Andy was currently in the Core Constant-Temperature Zone, where data streams refreshed at a rate of thousands of lines per second.
This was not like the industrial zones outside, filled with noise, dust, and heatwaves.
There were no vibrations from giant forging hammers striking steel ingots, nor the squeaking friction of conveyor belts transporting ore.
It was located in the deepest part of Horizon Citadel, inside the underground explosion-proof isolation belt of the core area.
In the blueprint of Deep Space Industries, this place was designated as the heart.
Many newcomers who had just come into contact with the industrial system often focused their attention on the chimneys belching black smoke and the massive production lines outside, viewing them as symbols of strength. Andy remained noncommittal about this perspective.
However, the true heart of industry was always those precision devices that required a constant-temperature, constant-humidity, and dust-free environment for care and maintenance.
Because only these devices could define the upper limit of an industrial system.
Rough machining determined how large a product could be built, while precision machining determined how good a product could be made.
Andy was conducting his routine morning data inspection.
[Zone: Core Constant-Temperature Zone (Isolation Level: Alpha)]
[Environmental Parameters: Temperature 22°C (±0.1), Humidity 40%, Cleanliness: Class 10 (Highest Standard)]
[Power Supply: Independent Geothermal Dedicated Line (Redundant Backup: 3)]
Located on the left side of the main control area was Deep Space Industries' cold storage zone. The low-temperature stasis pod numbered "Amethyst-03" lay quietly in Storage Vault No. 3.
The resident inside—that Genestealer from the Helios Factory whose body was fully crystallized yet whose heart was still beating—currently had extremely weak vital signs, though it remained very stable.
This fellow was still asleep, and Andy was in no rush to process it.
For such high-risk biological specimens, the normal reaction was usually fear, prompting an urge to destroy it immediately.
Yet to a base-building gamer, any unanalyzed matter belonged to the category of "potential resources."
The crystalline structure on this corpse was the product of a "Matter Molecular Reconstructor" running out of control.
Recent reports all pointed toward the same conclusion: this could almost certainly be identified as the perfect outcome of a high-energy physical field acting upon an organism.
If Andy wanted to figure out the ultimate parameters of the reconstructor, or if he wanted to develop specialized weaponry targeting Tyranid biology, he could not possibly find a better reference object than this Genestealer.
Keeping it was not purely for collection or display like a figurine, but also to extract its remaining value.
As long as the power supply to the refrigeration system was uninterrupted, it remained safe.
Even if it truly woke up, given Deep Space Industries' current armed configuration, it could be shattered to pieces in just a few moves.
The risk was controllable, and the expected yield was high; upon comprehensive evaluation, Andy deemed it worth keeping.
Near the cold storage zone was Andy's data storage center.
The Geller array and Curtain array stripped down from the New Federation were operating quietly.
Directly above them was that revived miniature Geller field.
After undergoing another optimization and fine-tuning recently, its purpose had now changed completely.
It had turned entirely into an auxiliary attachment for the "Xenos Tech Analysis Station."
Andy looked at the operating log of the analysis station.
[Task Queue: Idle]
[Completed Projects: Type-IV Neural Bundle, Warp Energy Conduit, High-Frequency Oscillating Particle Module, Anti-Gravity Stabilizer, Energy Folding Module—]
[Standby Power Consumption: Low]
The analysis station was a fine tool; it consumed xenos creations and spat out key materials that could drive leapfrog advancements in the tech tree.
The problem, however, was that this thing was far too picky. It only devoured high-value xenos fragments, completely disdaining ordinary biomass and basic industrial goods.
This was also one of Deep Space Industries' current pain points: possessing supreme dragon-slaying skills, yet surrounded entirely by ordinary livestock.
Although there were many xenos on Planet Zais, apart from the Rhessians, most were low-level creatures that could only scratch with their claws, carrying no high-grade fragments worth analyzing on their bodies.
To obtain more high-grade materials, the fastest method was naturally to assault the Launch Well directly.
