I repaired the ancient deep space ship, but the aliens laughed at me for repairing a piece of scrap metal.
Escape! Before the fleet jumped, I received a memo from a thousand years later - "Silly children, run, what you are repairing is not a starship, but a god..." The second half of the sentence was erased, and the signature was: Su Wangyue.
They didn't understand that what I was repairing was actually the "tombstone" itself. As a deep space maintenance technician, I happen to understand the sleeping logic behind ancient technology. Every scrapped "iron coffin" is waiting for me to wake it up.
When the golden fleet fell into wasteland, I held the maintenance hammer tightly, restarted the star ring, and controlled the deep space annihilation cannon. On the chessboard of the universe, I am the awakening doomsday. Then tell them—God also requires annual inspections.
