As an elder race that has clashed with the Necrons for sixty million years, the Aeldari possess an intimate understanding of the undying legions' thods of warfare. This knowledge proved to be an invaluable boon to the Leagues of Votann.
Atop the squat, sturdy fortifications of the Kin, built with a rugged, dwarven minimalism, the Necron Warriors advanced with the halting gait of chanical cadavers. They unleashed volleys of searing green light from their gauss flayers, the beams lashing against the Kin's plasma shields. The energy of the shields dissipated under the gauss effect, sacrificing itself in place of its masters, only to be instantaneously replenished by the humming generators to maintain the steadfast defense.
From their elevated positions, Hearthkyn Warriors returned fire. Bolt after bolt of blue plasma struck the rigid Necron ranks, lting tallic craniums with ease before the fallen constructs vanished in flashes of erald light.
"Hah! These tin cans are nothing compared to the proud Ironkin of the Votann! They're just oversized clockwork toys!" the Hearthkyn roared with laughter. Though the Necron Warriors were utterly fearless, these mindless, electrified mannequins were ponderous and stiff. Most critically, they lacked the cognitive capacity to lead their targets.
Despite their formidable technological advantages, these Warriors were often relegated to the role of fodder, relying on sheer attrition and the "true damage" of their gauss weaponry to grind the enemy into dust. However, such a war of exhaustion was aningless against the Necrons, a fact the Kin understood all too well.
The tide shifted as the Necrons' heavy ordnance arrived. The Doomsday Cannon of a Doomsday Ark unleashed a silent, thundering discharge that even the plasma shields struggled to weather. Slabs of masterwork masonry were shorn away like peeling bark. Any Kin caught in the blast, whether at or Iron, was instantaneously unmade at the molecular level.
Yvraine turned to Snorri, her voice urgent. "High King, this battle is an exercise in futility. We must destroy the Necron resurrection matrices, or this slaughter will never end."
"And what do you propose, Eldar?" Snorri grunted.
"My na is Yvraine," she reminded him coolly. "I shall lead my kin to strike at the resurrection hubs using our superior mobility. To do so, I require a diversion from the main gates to draw their gaze."
Snorri's white brows furrowed. "You ask the warriors of the Regulates to abandon the safety of the fortress and face those lethal weapons head-on?"
Yvraine shrugged. "It is rely a suggestion. There will be sacrifices, yes, but the risk is shared by both our peoples. If you refuse, My Lord, I am content to stand here and wither away beside you while we wait for a miracle that may never co."
Her logic was ironclad. After a mont of heavy deliberation, Snorri nodded. "Very well. I shall grant you what little trust I have to spare, Yvraine of the Aeldari. Einhyr Champions, to !"
"At your command, my King!"
"Let the Wrath of the Votann burn!"
…
Aboard his tomb flagship, Phaeron Isamakh observed the battlefield through six high-tech artificial intelligences that parsed every tactical variable. Even for his calculating mind, the situation on this planet was becoming tireso.
"Analysis suggests that the escalating war between the Orks and the Tyranids will render this world irrecoverable if allowed to persist," a synthesized voice chid in his mind.
Isamakh shook his head in irritation. "Beyond those two plagues, we have these furry, filth-ridden aliens to contend with. I will not have their verminous nests polluting my Dynasty. Eradicate these runts swiftly. My kingdom has no room for such lesser things."
"Zeram, I give you one month to level their walls!"
The Necron Overlord known as Zeram flourished his hyperphase glaive and bowed to his sovereign.
Under the Phaeron's command, legions of Necron Warriors and Immortals flooded the battlefield, intent on leveling the Kin fortress through overwhelming firepower. By the ti Zeram reached the front, a chanical sea had all but swallowed the fortification. Even as the Kin's railguns and plasma cannons roared, they could do little more than banish the puppets of the Necrons into temporary oblivion.
"Hehe... feel the embrace of despair, foolish creatures of flesh," Zeram sneered. He relished watching his foes be whittled down until their magazines ran dry, leaving only the sight of their terrified faces before they were torn asunder. These short-statured warriors were surely dood.
However, despite being one of the smaller Kindreds of the Urani-Surtr Regulates, the Kin possessed a resilience Zeram had fatally underestimated.
Just as the Necron sea began to crest against the walls like a zombie horde, the unknown alloy gates slamd open. Amidst a cacophony of engines and a storm of bolter fire, a strike force spearheaded by Hearthkyn and Ironkin, shielded by Sagitaur ATVs, thundered forth.
"These tin-skins haven't got the Votann's wit, and they certainly haven't got our grit! Get in there and take 'em apart!"
The weakness of the low-level Necron units was laid bare. The suddenness of the Kin sortie caught the "electrified mannequins" off guard. The Sagitaurs and Hekaton Land Fortresses crashed into the ranks with a deafening roar. Necron Warriors were crushed or sent flying before they could even level their rifles, as the Kin charge drove straight for the heart of the Overlord's position.
"What? These mortals dare?!" Zeram was montarily stunned by the suicidal bravado of the charge. Then, his Necrontyr pride flared. He diverted his entire focus toward these at-things that dared challenge his divinity.
"Excellent. Their Necrontyr minds are as predictable as ever," Yvraine noted, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"Yvraine, you need not go yourself. Leave it to ," The Visarch said, stepping beside her. "Dealing with them is but an appetizer; our true prize remains the Cronesword."
"Alas, these Kin are the only ones on this world worth speaking to," Yvraine replied with a sigh. "Stubborn as they are, they keep their word. Once we have aided them, we can claim our harvest in peace. One last ti… for Ynnead!"
"So be it."
With a blur of motion, the Aeldari host launched outward on jetbikes and grav-tanks, moving like a gale!
The Aeldari knew their ancient rivals' failings. Shuriken fire swept through the Necron lines, and because the automatons could not account for the Eldar's blistering speed, the strike force broke through the cordon with ease.
Their target was the resurrection machinery. Yet, they were unaware that another party had set their sights on the Necrons' advanced technology.
Skulking through the shadows, a band of Deathrunners led by an Eshin Assassin had already used their uncanny agility to slip into the Necron-occupied starport.
"Contract from Clan Resilience... yes-yes. Steal-take the Staff of Tomorrow, shiny Necron-things. Every piece, we take-take!"
Consulting a mission list scrawled on ancient parchnt, the Eshin Assassin hissed the orders to his apprentices.
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