Chapter 1- An Eternal Sleep Broken in the Deep

“What in the name of the Emperor happened here?” the space marine captain asked aloud, surveying the tomb that lay before him. Bones, metallic and calcium based alike lay shattered amongst the remains of decaying arms and armor, all utterly alien to the captain. “Eldar… and Necrons by the looks of it Captain Turzer” began one of the captain’s three sergeants, “it looks as if the Elder wished to destroy this Necrons threat from the entire Vurantus System, indeed none have been reported in over two thousand years but… out of all the tombs explored in this system, this is the first in which they have left their dead.” The sergeant ended his report with a hint of uncertainty. Captain Turzer looked at the sergeant and “Thank you Cresuvus for your most detailed report, this information will puzzle the librarians as of such mysterious involvement with the Eldar”. Turzer turned away from his loyal sergeant and looked at his men, three teams of proud space marines, the best of the best. Thirty in all there were and yet, the noble captain winced at the idea of the Eldar being involved in the sudden destruction of the Necrons. Such a plague the Necrons had been to the system and several others until their sudden demise. The captain looked at the walls, scorched with fire and the scars of energy weapons, and then to the bodies, staked high. Hundreds had died in this dark cramped tomb, and who knows how many others in long lost battles under the surface of this planet and many others, their tales of heroism never to be told. The only way they could have attacked so quickly against the Necrons the captain thought to himself, was if one of these tombs held a Warpway. It would explain why they tried so franticly to destroy the Necrons, less they use it against them. Treacherous Eldar and their Warpways, at least the Imperium’s enemies fought so readily against each other as they did the Imperium the captain thought. Still, no matter how much of a help these Eldar might have been for the Imperium, they were still traitorous xeno scum.

In the far end of the Tomb there was a loud shout “Hail the Machine Spirit!” After nearly an hour the techmarine had finally managed to open the door that lead to the rest of the tomb. With an eerie silence the great metallic doors swung open, as of powered by some unseen force. What lay ahead was no mere tomb, a mechanical city of metal, stone, and death that stood before the space marines as their eyes set upon it, and their hearts faltered. Over the voice com their where several sudden gasps. The full spectacle of the carnage that took place was fully processed. Shattered war machines, gravity tanks littered the city like playthings. Bodies in the tens of thousands lay strewn across the city as its once great metallic pyramids lie crushed by some ancient weapon of destruction. The men were awestruck, but the captain didn't even flinch. “I’ve seen worst during my battles against the orks, and against their “prophet” Gazzgual.” The captain walked to the center of the city to the only structure still standing, it was a great pyramid, each of its four sides boasted different colors, and different hues of metals.Lying in front of the pyramid was the unmistakable figure of an Eldar leader, the farseer still had his hand on the front of the pyramid door, the control panel obviously was torn out and rewired.

The Necron Lords sat in their thrones of steel, their eyes blank, as well as their minds. Each bore different colors and each commanded an army unto itself, and unto their gods, the C’tans. Thirteen thrones of steel there were, yet only seven were inhabited. Before them lay the bodies of their mechanical servants and their enemies, the latter slain by the Necron Lords themselves. As they slumbered time drifted and they waited, waited for the day in which they could be released from their prison of thrones so that they might cull the living once again, and claim their souls for their hungry gods.

The captain ordered his techmarine to open the door barking “quickly, let us leave this place before nightfall, orks maraud on the surface of this planet and have a tendency to strike by night might I remind you!” The techmarine worked tirelessly, the console had to be completely rebuilt, hacked, and rewired over three different times. Still, the techmarine worked, as if possessed by some unknown entity. The utterly alien piece of technology made perfect since, and his solution to every technical obstacle would have baffled his peers. The door suddenly decayed, turning to dust in mere seconds. The techmarine had been haunted by place, his mind filled with whispers, voices, and fears he had never known. As the entrance to the pyramid was reviled, a strange voice filled his mind “Come forth…oh servant of the machine…” The techmarine stumbled into the room; cold metallic figures were sitting on embroiled thrones. Gold and treasures were scattered amongst the bodies that lie before them. The first figure rose, it’s eyes hummed with a green light and in a single fluid motion it grabbed it’s weapon, a great scythe that shivered, as if with life, and its other arm outstretched toward the techmarine, in which lie an orb that glowed with an ever changing hues of green. As the Necron lord approached the techmarine, a whisper hung in the air; “oh servant of the machine… let us cast out thy flesh in the place of the pureness of metal and that of the machine.”

