Andy silently calculated the time.
Exactly two hours and forty-five minutes had passed since the transport vehicle lost contact.
The surroundings were deathly silent; aside from the sound of wind-blown grit hitting the armor plating, there was nothing. No roaring Valkyrie transport planes, no heavily armed private security forces, not even a single Servo-skull deployed for reconnaissance.
This was abnormal. Extremely abnormal.
Given the Helios Group's operating style—recovering every gram of raw material and silencing every witness—an armed recovery team would usually lock down the area within twenty minutes of such an accident, burning everything within a five-hundred-meter radius to ash.
But now, it was as if these people had vanished from the face of the earth.
Andy looked toward the direction of the fully enclosed factory. There was only one explanation.
The chaos inside their factory was ten thousand times more severe than this overturned truck full of crystalized corpses. It was so severe that the Helios managers in the Underhive were completely paralyzed, unable to spare a thought for the losses out here.
"Very well. Since no one has come to claim it, it is now ownerless property."
Andy made his decision. He turned to face the heavy, distorted, yet still tightly sealed armored cargo doors.
"Gamma-9." Andy pointed to the gap in the door. "Cut it open."
Though Gamma-9 was terrified of the purple crystalline corpses, the Archmagos' command was absolute. Trembling, he approached with a melta-cutter.
A blinding white light ignited as the multi-thousand-degree thermal jet slammed into the specialized alloy door lock. The sound of melting metal hissed as red-hot iron flowed down the seams.
Five minutes later.
CLANG—!!!
The ten-centimeter-thick armored door finally gave way and collapsed with a thunderous boom, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Andy switched on his shoulder-mounted high-intensity searchlight. The snow-white beam pierced the darkness inside the cargo hold. The moment they saw what was inside, everyone gasped in unison.
...
...
Thirty kilometers away.
Helios 10th Generation Enclosed Processing Plant: Core Production Workshop.
WEEE-OOO! WEEE-OOO! WEEE-OOO!
Piercing red alarms echoed through the massive enclosed space, vibrating painfully against human eardrums. Yet, the sirens couldn't drown out the low-frequency hum vibrating from the giant machine that occupied half the workshop.
At this moment, its core—which should have been tightly wrapped in a forcefield shield—was spewing visible, intense purple light. As the terrifying energy leaked, the entire workshop was submerged in an eerie violet glow.
Within this purple light, hundreds of shirtless, purple-skinned bald workers were laboring. No, "laboring" was the wrong word. They were being tortured.
The high-energy molecular reconfiguration field was indiscriminately attacking every carbon-based organism in the room. One worker, carrying a crate of ore, suddenly saw his left arm become transparent in the purple light. Soft muscle and tough bone underwent a phase change at the molecular level, turning into a cluster of shimmering, purple silicate crystals in an instant.
CRACK!
With a crisp snap, the crystalized arm couldn't bear the weight of the ore. It sheared off at the shoulder. The severed limb hit the ground and shattered into a pile of purple dust.
A normal human would be rolling on the floor in agony. This worker did not. He didn't even grunt. His body swayed slightly; then, he reached out with his remaining right hand, grabbed the crate, and continued feeding the conveyor belt.
Meanwhile, above him, the fire sprinklers on the ceiling had all opened.
HISS—
However, it wasn't water raining down to douse a fire. It was a thick green mist.
This was the "Emergency Production Guarantee Gas" developed specifically by the Helios Group for this scenario. Its composition was simple and brutal: high-purity adrenaline, military-grade nerve blockers, and the maddening combat stimulant "Frenzy."
In this green toxic fog, all pain nerves were forcibly severed. All cortical brain activity was suppressed. Nothing remained but the most primitive muscle reflexes and the instinct to obey orders.
Even if their eyeballs had burst into crystals, even if their legs had turned into brittle stone, even if their internal organs were slowly vitrifying into glass, these workers—bearing Genestealer blood—continued to madly consume their final life force under the drive of the drugs. They were like zombies without the capacity for pain, fueled by purple radiation.
To ensure the intake port of the malfunctioning machine didn't clog, to ensure the production line ran for even one more second, they were turning themselves into fuel.
One operator pulled a lever, and half his body suddenly stiffened into a purple crystal statue. The worker behind him immediately rushed forward, kicked the statue-like comrade aside, crushed him underfoot, and took over the lever.
Dust flew, mixing with green chemical mist and purple light. This factory had gone completely insane.
...
...
Factory Top Floor: Panoramic Observation Room.
A half-meter-thick pane of leaded anti-radiation glass isolated the hell below from the room above. A young woman stood at the window, holding a glass of expensive Amasec brandy.
Jesia Hel, Executive Director of the Helios Group's Underhive Development Department and third-in-line successor to a branch of the Hel family. Known as the "Golden Wasp," she was famous for her ruthless methods, her extreme obsession with efficiency, and her total disregard for human life. She was also the head of this ancient Black Box excavation project.
Jesia's silk uniform was spotless; her meticulously styled blonde hair shimmered under the soft lighting. She looked down at the workers turning into crystal, shattering, and being trampled into powder. Her eyes held no emotion—no fear, and certainly no pity. She looked like a child watching an ant nest being doused with boiling water.
"Director."
Behind her, the security specialist was sweating profusely, clutching a data slate, his voice urgent. "The energy index of the reconfiguration field has broken the critical threshold. Conservative estimates say the isolation shield will fail completely in three minutes. At that point, the crystallization radiation will spread instantly throughout the entire plant, including here."
"The shuttle is preheating on the landing pad. Please evacuate immediately."
Jesia gently swirled her glass, watching the amber liquid cling to the sides. "Is the data from the Black Box backed up?" She asked only this.
"It's backed up! The encryption key is in your hands!" The specialist was practically jumping with anxiety. "But the equipment below is finished! This factory cost three billion credits..."
"Equipment is inanimate; people are consumables."
Jesia drained her glass in one gulp and tossed the expensive crystal glass onto the carpet. Beneath her glamorous exterior was a track record built on the bones of tens of thousands of Underhive workers. To her, the Underhive was just a giant trash heap, and the people living here—especially those serving her—were merely lines of ink in a cost column.
"As long as the Black Box remains, and as long as the key is in my hands, what is three billion? At most, the board will fine me a year's bonus."
She turned and walked toward the door in her high heels, never looking back at the destroying workshop. To her, this accident was merely an unsuccessful stress test. The data was secured, and the Black Box was safe; therefore, it was a victory.
As for the dead workers? She'd just go back to the Underhive and recruit another batch next week. There were plenty of those bald hybrids around, and they didn't require death benefits.
"Let's go." Jesia's voice was cold and haughty.
Five minutes later, a sleek luxury shuttle ascended from the rooftop landing pad. Its engines spat blue tail-fire as it carved an elegant arc through the atmosphere, flying toward the Spire that pierced the clouds.
And below it...
BOOM—!!!
With a deafening roar, the massive enclosed factory suddenly collapsed inward. A burst of purple light erupted, staining the surrounding ruins for miles in an eerie, ghostly hue.