What is this?
Cybia frowned.
It appeared to be a xenos fighter craft.
What was its objective? Reconnaissance? Or destruction?
She pondered for a mont, not feeling overly anxious. After all, this was an Adeptus chanicus encampnt established by an Archmagos Dominus.
[Dominus] is an honorary title within the Cult chanicus indicating the bearer's martial inclination, signifying that this disciple of the Machine God has undergone rigorous training in the arts of war and can control the battlefield with machine-like precision.
The sheer quantity of lethal weaponry contained within this encampnt was more than sufficient; its anti-air batteries, in particular, should have absolutely no problem dealing with a single xenos aircraft.
However, out of caution, Cybia packaged the visual data she was seeing and transmitted it via her telepathic link.
Aboard the Strike Cruiser.
Rowan, who was currently discussing the possibilities of Greenskin technology and the potential changes it could bring to the Imperium with Yarrick, was slightly startled upon receiving Cybia's ssage.
Rowan: "Where was this discovered?"
Cybia: "Right near the periter of the Archmagos's base where I am currently located. Why?"
Rowan: "Quickly! Shoot that thing down imdiately! That is a Necron Night Scythe! Its core harnesses a captive micro-wormhole, allowing it to warp Necron forces directly onto the battlefield at will!"
"What?"
Cybia snapped back to attention, turning to Archmagos Cawl and urgently relaying the information.
Without delving into how Cybia acquired this knowledge—after all, the information possessed by an Inquisitor is inherently vast and esoteric—under the Archmagos's command, six hunter-killer missiles roared out from the encampnt. Trailing thick contrails and exhaust flas, they lunged at the xenos fighter like starving wolves pouncing on prey.
However, the Night Scythe proved exceptionally agile. As if having pre-calculated the trajectories countless tis, it executed a bizarre lateral shift, narrowly evading two missiles.
Imdiately after, two twin-linked cannons of unknown xenos tech mounted on its underbelly fired silently. In an instant, the remaining four missiles were reduced to brilliant fireworks in mid-air.
Having eliminated the threat, the Night Scythe lowered its altitude. Its eerie green core lit up faintly, projecting a pale green beam of light onto the ground.
The next mont, a sudden anomaly occurred.
Under the watchful eyes of all observers within the camp, a tide-like swarm of monsters surged forth from the beam of light.
It was a horde of stiff, shambling necrotic soldiers, their appearance remarkably consistent with the Flayed Ones Cybia had encountered earlier.
Wielding firearms that emitted a sickly green glow, their eyes were hollow and lifeless. Their skeletal chassis were enough to horrify anyone who beheld them, resembling a legion of the undead seeking vengeance against the world of the living.
—Necrons.
Deeply shaken by the sight, Cybia once again grasped the accuracy of this description.
Yes, these were the dead.
These ancient deceased had not remained peacefully in their tombs; instead, they had reawakened and crawled to the surface, intent on dragging every other living being on this planet down to hell with them.
"Enemy attack! All Skitarii, prepare imdiately!"
Even though he was montarily taken aback by such an esoteric sight, Archmagos Cawl reacted swiftly. Massive streams of data flashed through the noosphere, broadcasting to every accessible unit: "Form up, we must engage imdiately!"
However, an incoming transmission from a Transponder Priest sent a shock through his core.
["Report: Monts ago, the encampnt was ambushed by nurous unknown hostiles. Our Electro-Priests and Skitarii Marshals have sustained critical casualties."]
"Damnable abominations!" Cawl cursed under his breath.
"...It's the Flayed Ones," Cybia imdiately expanded her psychic perception and quickly pinpointed the culprits, her brow heavily furrowed. "So they have appeared."
Having witnessed the Flayed Ones in action previously, she had realized that this unit, capable of casually opening dinsional portals, was a complete cheat. They could appear in impossible positions and launch devastating ambush attacks.
But was that all?
The three individuals present almost simultaneously realized the implication.
Alpha Primus raised his boltgun, his sharp gaze scanning the surroundings like a blade.
Archmagos Cawl activated the high-powered auspex arrays built into his chanical chassis to sweep for incoming hostiles.
Sure enough, he located a target.
Hidden in the shadowy corner of the encampnt, a lurking Necron was staring back eerily, the sniper rifle in its hands emitting a green glow.
In the vision of the Necron assassin, a Deathmark, streams of data unfolded, painting its targets with green markers one by one.
Its highly efficient processor instantly analyzed the relationships between the three targets:
[Guard], [Guest], [Leader].
Data streams flowed through the Deathmark's core, systematically analyzing the solutions:
[Assassinate Leader? Rejected. Target possesses extre anti-interference capabilities; data cannot be parsed. Target has extensive cybernetic modifications; defensive threshold unknown. Synaptic Disintegrator has a probability of being ineffective.]
[Assassinate Guard? Rejected. Target is of insufficient strategic value.]
The conclusion was obvious.
A pale green energy round burst from the muzzle, flying straight toward Cybia's head, only to be blocked by a thick psychic barrier that materialized out of thin air.
Regarding this outco, there was no emotional fluctuation akin to surprise or disappointnt within the Deathmark's logic arrays.
After all, to every Necron, so-called emotions were nothing more than the product of data simulations, easily annihilated and filtered out.
[Target intelligence acquired. High-level Warp psychic entity. Database cross-reference... comparable target: Aeldari Farseer (War in Heaven era).]
Without a microsecond of hesitation, it imdiately attempted to open a dinsional portal into a pocket dinsion to escape.
However, before the Deathmark could take two steps, it was forcibly seized by a vast psychic force and pinned in place.
Imdiately following, a thick lta beam blasted it, lting it down into a pile of slag.
Archmagos Cawl slowly retracted the Solar Atomiser hidden beneath his crimson robes.
"It appears the situation is indeed suboptimal. These abhorrent xenos are exceedingly troubleso."
"My recomndation is to call for reinforcents," Cybia said. "Our forces aboard the Strike Cruiser can warp down via teleportation at any mont."
"It's the perfect opportunity for to introduce you to the Emperor's Covenant-bearer. I am confident that once you et him, your perspective will change."
"Your proposal is sound. However, I decline."
After contemplating for an infinitesimally brief mont, Cawl flatly rejected the generous offer.
"At present, I cannot fully trust your claims. I can only interpret your current behavior as attempting to exploit a crisis. No reinforcents are required; the Cult chanicus's Skitarii will neutralize this threat."
"As for your so-called Omnissiah's Covenant-bearer, we shall discuss the matter at a later ti."
"Heh, I certainly hope so," Cybia replied coolly, implicitly accepting Cawl's decision.
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