After a tumultuous series of emergency fixes, the farm complex is finally operational again.

I might be unlettered, but the Stockade has a collection of wisdom rhymes. We have our own tricks for metal smithing, weaving, and machine cobbling.

Wisdom rhymes of the Stockade... They might be basic knowledge and science left behind by the Yanese pioneers.

We're not just talking about cogwheels, axles, or other mechanical analogs... These are Originium formulas and digital signals! By Talos, is this guy a natural or what...?

So I guess ... we're all safe for now?

I really don't want to accept this contraption of questionable components. But ... I gotta state the obvious. It's actually running pretty well.

Enough with yer nonsense! It works. It runs. And it's reminding someone to call me his grandsire.

Excuse me?! Need I remind you that I had to save your sorry arse! It was me who prevented us from being blown to pieces? You say the magic words now!

Well, how about some compromising ... You could adopt each other!

Like hell I'd claim him as family!

Regardless, we can finally conclude this phase of the construction project.

However, I'm still a little concerned. Those construction materials ... what could've sabotaged them...?

Even then, the fact that they have survived all those years as an oral tradition... It's a remarkable achievement.