NationStates Jolt Archive

"That man is beset at all quarters by traitors, mutants and fiends is self-evident. But in truth none of these evils shall be our undoing. When the end comes it will be not at the hand of any mortal being of this or any other realm: death will come at the hands of the ancients, those who determined our fate aeons before we stood erect upon the holy ground of Terra and gazed up into the starry night."

- Inquisitor Hoth, Second Book of Admonitions

These words, spoken by one of the Long Dead Imperium. They had been Truth, the Necrons had given the Forces of Chaos the distraction they needed to launch their Ultimate Assult On terra, ending the Imperium in the Fires of Chaos.

Long knowlaged had always suggested there had only been 4 C'tan left. This was the work of fools. When the Nightbringer and the Outsider Went on their Rampage, when they had Devoured their Brothers, there where those that had fled. One of these had been Tetris'Ran. He had Taken his chosen, and then, he had gone into the sleep that had lasted longer then 65 Billion Years.

Now, the Ancient Tomb World would be awoken. For that Which sleeps Will always awaken, sometimes it just needs...a push.

The void was sundered by the vast vessels sliding free of the twistedly living Immaterium, about the long Dead world. Such ancient worlds were a curious enigma; a potent symbol of ancient pursuits; of advanced civilisation; of long dead cultures. The Priesthood of the Adeptus Mechanicus valued such worlds for their raw material value; the technology that could be gleaned from such barren spheres was testament to the marvels that the Machine God inspired. They would take such treasures from heretical hands...

The hunched figure of TechMagos Irad gazed down at the world; gesturing with one flailing Mechadendrite, watching as the deployment began; and his dreams slowly began to be realised. The transports hurtled towards the barren surface; deploying Skitarii servants and Imperial Guardsmen specifically requisitioned for their endeavor. The mighty armored hull of a Baneblade gleamed beneath the sickly sun of the tomb world; The Magos himself braced, feeling his form fade; only to reform upon the cloying dust of the torpid planet; his every footstep displacing the ashes of an entire race, perhaps...

He drew a hand across the wall, running his metallic fingers along the grooves; tracing the unfathomable Necron'tyr symbols with a curiosity and an eagerness that belied his inherent lusts. Were he a mere subject of the Imperium, his curiosity would have brought him to the embrace of Slaanesh; but now he served the ever present power structure of the Machine.

On-board systems were recording as reference for the unfathomable computerised power known as Discord. The vessel had numerous feeds; one routed through the Magos' bionic eyes...Slowly, the Imperium spanning networks began to analyse and record...There was much to be done...Much to learn.

Life

The feeling was something Tetris'Ra had not felt in aeons, he had not tasted such as this for almost Sixty Five Billion Years, for his fear of his two breatheren had kept him in sleep, eating only what energy he had redirected from the planets sun to himself.

With a mere thought, he rose, through the countless levels of the temple. As he did, he saw the thousands of his Host. Their Skelital forms ment to cause fear, to inspire Terror into the hearts of those that stood against him.

They where not needed in this instance. He was there, at the highest level of his temple, several Levels above where the Explorers where. He strode forth, in his chosen form, a creature that was similar to a man, although adorned on his back where the wings of a Bird, their Gold and brow feathers. His features where more defined then a man, and he looked almost bird like in his form.

And when he spoke, it was a voice of power, one of compleate and utter contempt for those below it.

You have trespast upon me, now, know my Wrath!

And then hell broke loose, as the Creature attacked, his arm materializing into a sword. He screamed, as his blade struck, right into the heart of the BaneBlade.

The tank quickly reversed; guns firing; roaring with carnal discharge as the Imperial Guardsmen turned their weapons unerringly towards the mighty thing before them. The Skitarii's weapons howled, whirling as they let loose against this ancient monstrosity. Some faltered; dropping their weapons; turning to run, even as the Magos' plasma-pistol cut a swathe through them

"Traitors before the Emperor! Stand and fight! Craven whores!"

He whirled; watching the thing's tyrannous advance. He raised his weapon, opening fire along with the men; he would not lie down and die, he would fight. He was interfacing with the crew of the vessel high above; speaking now...

"Ready for Immediate Exterminatus on my mark"

The C'tan Struck forward, ripping through whatever it was that stood in its way. Even now, the fear in the minds of those before him made him smile, the taste was amazing. He watched as the creatures, so weak, attempted to cause him harm, and laughed. The sound echoed across the feild. He was toying with them, that was obvious, feeding off the various emotions before him. But there where other things to do, with a mental order, he called for his searvents to awaken.

***

Inside the Pyramid, warriors began to come to life, disconnecting from the walls. They took up weapons and began to move, Wraiths shooting forward, exiting the Temple and comming up behind the Guard.

The C'tan Thrived, as the emotions they where feeling sustained him, but it was not enough, with a quick snap of power, he dragged the life of Several soldiers from their bodies so fast, they didn't even realise they where dead.

***

The Recall becon on the Necron also activated, as Craft of various sizes arrived. Lighting Arcs and Partical Wips let loose, intent on destroying the craft. And all the while Horu'Ka was feeding, taking what he needed from these mortal shells.

The signal was sent; even as the ships assaulted it; sundering waves of warp-fire poured against them; while the awe-inspiring cannons of the battlecruisers opened fire against the tombs; a deluge of almost liquid hell pouring across the sky; as battle was futilely joined below.

Guardsmen died in droves; life sucked from them; rent from their bodies; while the tank reversed; continuing to pound at the thing and the structure behind it with barely fathomable rage; lascannons roared; lasguns shrieked; the howl of grenade launchers sounded as the Imperium lashed out again and again against this unfathomable foe. Gauss fire tore a man's legs from under him; a sharp shriek as he faded away; nothing but atoms. The Magos fought on; he would not falter in the service of the Machine.

He above all others had Faith.

Tetris'Ra looked intriguingly at one of the creatures before him, it showed no fear, it felt no fear. It was compleatly unwavering in its faith. He tasted the new emotion...it was unique, it was new. He then shrugged, and turned to the Tank that was shooting across the dead world. His irritation of it mounted, and he directed some of his most heaivly armed warriors to destroy it. The Machines skimmed over the battle, aiming their Heavy Gauss Cannons, before the Green Beams let loose, intent on shreading the Enemy armour.

Tetris'Ra looked back at the creature, a thought crossed his mind, and he smiled, a thought and he would make the creature faint, following which Tomb Spyders would take him away, he would consider what to do with him later.

And then he drained the Life of More Guardsmen. Soon, they would be gone.

***

In space, the battle raged, energy cannons of an entire fleet where aiming for one craft, with lack of manuvering, one of the lighter craft fell apart under the broadside, but any of the main craft held their own, even though they looked lightly constructed, they where just as powerful as any ship in Imperial control.