The whole factory was in motion. Workers rushed back and forth, loading the finished G-32 units into the trucks. It wasn't even the full army yet, but it was still enough to fill three trucks with units and two more with their weapons.
I took a seat at the front, in a vehicle Benedict had prepared for me—a "car," though it looked more like a bunch of different machines smashed together than anything coherent.
Metal, pipes, gears, runes—if you could imagine it in a VIP transport, Benedict had crammed it in there somewhere.
"Safe trip, my lord."
Benedict tapped on the backseat window where I sat, then moved around to the driver's seat and signaled that everything was ready.
It was finally time for things to move forward.
For the first few minutes of the ride, nothing really happened. Even when we passed through the shadier parts of the inner district, no one tried anything.
