「Three more years passed.」
On Cybertron, a massive, ring-shaped Magic Furnace supported the energy network of this small world.
A total of one hundred fully automated production lines ran day and night. Massive quantities of metal ingots went in, and when they were spat out, they had become intricate, complex components.
And on a vast, designated plot of land—three kilometers long and two kilometers wide—a true behemoth had risen from the ground: the newly completed shipyard.
Its main structure was suspended in mid-air, with bustling construction platforms and a material transport network as dense as a spider's web below.
Tens of thousands of Factory Servants swarmed over the ship's frame like worker ants, moving without rest.
This replica of a Purification Battleship was still under construction. Merely laying the keel of its fifteen-hundred-meter frame was enough to cast a shadow that blotted out the sun and sky.