When the captain saw that the techmarine was gone, he went to investigate, the door to the pyramid was missing. The room that lied through the entrance was black with darkness, only a slight ruffle could be heard, along with the slight reflection and the ring of metal. Turzer pulled out a flare “In the name of the Emperor what are you doing techmarine!” As the captain struck the flare, the full horror of what took place was revealed; the techmarine lie on the ground, covered in blood, nothing of his flesh remained, just the cold golden glint metal that took its place under smears of crimson blood, as a Necron lord Stood over him, arms dripping with the blood that once belonged to the captains loyal soldier. Behind the Necron lord stood six others like him, each with their own unique appearance, yet their intent and position remained obviously the same with one another. A voice suddenly erupted “Brothers, Destroy these daemons! “ Only then did Captain Turzer realize that the voice was his own as his right arm rose, bearing his plasma pistol. The captain’s men did heed his call, only to see their fallen leader’s body torn in two. The space marines were no match for the Necrons, their slumbering servants awakened in their hall of thrones. Each Necron lord had a host of pariahs as a personal guard, their great war scythes cut down the noble space marines. Soon others were awakened, and a long forgotten enemy stirred in the deep once more…

The Necron lords, whose power grids had remained un-functioning for nearly two thousand years, had found they had all the energy they needed. As their servants plucked the now ancient soul stones from the Eldar’s armor, they smashed them over the bodies of other, non-functioning Necrons. For countless millennium the Eldar had worn these crystals, so that their souls would not be consumed by their own creation of ecstasy, Slanesh, the newest of the chaos gods, and what a cruel fate it was that their souls be sent to Slanesh directly, and the energy released to power the very machines that they once fought to destroy. The Necron lords made counsel with one another, and now that almost every machine in the city had been brought back from their stasis of forced sleep, the Necron lords had decided to each go back to their original tombs, so that they might rise again.

What they found was not pleasing, every one of their tombs had been destroyed, looted, or inhabited by the living. Felcnor, one of the many Necron lord bellowed with rage when he saw his sacred tomb defiled by the living. As the lord and his newly risen servants slew the last of the filth that lie in the tomb, he went back to the city of steel, so that he might hold council with his fellow peers once more. “The livings have defiled our tombs… destroyed our temples… and angered the great C'tan, yet it is hard to find a proper course of action…” Felcnor’s whisper carried through the hall of thrones. “Perhaps…” began Zavios, wisest amongst the Necron lords “we should bring forth one of the the avatar of the C’tan… I have heard whispers, whispers of a cult on this planet… a cult unto the Nightbringer himself…” After Zavios’ final pause, the once human techmarine walked into the hall of thrones, escorted by a host of five pariah. There was a pause as the techmarine tried to take a deep breath, only to realize that his mechanical body had no lungs “Why do you keep me captive here, and why have you done this to me?” his voice was mechanical, unable to express the pain and contempt he felt toward the Necron lords. “We have done this to you… oh follower of the machine so that you might embrace… the “true” machine spirit” replied Felcnor. “And who might this false god be?” the techmarine said sharply. Felcnor slowly turned his head to Zavios, who in turn began to get up from its throne and began walking towards the techmarine slowly as his long and seemingly strained voice filled the room. “They are known as the C’tan… a race of godlike beings… and through war amongst themselves only four remain” The techmarine was confused, of all the treacherous and false gods he had learned of, he had not heard even a whisper of the C'tan before, and after a short pause the Necron lord continued. “The C’tan fed upon the very stars… able to sustain themselves on their energy but still… they grew tired of the stars as they where all the same. Much about their past has been lost… but we serve the great C’tan… we are their servants and we gather the souls from the living… so that we might sate their great appetite.”

Thank you for reading, more to come soon I hope! Feed back is appreciated. Brood Lord