Several Terran hours later.
The retinue on the planet's surface finally awaited the return of the shuttle.
In the sky above, the roar of the shuttle's engines grew steadily louder as it rapidly descended, eventually touching down on the landing pad and kicking up a massive cloud of dust.
The heavy assault ramp lowered, and three silhouettes appeared in the field of vision of everyone present.
There are three people?
Curiosity blooming within him, Rowan focused his gaze.
Walking at the absolute forefront was an Adeptus chanicus Magos clad in crimson robes, gripping an Omnissian Axe.
His posture was perfectly straight. His robes were embroidered with highly complex, archaic chanical schematics. The skin visible at his collar and cuffs was pale and luminous, completely devoid of even the slightest trace of cybernetic augntation.
Looking at the Magos's face, Rowan could faintly recognize the biological features beneath the colossal, heavily modified chanical chassis Belisarius Cawl had previously inhabited.
He actually fully restored his original, biological body?
Rowan was montarily taken aback.
But upon further reflection, it was entirely logical.
Ten millennia ago, during the Great Crusade era, Archmagos Cawl had been a highly unorthodox mber of the chanicum's "biological purist" faction. He firmly believed that the flesh and blood of the human form was the ultimate, perfect creation of the Machine God. He had been exceedingly cautious and hesitant to apply any unnecessary cybernetic augntations to his own body.
Now that Cawl had achieved the reality-bending dominion, it stood to reason that his very first action would be to effortlessly restore his original biological form, permanently discarding the massive, cumberso cybernetics he had been forced to adopt over the past ten thousand years simply to survive and fulfill the Primarch's mission.
It was a perfectly rational course of action.
But who on earth are the other two figures?
Cawl strode up to Rowan, offered a respectful nod, and spoke:
"I have returned, my Lord. I apologize for the extensive delay."
"It is fine."
Rowan waved his hand dismissively and looked at the others. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"
"That was my intention."
Cawl gestured to the man standing beside him. "Allow to introduce Archmagos Qvo."
"Oh, it's you."
Hearing the na, Rowan instantly understood.
Friedisch Adum Silva Qvo was an Adeptus chanicus Magos from the Great Crusade era, and Belisarius Cawl's closest companion and dearest friend.
However, during an internal chanicus conflict—or rather, an incredibly violent "academic dispute"—their ntor, Master Sedayne, had attempted to forcefully overwrite Cawl's consciousness and hijack his body. Cawl had successfully counter-attacked, consuming Sedayne's soul and assimilating it as a fragnted persona within his own mind.
Tragically, during that sa conflict, his dearest friend Qvo had been gunned down by a bolter. Fortunately, Cawl had managed to successfully preserve Qvo's soul-engrams and personality data.
Now, possessing the reality-bending dominion, Cawl had effortlessly bypassed the insurmountable technological bottlenecks of standard reality, successfully performing what amounted to a literal resurrection.
Naturally, this process undoubtedly involved the extensive application of highly restricted, heretical knowledge, but that was beside the point.
After the rest of the retinue exchanged greetings with the newly resurrected Archmagos Qvo, Cawl continued his introductions.
"And finally, this."
Cawl pointed to the towering entity standing beside them. "Following extensive collaborative design protocols between Archmagos Qvo and myself, this is the final product, constructed specifically to mitigate the squad's lack of heavy fire support."
Rowan shifted his gaze, his eyes narrowing as he carefully scrutinized the machine.
It was an exceptionally massive Domitar-class Battle-Automata.
Of course, that specific designation might be sowhat obscure. To use its more infamous colloquial na: an Iron Circle Automata.
Exactly. It was a replica of the personal honor guard utilized by Perturabo, the Daemon Primarch and Lord of the Iron Warriors Legion. These battle-automata possessed absolutely terrifying offensive and defensive capabilities, representing the absolute pinnacle of automated warfare.
Furthermore, it was blatantly obvious that this specific unit was far more than a standard replica.
