Traveling through the Warhammer world, but I didn’t cry.

++All energy is input into the propulsion system, cutting off the supply of all weapon energy and life support systems++

++Estimated body scrap time: 30 standard seconds++

++Acceptable, continue to maintain reactor energy delivery++

One after another, the priests that had been damaged during the particle flow crashed and shut down during the 5000% overload operation. The crackling lightning and the thick smoke emitting from the mechanical body proved that they had completely returned to Omnisiah. . Depending on the integrity of the body, all overloaded priest units estimate that their bodies will be completely scrapped. In this kind of fine overload control and work distribution, no priests will be scrapped at the same time. They are perfectly staggered by a short period of time. It is enough for them to transfer the detected and counted data to the next priest's data core.

In this god's heart filled with mechanical corpses, unit 0037, which is the most complete and has suffered the least particle impact, has become the last unit that can still operate. The data and results that were overloaded by other priests were all transmitted into his core. Under the rapid processing, his fuselage also suffered the same overwhelming damage.

The data core full of data washed away his remaining biological consciousness and was about to turn into a purely mechanical unit, but he did not regret it. In the baptism of such data flow, he only felt that he was getting closer to Omnisei. Ya, get close to this sacred machine soul.

The mechanical eyepiece used for observation is covered with long chains of sacred binary codes. The violently shaking body bursts out with sparks of lightning. The interpreter was completely damaged during the high-intensity operation. The never-ending red flash finally Disappear.

++ZZZZZ....The reactor outputs energy....ZZZZZ....to...4.%++

++The traveling structure is lost...sizzling...insufficient energy...++

++Estimated...scrap...13....++

Unit 0037 was almost unable to survive. He had already encountered his own downtime. He felt deeply guilty and unwilling.

++Sorry...Omnisiah...Sorry...Holy Machine Spirit...++

When unit 0037 was desperate, the broadcast that resounded throughout the fuselage was recorded by his receiver.

"Last loyalty begins in ten seconds."

"ten."

"Nine."

++O Omnisiah, is this your last...sizzle...mercy? ++

0037 looked at the reactor core in front of him that he had served for thousands of years. He ejected the limiters one by one and sank the high-energy plasma generator into the center of the core. The buzz of the entire reactor was clanged. Dangerous sounds replaced it, and more high-energy radiation particles burst out from it, penetrating the priest's body that was about to collapse.

++Reactor stability test, 0.0000000000%++

"three."

"two."

The countdown is about to end. Unit 0037 strives to stretch out all the modified limbs that he can still control, using his largest body area to feel the sacred baptism that Omnisiah and the sacred machine soul are about to bring to him. At the last moment of the countdown, seconds at the same time.

++Glorious return to Omnisiah, praise the sacred machine soul! ! ! ++

The explosion light from the melted reactor completely overwhelmed him, evaporating all the mechanical structures and flesh and blood remnants of his body into blazing gas in an instant.

A huge explosion burst out from the core of the Imperial Titan, drowning the grappling grapple-launching giant as well as the remaining Ork armored troops and scavenger boys who wanted a piece of the pie. Without giving them any chance to react, the blue fireball produced by the reactor explosion completely burned them into ashes. The ancient Juji and super-heavy tanks melted quickly like ice and snow under the direct summer sun, completely steaming along with their drivers.

The explosion was so violent that geological detection centers around the world captured the vibration. A moderate earthquake even occurred in the hive city closer to the center of the explosion, destroying the underlying chaotic structure.

This huge blue fireball created by the self-destruction of the Emperor Titan rose straight into the sky. The shock wave it inspired blew away all the scarlet storms that shrouded the battlefield, and even higher levels of the storm that had been covering the surface of the planet for nearly a hundred years. The heavy pollution smoke and dust were also blown away. A huge blue lens-like sky appeared, and the light of stars transmitted through the hole, illuminating this dead plasma lake.

Curtis Mannheim felt that his current state should be what those people often call a soul. He knew that his body would not be able to retain any trace of that kind of explosion, but his vision was indeed strange now. He looked up and stared at the beautiful sky blown open by the explosion, just like the beautiful blue sky they once held during the military parade in Dolandal Garden World. All his past memories and experiences flashed quickly against the backdrop of the blue sky, looking back on his extremely long life compared to a mortal.

He saw the joy of his parents when he was born, and his mother holding his little body and smiling softly.

He saw him flipping through the legends of God's Machine in his family's library, and he was obsessed with it, hoping that he could be written into the book.

He saw that his naive self had built a crude and loose "Titan" out of cardboard and sticks. And his brother ruthlessly destroyed his valuable possessions.

He saw the ecstatic face when he joined the Titan Order, saw his skinny figure when he was studying seriously, saw the shocking enthusiasm when those divine machines were built, and saw the god-like perspective when he first connected to the machine soul.

His memories became faster and faster, and his consciousness became more and more blurred. In the end, all his memories were fixed in the last few exchanges with the Titan Machine Soul. He once again relived the experience of the Titan being injured and self-destructing, which made his illusory soul shed non-existent tears.

He felt that he had left the planet Armageddon and saw the light of countless stars shining in the vast galaxy, falling into complete darkness in a blur and haze. He could see nothing and hear nothing. The Golden Throne promoted by the Imperial Army did not appear, and the original power and the ultimate sanctuary where all technology was born, as believed by the Mechanicum, could not be displayed before his eyes.

He felt that his soul was about to dissipate and dissipate into this dark endless space.

But in the blur, he saw a familiar light approaching him. It was a red-haired woman whose face he could never see clearly, with long double ponytails, reaching out to him.

Mannheim's illusory hand stretched out and took hold of this slender little hand flashing with electricity. A confirmed name blurted out from deep within his soul.

"The Iron Skull."

"Hello, Mannheim."