Speaking frankly, Andy did not dare move on the Launch Well right now.
It was not that he was cowardly, but rather that the reconnaissance report from two days ago had been far too terrifying.
During the previous engagement with Kolber, he had fought back and forth with that Rhessian xenos who held a bio-scythe and sliced open power armor. Andy had originally thought that creature was an elite or a squad-leader-level unit among the Rhessians.
Yet later, the footage transmitted back by the drone fleet's deep reconnaissance showed that a monster of that level was merely a sentry guarding the gate at the mid-section maintenance base of the Launch Well! Furthermore, they numbered in the hundreds and thousands!
If even the sentries were this fierce, how powerful must their main forces—or even the so-called "Hive Lord"—be?
Assaulting the Launch Well had to be put on hold for now. He had to wait for some other high-grade xenos to deliver itself to his doorstep to help climb the tech tree a bit higher first.
However, that depended heavily on luck and could not be rushed.
Andy shifted his attention to today's main event.
Mimetic Polyalloy.
Two black containers holding silver liquid metal had now been moved over by Andy.
This material was exceptional—calling it a divine artifact would not be an exaggeration.
As a universal component for colonial development, the characteristics of Mimetic Polyalloy had previously sparked a grand vision in Andy's mind.
He had wanted to construct a "Modular Adaptive Production Center."
This concept sounded quite obscure, but in essence, it meant using the programmable properties of Mimetic Polyalloy to forge a set of universal production molds.
If rifles were lacking today, input the code, and it would turn into an assembly line for firearms; if cannons were lacking tomorrow, input the code, and it would turn into a machine tool for artillery.
There would be no need to replace equipment or readjust production lines—just a single-click switch with maximized flexibility.
For Deep Space Industries, which was currently still engaged in infrastructure construction with diverse and chaotic demands, this was indeed very appealing.
Andy performed a quick calculation.
If workers could master such an operational workflow proficiently, production capacity could at least double on top of its current baseline!
Andy had been excited about this for several minutes at the time, even planning out the foundations.
Until Andy pulled the complete blueprint set out of the STC database—
[Modular Adaptive Production Center (Basic)]
[Material Deficit: Mimetic Polyalloy]
[Current Inventory: 2.3 Standard Units]
[Minimum Requirement: 24 Standard Units]
It was not merely short by a small amount; it was directly short by an entire order of magnitude.
The two containers of polyalloy in Andy's hands were more than enough if used to create a few high-precision master machine tools and a set of armor for himself.
However, if he intended to use them to lay down even the smallest industrial-scale production line, pouring this tiny amount in would not even make a sound.
Andy had thought he had struck it rich, only to realize upon calculating that he was still a pauper.
Yet that made sense. Industrial production had never been sustained by one or two high-tech samples; what it required were vast quantities of basic materials measured in tons.
Although a strategic-level resource like Mimetic Polyalloy possessed powerful performance and could be recovered without loss, until a stable synthesis method was found, its operational performance would still be constrained by raw quantity.
Using it to build a factory? That was far too wasteful and utterly impractical.
"Then that plan can only be scrapped."
In his heart, Andy drew an 'X' over his grand plan.
Since he could not construct a production line, he had to change his approach and use the finest steel on the edge of the blade.
Andy thought of himself.
As the core of the entire faction and the only Iron Man possessing STC authorization, his own chassis performance directly determined the ceiling of Deep Space Industries' development.
Although his current body had undergone several minor repairs up to now—replacing neural bundles, altering armor plates, and optimizing the architecture of certain core servomotors—the results were actually quite limited. His foundation remained an engineering model built for driving bolts.
Although reaction speeds had become much faster and performance had seen a notable increase, that was piled up bit by bit through hardware and self-exploitation.
The underlying protocols remained a complex set of engineering logic, requiring Andy's primary consciousness to micromanage a considerable portion of activities, which consumed computational power immensely.
He felt he could give himself a complete upgrade—not just replacing parts, but replacing the system and changing the brain.
Andy turned his gaze toward a large object in the corner.