Rowan could clearly see that the automaton was bristling with an absurd amount of unidentifiable, highly advanced weaponry.
"Indeed. I have successfully integrated every single archeotech relic and weapon system I could locate within my vaults into its chassis," Belisarius Cawl explained with palpable excitent.
"The payload includes a Solar Atomiser, an Arc Scourge, a localized personal Void Shield generator, a Quantum Annihilator, the Omnissian Grace targeting matrix, a Sacrificial Auto-Repulsor, the Numinous Cofferdam energy capacitor, the Death's mory tactical cogitator, the Holy Censer of Purification, and nurous other secondary systems."
This is completely absurd.
The sheer, concentrated firepower on this single automaton could probably rival a minor Exterminatus protocol, couldn't it?
This is vastly over-engineered.
Furthermore, given Rowan's deep understanding of Archmagos Cawl's thodologies, the automaton's artificial intelligence was likely far from standard. It was highly probable Cawl had cramd a "Cawl Inferior"—a degraded clone of his own consciousness—into the chassis to serve as the primary operator, though it wasn't currently manifesting itself.
"Excellent. With this addition, our probability of successfully exploring the Necron Tomb World has increased substantially."
Rowan pondered for a mont, suddenly recalling sothing. "Ah, right. I made a discovery earlier that I need to share with you."
"A discovery?"
Cawl paused.
"Regarding Necron intelligence."
Invisible telekinetic force surged outward, grabbing the slagged, lted remains of the Deathmark and dropping them directly into the center of the group.
"Earlier, I inspected the Necron debris left on the battlefield and arrived at a... rather unique conclusion."
"What conclusion?"
Cawl imdiately analyzed the remains before him, his sensors registering the anomaly. "This energetic signature... It appears fundantally different from standard matter."
"Correct. Your assessnt is accurate."
Rowan nodded, confirming the Archmagos's hypothesis. "The tallic alloy constituting these xenos chassis is designated 'Necrodermis,' or living tal. It possesses rapid self-repair capabilities akin to biological tissue. However, that is not the critical anomaly."
"The critical factor is that this tal's origin is inextricably linked to the C'tan—the physical gods of the materium. Consequently, unlike mundane matter, Necrodermis possesses an inherently robust Hu rating."
"Therefore, utilizing reality-bending to alter or create this specific material requires significantly more ontological exertion than standard matter."
Hearing this intelligence, everyone present visibly tensed.
This was undeniably bad news.
However, before they could voice their concerns, Rowan casually raised a hand toward the chanical remains.
A sudden gust of wind swept past, and the living tal—which Rowan had just claid possessed a degree of inherent resistance to reality-bending—was instantly disintegrated into fine ash, scattering into the air until nothing remained.
"However, its ontological intensity is only marginally higher than baseline reality," Rowan explained, rising to his feet. "This material can indeed offer slight resistance against reality distortion, causing a Level 2 Reality Bender to experience noticeable exertion. But for , at my current level, it rely requires a fraction of a second longer to process."
Witnessing this absolute, empirical demonstration of power, the entire retinue simultaneously exhaled in relief.
All preparations were finally complete.
The group gathered together, forming a strike team with a composition so absurd it defied all logic.
Two Archmagi of the Adeptus chanicus, a hyper-lethal Battle-Automata, an Alpha Primus Astartes, a Custodian Guard, a Living Saint, an Alpha-grade Inquisitor, a cyborg Ork-k Commissar, and Rowan himself.
Truth be told, assembling a team with such a staggeringly overpowered and contradictory roster within the current Imperium of Man was practically a statistical impossibility.
It was highly likely this strike team was going to deliver a series of apocalyptic surprises to the slumbering Necrons below.
Rowan waved his hand, issuing the final order as he took the lead, striding toward the massive crater the excavation drills had bored into the center of the encampnt.
"Then let us not delay any further. Let us descend and see what secrets this tomb holds."
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