degrees Celsius before the sixth airtight door. The air is so dry that almost no moisture remains.

As the seventh airtight door slid open, the dome space surged out from the darkness.

The dome rises over two kilometers high. Adamantine ribs extend from the base to the highest point, their surfaces etched with complete binary prayers. Cool white light pours down from the gaps between the ribs, creating a slowly decreasing gradient of brightness from top to bottom. You cannot see the end of the light at the highest point because the distance itself is beyond the range of clear visual perception. Your brain cannot process this scale; it can only abandon the overall understanding and instead accept segmented perception.

At the base of the dome, nearly a hundred Starfortress mechs are arranged at precise intervals, their optical lenses all locked onto the center of the dome. Standby indicator lights flash synchronously at a fixed frequency. Hundreds of servo skulls patrol along preset tracks.

At the very center of all this stands that door.

Its height extends from the base to below the highest arc of the dome—the exact same size as the exit of the Choglis network.

The pale white surface of the spirit bone gleamed with a moon-like sheen. Upon closer inspection, extremely fine dark textures could be faintly seen within the white, like the imprints of blood vessels rising from within the bone. The inside of the archway was hollow. Through it, the adamantite armor plates on the opposite dome wall were clearly visible. It was currently still a huge, silent window—it wouldn't open on its own, but would only be awakened when a precise waveform arrived.

Isa Velen took her position behind the main control array. Dozens of psykers lined up on the three concentric platforms. Vera stood outside the warning line at the platform entrance, while the Stormtroopers spread out in skirmish lines on either side.

"start."

Isa's hand stopped above the main control array. The twelve core operators simultaneously closed their eyes. The light from the psionic focusing array transitioned from dark gold to cool white. A ripple appeared from the very center of the inner side of the Spirit Bone Gate.

Isa's voice rang out on the communication channel, trembling with barely suppressed emotion. "The protocol fluctuations clearly indicate—"

Feedback detected. Door authentication successful. Network system responding — spatial coordinates matched. Network node in the Garros region locked. Establishing connection channel.

Inside the gate of spirit bones, the undulating lines began to expand, spreading outward from the center to form clear concentric patterns. The dark textures on the surface of the spirit bones began to gleam with a dark silver light, spreading upward from the bottom of the arch along the curved surface.

"Main gate has responded. Connection channel is being established. Secondary gate psionic activation waveform - loading."

The twelve operators in the core group simultaneously adjusted their psionic output frequency, with the support group following suit. The light from the psionic focusing array shifted from cool white to bluish-white, its waveform precisely matching the frequency Cohen had captured in Chogris. Inside the Spirit Bone Gate, a vortex began to form. The void in the center of the archway transformed from a calm, transparent surface into a slightly convex mirror, pushed from within.

The fissure was widening. A steady pulsation began to appear on the surface of the spirit bone, and the light inside the fissure changed from pale blue to deep blue, then gradually brightened. A steady passage extended from the center of the dome into the net-like channel.

As the rift ceased expanding, the halo at its edges faded from bluish-white to pale white. At the very center of the two-kilometer-high archway, a stable and profound rift opened, leading to the unseen. Through the rift, one could see a continuously flowing, mercury-like sheen—the projection of the network's interior onto the real universe. That mercury-like surface reflected no light, no shadows, like a membrane stretched across the rift of time.

Isa Velen completed the final status check behind the main control array. Her gaze swept over each set of readings—the psionic fluctuation curves were flat, the isolation layer parameters were all green, and the vital signs of dozens of psionicists were all within the preset range. She shut down the external input interface of the main control array. Her voice was a notch higher than before, like a taut string being released with its final vibration.

"The gate to the network has been opened. Psychic energy fluctuations are stable. Locked. You may stop psychic energy input."

9

Cohen stood at the edge of the platform, gazing at the fissure. A mercury-like luster continued to flow across its surface. The dark patterns on the spirit bone's surface had stabilized in the dim silver light. The ancient saints' underlying protocols continued to operate here.

Vera stood outside the cordon at the platform entrance, her mouth slightly open.

She knew about the Web Path. But she never imagined she would one day stand before a Web Path gate, within the dome of her own forged world, watching a rift leading to the unseen steadily open within the adamantite framework. This was an unprecedented strategic juncture in the Empire's history, held firmly in Garros's grasp. Her nails dug into her palms, her lips moved slightly, but no sound came out.

Cohen turned around. He looked at the dozens of psionicists silently standing at their respective positions, the blood vessels on their foreheads gleaming a dark red in the lamplight. Their voices spread throughout the domed space, guided by the arc of the archway to each position.

"From this moment on, everything you see—the existence of this door, its function, where it leads—is listed as a top secret in the Galos Casting World. It will not be recorded, discussed, or mentioned to anyone."

He paused. His voice was a degree heavier than before.

"This is the will of the Emperor, and the will of Om Messiah. Those who violate it will not be judged. Records will be erased, and existence will cease."

He turned to Isa Velen. "Your team, you're in charge. The loyalty of every operator is guaranteed to me by you."

""

Isa's gaze didn't waver. She looked at him. This dome was her new headquarters; she was its sole administrator and the sole commander of the Garros Web Psychic Force. From this moment on, the force reported directly to the Forging Director.

Cohen tilted his head slightly in Kara's direction. Three probes emerged from the passage, paused briefly at the entrance to the Bone Arch, and then simultaneously stepped into the rift, disappearing on the other side of the psionic ripples. On the communication panel, the probes' indicator lights turned from green to red the instant they passed through. There was no signal that could pass between the real universe and the Web.

The dome fell silent. Only the faint light from the servo skull flickered in the darkness. The Starfortress armored vehicles' optical lenses did not move—they had been locked in the same direction since the door was activated.

Time is ticking. Everyone is waiting.