[DAOT Universal Maintenance Pod], the original unit standing in the science tower.
Previously, Andy had used it to replace his own neural bundles, but this device's functions were actually quite limited. It could only perform physical disassembly and assembly, unable to conduct deep-level operations on an Iron Man's core logic circuits.
To flash the system and alter underlying protocols, higher-permission interfaces, more precise probes, and a more professional operating system were required.
Once protocols were touched, it essentially fell under the scope of "heavily modifying an Iron Man."
Generally speaking, this required a professional "Iron Man Operating Theater."
In the industrial sequence of the Dark Age of Technology, an "Iron Man Operating Theater" was a strategic-level facility. Equipped with femtometer-scale manipulator arms, it could perform re-arrangements directly at the subatomic level.
Even more extraordinary was its quantum-state stasis capability, which could freeze the logic core's quantum state while rewriting underlying protocols, directly cutting off all forms of Warp corruption and stubborn junk-code infections.
Even for humans, it was the same—equivalent to performing a hot-swapping operation on a soul. It was said that the Haemonculi of the Aeldari also possessed numerous similar methods.
However, such facilities were rare items even in the Golden Age, usually found only on primary engineering vessels several hundred kilometers long or on Forge Worlds.
As for the lower-tier "Intelligent Workstation," although it had degraded to picometer-scale repairs and femtosecond point-laser arrays—no longer possessing those quantum methods that almost altered reality—a fully-formed intelligent workstation still required an independent neutrino cooling tower and a planetary-scale computing matrix to support its real-time compilation functions. To the current Andy, that was an unattainable industrial wonder.
Andy did not have one.
However, he had Mimetic Polyalloy.
Since he could not build a large one, he would build a small one!
Since he could not build a universal one, he would build a specialized one!
Andy called up the modification schematics of the maintenance pod and began making sweeping revisions to them.
He directly dismantled the original set of mechanical arms and pried out those instrument panels that could only display a few parameters.
Andy planned to inject approximately one-seventh of his inventory of Mimetic Polyalloy into the inner walls and operating medium of this maintenance pod.
Utilizing the liquid programmable nature of the polyalloy, he would have them construct a miniature, high-density, and highly adaptive intelligent operation matrix within this narrow space.
When Andy lay inside, the polyalloy would envelop his entire body, seeping into the interior along the gaps in his armor to connect directly to every circuit node.
They would serve as sensors, manipulators, and data lines all at once.
In this way, Andy could perform real-time repairs and adjustments on his own chassis at a microscopic level.
He could even establish several logic extension units via the Mimetic Polyalloy to help share the computational load while flashing his system.
In other words, taking on the function of an "operating system."
"Excellent, let's do it this way!"
Andy made his decision.
This was likely the most cost-effective investment at present!
Andy walked over to the two black containers, entered the command, and released the locks.
The silver liquid metal flowed slowly inside the containers.
Andy extracted roughly 40 kilograms of Mimetic Polyalloy.
This metal was injected into the circulation pipes of the maintenance pod, where Andy began reprogramming them.
Hum—
As the programming completed, a slight vibration echoed from inside the maintenance pod.
Within the light-blue gel, countless silver threads began to move, weaving into a complex network like living creatures.
On the originally bare pod walls, countless tiny metallic contact points emerged.
The STC provided an evaluation report:
[Modification Complete]
[Equipment Name: Polymorphic Adaptive Maintenance Pod (Modified)]
[Functional Rating: Miniature Intelligent Workstation]
[Features: Supports underlying protocol rewriting, supports nanometer-scale hardware repair, supports logic core overclocking assistance]
[Evaluation: Crude overall. Lacks a professional-grade dust-free environment and high-energy particle cleaning equipment; cannot compare to a formal Iron Man Operating Theater. However, under special circumstances, it is already a miraculous configuration.]
Looking at that line reading "crude overall," Andy did not get angry, but rather felt somewhat gratified.
"Crude but functional" was precisely what he wanted!
