[If you are reading this correctly, that is a C'tan Shard that has been repurposed as the Tombworld's primary power source.]
[Across the entire galaxy, only the Necrons have the technology and the inclination to use C'tan Shards as batteries. The act of containing a fragment of a god and drawing energy from it is exactly the kind of thing Trazyn would consider a masterwork of collection.]
[The worse problem is that the C'tan Shard cannot help you leave. Destroying the containment device would not free anything useful. It would simply unleash what is inside it, and what is inside it, uncontained in an enclosed space, would end everything in the immediate area without distinguishing between Necrons, Astartes, Primarchs, or anyone else.]
[A soft sound comes out of you. Not quite a laugh.]
[Even Fulgrim's clone glances over at the sound.]
["I should have worked this out earlier." You are talking mostly to yourself. "With Trazyn's resources and methods, acquiring a C'tan Shard would not have been difficult for him. Of course this is what sits at the center of his Tombworld."]
[You turn to Fulgrim's clone and give him a brief account of what the C'tan Shards actually are: what they were before the Necrons shattered and imprisoned them, what it cost the Necrontyr to do it, and what it means that one of those fragments has been sitting here, in Trazyn's personal power grid, for longer than most civilizations have existed.]
[Fulgrim's clone's expression changes as you speak. His understanding of Trazyn and of the Necrons shifts to accommodate what you are telling him, expanding to a scale that clearly requires some adjustment.]
[Buzzing sound.]
[You raise a vibranium hand without further comment and project several of the Ten Rings outward, directing them to mark the points on the cubic structure's exterior that matter for what comes next.]
[The Salamander re-enters the building behind you a moment later.]
["Collect every explosive your brothers and the mortal soldiers are carrying," you tell him, keeping your eyes on the C'tan Shard across the chamber. "Thermal charges are preferable. Whatever you have is what we will use."]
[The Salamander looks at you for a brief moment with the expression of a man who has understood what you are planning. He nods once, firmly, and goes out without a word.]
["Brother." Fulgrim's clone's voice is quiet. "Are you planning to..."]
["Once the containment device breaks, the Shard will cause damage to this Tombworld that Trazyn cannot repair or undo." You tilt your head back slightly and meet his eyes. "But everyone in the immediate area when it happens will not survive it. I am sorry, Fulgrim. If I were here in my true form, I might have the capacity to get everyone out. But this version of me is a construct made from my original. In some ways I am no different from you: present, capable, and limited by the form I am running in."]
[Fulgrim's clone holds your gaze for a long moment.]
["I understand you, brother." His voice carries nothing complicated: no reproach, no fear, just clarity. "Without you, I would still be caught in a loop, chasing a possibility I could not reach alone. You gave me back the ability to act."]
[He straightens to his full height. The damaged armor, the blood-soaked white hair, the longsword gone and the Blood Scythe returned to you: none of it diminishes what he looks like in this moment.]
["To die as a Primarch, in battle, having chosen correctly: that is better than becoming a puppet of Chaos again or a trophy in a Necron collection. I am Fulgrim. Son of the Emperor. I am still the proud Phoenix of the Imperium. And I am your blood brother."]
[He pauses.]
["Come, brother. Let us walk that final path to glory together. Perhaps one day we will meet again beneath the Emperor's throne."]
[He shows you a genuine smile: unhurried, warm, without pretension, the face that the original must have worn before everything went wrong. Then his massive terracotta hand comes down on your shoulder armor once, heavy and certain.]
[He activates what remains of his power armor and walks out of the building without looking back.]
[You watch his silhouette shrink against the corridor light until it is gone.]
[A long breath moves through you.]
["...I am sorry, brother. If I had played this better, perhaps none of you except me would have had to die here."]
[You look at the C'tan Shard one final time. Then you follow him out.]
[The preparations do not take long. The Salamander has gathered every explosive in the alliance's possession: the remaining molten bombs, high-explosive grenades from the Vostroyans, breaching charges from the Deathwatch kit. All of it goes into the World Nexus building, planted with the precision of a man who has been thinking about structural demolition since he first understood what was inside.]
[You stand outside with Fulgrim's clone, the detonator in your palm, watching the space undead close in from every direction. Fulgrim's clone has spoken to what remains of the force. The survivors stand behind you in silence, weapons ready, having heard what is coming and chosen to hold their ground regardless.]
[Then the Necrons stop.]
[The encircling mass pulls back by increments, parting to open a wide corridor of empty space leading directly to your position. Trazyn is taking his time. A trapped and cornered coalition will burn through its strength and its explosives faster if left to consider the odds. He is patient now.]
[Several tens of minutes pass.]
[Then Trazyn comes.]
[The body is different: larger, more ornate, clearly drawn from a reserve of higher quality than the standard Overlord frame. The Empathic Obliterator is not in his hand, for obvious reasons. In his palm instead, rotating slowly in mid-air above his fingers, is a twelve-sided cube whose surface catches every available light and reflects it back in a faint metallic shimmer that has no single source.]
["Perhaps you believe that destroying the C'tan Shard's containment will bring catastrophe to my Tombworld." Trazyn's voice carries the patience of something that has already decided how this ends. "Then you human collectibles have thoroughly underestimated me."]
[He raises the hand holding the cube slightly.]
["This is the master control module for a Tesseract Labyrinth that encompasses the entire Tombworld. I completed the foundational time-node modifications a very long time ago. A single activation from me and every battle you have fought here, every sacrifice made, every ground taken: all of it ceases to have occurred. You may return to a time node I cannot even specify in advance. Your will, your methods, your suffering: meaningless. Every iteration of it."]
[The silence behind you is absolute.]
[Fulgrim's clone's expression does not become afraid. It becomes darker, in the way of someone absorbing information that cannot be argued with.]
[The Astartes, who have been facing their own deaths with equanimity since before this offensive began, tighten their grips on their weapons. If what Trazyn is saying is true, even death is no longer available to them. The loops would simply continue until Trazyn decided otherwise.]
[You take a breath.]
["Tsk tsk." You steer your vibranium armor forward a few steps, your eyes finding Trazyn's face and staying there. "You are correct, Trazyn. Measured against Necron technology, we are primitives. Barely past the stone age in relative terms." You let that sit for exactly a moment. "It is a pity, though. That the Necrons allowed the C'tan to convince an entire civilization to trade its flesh for metal bodies. The complete extinction of the Necrontyr as living beings. That is quite a price to pay for something that was sold to you as ascension."]
[A faint sound from Trazyn's chassis.]
["Young Primarch, if you believe that kind of sarcasm will destabilize me tactically, you have miscalculated. I am simply an Overlord who collects things. The future of the Necron species is the Silent King's particular burden to carry. I have never shared his sentimentality on that subject."]
[His green eyes steady on you.]
["Besides: this matter between us is personal. You stole my scepter."]
[You slow your approach and stop. You tilt your head very slightly.]
["I think you may have misread my intention." You meet his gaze and hold it. "I wanted to give the Necrons something. A possibility they have not had in a very long time."]
["Oh?"]
["I am not here to destroy anything, Trazyn."]
[You let the detonator hang at your side without concealing it, and you do not lower the Blood Scythe either. You simply look at the Overlord of Solemnace with the expression of someone who has thought about this from the other side of the table.]
["I am here to negotiate."]
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