[You face an uncountable number of motionless metallic bodies, every pair of green eyes in the space locked onto you with a precision that has nothing human in it.]
[You swallow.]
[Your gaze moves across the full extent of the containment area, the scale of it, the density of the assembled Necron frames, and even you feel the edges of something unfamiliar. Not quite fear. But close enough to the border of it that you notice its presence.]
[Fulgrim's clone takes a slow breath beside you. When he speaks, his voice is careful.]
["Brother. What if we return the scepter to him first, and then work out an escape from a position of slightly less immediate danger?"]
["Fulgrim." You cannot quite help the cold sound that comes out of you. "Do you think that would work?"]
[Cold sweat is running down through your blood-matted gray hair and leaving pale streaks across your cheeks. You are aware of it. You do not have time to care about it.]
["Run."]
[You strain the vibranium armor to full output and release a sound that is somewhere between a war cry and something that simply needed to get out of your chest. You take the Empathic Obliterator in your grip, the Ten Rings forming their halo above your pack, and drive yourself toward the section of the containment area where the Necron density is marginally thinner.]
[Fulgrim's clone overtakes you in the first three strides. The Blood Scythe in his grip comes around in a wide, green-lit arc and hits the Necron formation like the leading edge of something that does not intend to stop.]
[Hissing sounds...]
[Metallic limbs and heads rise and fall in a wave ahead of him. You come through behind, driving the edge of the Empathic Obliterator into the nearest Necron Warrior.]
[Boom!]
[The contact of the scepter's edge against one metallic frame propagates instantly. Every Necron converging on the two of you from the same direction is struck simultaneously by the same force, some of them driven backward, some blown clear off their feet entirely, the shared-damage mechanic of the weapon working exactly as it had against you and Fulgrim's clone when Trazyn used it.]
["That's it!" You are already swinging it again, laughing without quite meaning to. "No wonder Trazyn carries this as his constant weapon. The acausal mechanics built into this thing make it more valuable than either of us! The ancient race that designed it deserves genuine respect!"]
["Brother!" Fulgrim's clone's voice comes from behind you, strained in a way that suggests he is dealing with several things at once. "Please stop talking and stop provoking the Overlord! And your recklessness..." He makes a sharp sound of frustration. "It reminds me unbearably of Leman Russ's face. A face I had hoped never to think about again."]
["That is because I carry the heart of a wolf king!"]
[You shout it back at him over your shoulder and keep moving.]
[The Empathic Obliterator opens a path through the Necron mass that neither of you could have managed with conventional weapons alone. Every stroke you land damages everything around the point of contact, clearing ground in radius rather than in single targets. Fulgrim's clone covers your rear with the Blood Scythe, his technique with the unfamiliar weapon sharpening with each passing exchange, the arcs becoming tighter and more precise, the blade occasionally catching Gauss flayer beams on its flat and deflecting them clean.]
["Fulgrim! I clear the path! You hold the rear!"]
[Boom!]
[From the far metal corridors, heavy weapons have appeared: large Necron frames bearing Gauss Cannons, arranging their fields of fire with the unhurried patience of machines operating within a plan.]
[A thick beam of concentrated green energy crosses most of the containment area in less than a second. The stasis field base it strikes does not gradually fail. It simply stops existing. The aliens inside it, still cycling through the first movements of waking from stasis, are vaporized before any of them completes a single motion.]
["Fulgrim! Nothing stops heavy Gauss fire! Do not try to block it, only dodge!"]
[You drive your vibranium armor into a hard angle change, pulling away from the next fire corridor, and raise the Empathic Obliterator high.]
[The beam that erupts from it is bright enough to bleach the metal walls white for an instant, aimed directly at the Necron controlling the nearest Gauss Cannon.]
[The beam connects. The Necron does not fall.]
[Nothing happens.]
["We have been deceived again." The realization arrives quickly, somewhere between anger and grudging acknowledgment. "That is one of Trazyn's standard methods: he has conditioned the weapon to fire conventional energy in an enemy's hands, or calibrated the local Necrons to shield against its obliterative function when it is no longer in his possession."]
[Your hand is already up. The Ten Rings detach from their halo formation and launch from above your pack like a volley of guided munitions, each ring tracking independently toward a different heavy weapons operator. The results are considerably more physical and considerably less elegant than the Empathic Obliterator, but the Gauss Cannons stop firing.]
[The two of you use the break to create separation from the main body of the pursuit. The Necron mass thins as you drive deeper into the museum's interior passages, the density dropping from impossible to merely severe.]
[You reach a junction: the corridor splits in two directions.]
[You summon the Ten Rings back without looking and turn to Fulgrim's clone.]
["Fulgrim. There is no end to the number of Necrons in Trazyn's collection. The two of us cannot fight our way out of this place on those terms. The numbers are simply not workable."]
[Fulgrim's clone is already listening with the focused attention of someone waiting for the next part.]
["Trazyn's museum contains prisoners from every era and every species. Chaos Astartes. Xenos. Imperial forces. Whoever among them can still communicate, whoever can still form intent and follow a plan: we recruit them. We build a force large enough to flip this situation entirely and bring it directly to Trazyn."]
[A slow breath moves through Fulgrim's clone. His purple eyes are bright.]
["Brother." The corner of his mouth moves. "I trust your judgment entirely. Let's go and overturn this whole Tombworld together."]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGaruda
You'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~