In a world where even standard components had to be crafted by hand, having a place to flash his system safely was already something to be thoroughly grateful for!
He did not expect this thing to transform him into an invincible god of war; as long as it could unlock certain limitations of the engineering chassis, this transaction would yield a massive profit.
Having completed the preliminary work, Andy did not rush to lie inside.
Flashing a system carried risks, even with this high-grade tub protecting him.
Once it failed, at best it would result in a crash; at worst—it seemed nothing extreme would happen either. The layers of safeguards from the Golden Age were right here, so at most it would probably just restore factory settings or something similar.
Even so, complete preparations still ought to be made.
Andy left the constant-temperature zone and returned to his workshop.
First, he needed to check on the situation at home.
This was also a required course for base-building: no matter how advanced the technology held in hand was, one could not forget the crops in the field.
On the holographic screen, various metrics of Horizon Citadel were scrolling.
[Power Load: 78% (Stable)]
[Raw Material Inventory: Abundant]
This was thanks to the salvage of those four landship wrecks.
[Ammunition Reserves: Overflowing]
Armaments and ammunition—these were also the things Andy currently lacked the least.
[Personnel Status: Moderate fatigue, high morale]
This was thanks to—Gamma-9's brainwashing—
Did everything look exceedingly bright?
Yet Andy keenly caught the hidden perils within.
Data could lie.
To be precise, data could only reflect the current state, not the trend.
Deep Space Industries right now was like a war chariot sprinting at full speed: appearing unstoppable on the surface, yet every component was actually bearing immense pressure beneath.
A 78% load rate seemed fine, but that was under the condition that not all production lines were activated.
Once Andy wanted to expand production or build larger structures—such as restarting more relic facilities—a power deficit would re-emerge.
Although geothermal energy was stable, its output power had an upper limit.
Andy had to start considering new energy solutions, such as the reactor technology he had never dared touch, or else go plunder more nuclear fuel.
Next were raw materials.
Salvaging the landship wrecks had indeed enriched Deep Space Industries immensely, but that was a one-time deal; once dismantled, nothing remained.
Although Zais was a junkyard, garbage was also finite.
If he failed to establish a stable external source and find new high-value salvage points, then in about three to four months after this batch of inventory was exhausted, Andy would have to go back to dismantling high-rises again.
Yet this was the nature of base-building: there was never a state of so-called freedom from worries.
When you solved one problem, your appetite grew, and two new problems would sprout up.
When your production capacity went up, raw materials became insufficient; when raw materials were sufficient, manpower became insufficient; when manpower was sufficient, something else might become insufficient again.
As the helmsman of this system, Andy's routine task was to keep an eye on these red lines at all times and integrate new resources before they snapped.
"Little Six."
Andy called out to his AI housekeeper.
"Present."
"Summarize the recent reconnaissance reports, focusing on surrounding xenos activity and resource points."
"Also, tell Zor to stop staring at those useless parts of his all day. Have him study how to improve the efficiency of the current geothermal power station—even a 5% increase is good."
"As you command. Instructions have been issued."
Andy took a deep breath, turned around, and returned to the newly modified maintenance pod.
The light-blue gel emitted a soft glow under the lighting, and silver liquid metal threads moved within it, waiting for his entry.
Well then, it was time.
Andy removed his gear, hung his flashy bright yellow robe off to the side, and stepped into the maintenance pod.
The cool gel instantly wrapped around his body.
The liquid metal drilled inside along the gaps in his joints, bringing waves of intense, numbing sensations.
Data streams on his retina began refreshing frantically.
[Administrator access detected.]
[Polymorphic Adaptive System initiating.]
[Establishing neural connection—Connection successful.]
[Preparing to rewrite underlying protocols.]
[Target: Unlock combat module limitations, optimize logic calculation paths, load 'Iron Man - Commander Type' trial patch.]
Andy closed his eyes and cut off his visual sensors.
In that pitch-black ocean of data, he located several long-locked doors representing higher levels of authority.
"Begin."
The pod door slowly closed—