Warhammer: Rebuilding the Golden Age Starting with Farming.

In this grand cosmic narrative, the lives of these individuals don't even qualify to serve as a footnote.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The banging outside the door grew louder and louder. Cracks had appeared in the alloy door panel, and several purple claws were tearing through the cracks.

Judge Orion was the first to come to his senses.

He was, after all, a judge; even if his faith had crumbled, his survival instinct remained.

"Stop howling, everyone!"

Orion raised his gun and fired a shot at the ceiling.

The deafening gunshot stunned everyone.

"Karl's gone, but we're not dead yet!"

Orion pointed to the huge helipad outside the window.

There was an old-fashioned spaceship with a bulky shape and a mottled exterior.

【Grey Hope】.

The Helios Group's ship, originally used for transporting minerals within the galaxy, was also the "iron coffin" that Jeshia had previously looked down upon the most.

It has no subspace engine, cannot fly out of the galaxy, and moves as slowly as a tortoise.

But at this moment, it is the only straw.

"Get on the ship!"

Orion roared.

"Even drifting in space for a hundred years is better than being eaten by bugs here!"

The crowd surged toward the ship like madmen.

Jessia remained slumped on the ground, motionless.

She doesn't want to move anymore, she's tired, let it all end.

Orion walked over, grabbed her hair, and dragged her up from the ground.

"Let me go...let me die..."

"Let me die! Let me die!!!"

Jessia struggled.

"Want to die? Not so easy."

Orion, his face contorted in rage, dragged her outside.

“You are a high-ranking official in Helios. You know the secrets of this planet, and you also know the details of those heretics.”

"You have no right to die until the court has squeezed every last drop of value out of you!"

Orion dragged Jessia across the corridor littered with corpses like a dead dog and stuffed her into the airlock of the Grey Hope.

"Boom—"

The hatch closed.

Engine ignition.

The spaceship, laden with despair and madness, wobbled as it ascended, escaping the planet that was about to become hell.

Their future is uncertain; they may starve to death in space, be ambushed by pirates, or become a ship full of mummies decades later.

But at least they survived to this day.

……

Outer space, orbital dock.

The massive airtight door slowly opened.

Father Zor's shuttle formation slid into the dock one by one, like a swarm of bees returning to their hive.

Andy stood on the docking platform, watching the boxes of good stuff being unloaded and the neatly lined-up fighter jet crew.

Zor stepped down from the command aircraft. Although his steps were unsteady without the support of the life support system, his electronic eyes were still incredibly bright.

He saw Andy.

This was the first time he had met this legendary behind-the-scenes boss.

He wore a bright yellow robe with no superfluous decorations, only a pure and oppressive metallic feel.

Zor paused for a moment, then his signature smile spread across his face.

"Nice to meet you, sir."

Zor bowed slightly, performing a standard mechanical greeting.

"I don't know your name yet."

“Andy.” Andy looked at him. “Welcome aboard, Father Zor.”

"Since we're here, let's not just sit around. Let's go check out the reactor compartment; they're short of an engineer there."

"Our starship is undergoing final preparations, and the time... well, it's time!"

Chapter 83 Soaring into Deep Space! (5K Complete)

In the vacuum of the orbital dock, no sound travels.

Only through bone conduction and electromagnetic wave communication can one sense the dramatic changes taking place here.

As Xiao Liu issued the final electronic command, the indicator lights on the six massive arrays of anti-gravity generators, which had only been installed a few days prior, went out one by one.

"Snap—"

Then came the sound of the physical lock loosening.

Dozens of thick, heavy-duty mechanical repair arms slowly opened outwards amidst a cloud of white mist from the hydraulic release, loosening their grip on the steel behemoth.

The workers, dressed in fully enclosed vacuum work suits like barnacles clinging to a whale, quickly untied their safety ropes and jumped onto the open-top construction lift that was already waiting nearby.

They retreated, withdrawing to the edge of the dock.

Thus, the starship named "Newborn" was finally revealed to everyone without any obstruction, and displayed under the cold gaze of the stars.

This is no longer the dilapidated merchant ship, covered in rust and mud, that was just dug out of the ground.

Andy used top-quality materials produced by the material molecule reconstruction instrument, along with the round-the-clock repair work of engineering drones, to give it a complete overhaul.

"If every single plank of a ship is replaced, is it still the same ship?"

But in Andy's view, as long as the core logic remains unchanged and the keel sequence remains unchanged, it is the same ship, even if its performance is twice as strong as when it left the factory.

Yes, twice as much.

The current "New Bang" no longer has that mottled gray-black hue, but a chilling pale white, which is the original color of the high-purity ceramic composite gold armor. It has no paint or any superfluous decoration.

Its lines are extremely smooth, and apart from the menacing cone-shaped ram at the bow that was retained for impact, the entire hull presents a perfect streamlined structure.

At this moment, everyone finally realized that before the New Bang crashed, it was actually a very, very beautiful ship!

The Imperial Navy's ships, even the smallest frigates, seemed to want to carry an entire Gothic cathedral on their backs.

Thus, flying arches, spires, huge stained-glass windows, and countless brass hooks for hanging skulls and scriptures became standard features of imperial warships. In the minds of the imperial people, airships were not just vehicles, but mobile temples, and had to be majestic and elaborate.

But Andy wasn't buying it.

He demolished all those messy, illegal buildings.

What a magnificent bridge tower! Demolish it and replace it with an embedded bridge, increasing safety tenfold.

What open-air gun array deck? It's sealed off and replaced with a fully enclosed automatic loading gun case.

The current "New Banghao" looks smooth, white, and thin.

It floats in the dark space, giving people an extreme sense of calm, harmony, and even... inhuman precision.

Father Zor stood at the observation window of the dock, looking at this masterpiece, his eyes filled with conflict.

From a technical standpoint, the ship's specifications are practically perfect, making his already semi-mechanical heart beat faster.

But from an aesthetic and doctrinal perspective...

"What kind of heretical ship is this...?"

Zor couldn't help but mutter under his breath:

"There wasn't even a proper prayer room, nor were there binary hymns engraved on the armor plates."

"Won't this kind of ship be cursed by the machine spirit if it flies out?"

But despite his complaints, his actions betrayed him.

After all, this ship was their only ark to escape this hell.

"Everyone! Listen to my command!"

The Gamma-9's voice boomed over the communication channel.

The once timid and submissive Father Di Chao now stands ramrod straight, wearing his political commissar's coat, maintaining order at the boarding gate.

"Board the ship in order of department number!"

"Don't push, don't make a scene, there are plenty of beds inside!"

"Anyone who dares to bring their own junk up there and take up space, I'll throw them out of the airlock!"

Under his command, hundreds of technicians and workers began to orderly cross the corridor bridge and enter the starship.

Inside this behemoth, Bauer and Roger were sweating profusely as they worked to reorganize the personnel.

"Those from Engineering Departments One and Two, head to Area C! It's close to the reactor, making it convenient for work!"

"Storm Squad and Heavy Guards, proceed to Areas A and B! Take up positions at key nodes!"

"The rest, stuff them all into the living quarters in Sector E! Tell them this isn't a luxury cruise ship; each person only gets a bed and a locker!"

Everything was proceeding smoothly, and Zor took one last look at the dock.

His gaze lingered on the six enormous anti-gravity generator rings and the vacuum shield generator that was slowly shutting down.

Ah, those are all good things!

Even in the world of casting, this is a heavy-duty equipment that only the most advanced factories are entitled to possess.

In particular, the blueprints for that vacuum shield generator were bought from a down-on-his-luck traveling merchant with his savings of thirty years.

Now, we're just going to leave it here?

"Mr. Andy."

Zor turned around and looked at the tall figure in the yellow robe standing behind him.

"Are you really not taking these with you?"

"That's a precision piece of equipment weighing several thousand tons. If we were to disassemble it and load it into the cargo hold..."

"I can't take it with me."

Andy's voice was calm, yet undeniable.

"It would take at least two days to disassemble these things, and we only have three hours."

"Moreover, the cargo hold is already full."

Andy pointed to the slightly lowered waterline of the New Bond; the gravity sensor indicated that the load was nearing its limit.

"It's packed with raw materials, ammunition, and the machine tools we need. If we load any more, the ship won't be able to fly."

Andy walked over to Zor and patted the priest's cold, mechanical shoulder.

"Zor, you need to understand one thing: only those who survive have the right to talk about assets."

"If we die here, these devices will be the Tyrannosaurus Rex's chew sticks."

"As long as the people and the technology are still here, we can make as many of these things as we want in the future."

Zor remained silent for a moment.