Chapter 865 - 864

Fahra's clearest memories were those from before biotransference.

It had been sixty million years ago, when the Necrontyr experienced the most momentous and jubilant event in their entire history.¹

The brilliant pioneer Szarekh, the Silent King, announced that he had obtained the secret of immortality from the mighty C'tan.

It would allow the short-lived Necrontyr to escape their fear of death and disease, granting them eternal life.

It was what the Necrontyr desired above all else. A defect buried deep within their genes made their lives exceptionally brief and left them vulnerable to horrific cancers that no technology could cure.

Even though Necrontyr technology had reached its pinnacle and their empire had conquered the stars, they still could not change their fate.

They could not heal themselves.

The fear of death permeated every aspect of Necrontyr existence.

But now the Silent King promised that they could escape their short lives, free themselves from disease, and gain immortality.

They would be able to enjoy everything they possessed—and the splendors of the prosperous galaxy—forever.³

It was almost too wonderful to believe.

The entire Necrontyr race went wild with excitement. Their support for the Silent King reached unprecedented heights, and they willingly obeyed his every decree.

"We were so happy in those days. Every day felt like we were walking among the clouds as we waited for biotransference to begin."

Fahra's electronic voice murmured without the slightest fluctuation.

She was trying to remember what happiness had felt like.

But to her present self, happiness was merely a word.

It was something only beings with flesh and souls could experience.

In the Phaerakh's memories, the entire Necrontyr Empire had seethed with excitement. Countless celebrations took place every day. Nobles and commoners alike rejoiced at the coming of biotransference.

Fahra had been no exception.

Within her private chambers in the family's pyramid palace, she had spent every day eagerly awaiting its arrival.

Once it happened, she would be able to remain with her father and mother forever.

There would be no pain.

There would be nothing left to fear.

Her family belonged to the highest ranks of the Necrontyr nobility and ruled the Fahra Dynasty. They enjoyed the limitless resources of the stars.

They possessed vast territories and countless subjects. They could travel through system-spanning terraformed gardens and experience every form of entertainment imaginable.

Yet despite all that, the Fahra family was just as powerless against the Necrontyr's short lifespan as the humblest commoner.

Even with the most advanced life-extension treatments, they could live for no more than three hundred years.

During the final century of their lives, disease inevitably arrived and their bodies gradually deteriorated.

More horrifying still, no one could change it.

Not even the master of the Fahra Dynasty—Fahra's father—could escape that fate. Malignant tumors already covered his body, forcing him to conceal them beneath elaborate clothing and cosmetics.

He had, at most, another fifty years to live.

For a starfaring species, that was terrifyingly brief.

At the time, Fahra had been a Necrontyr girl of only fifty years. She could not bear to imagine the grief she would feel after losing her father and mother.

Nor did she dare imagine her own unblemished body eventually becoming covered in hideous tumors.

Fortunately, the brilliant and revered Silent King had brought salvation to the Necrontyr.

Their problem finally had a solution.

Every day, Fahra waited with breathless anticipation, following the progress of biotransference along with the rest of her people.

Before long, even better news arrived.

The technology had successfully passed its trials.

The Silent King ordered Illuminor Szeras to construct one immense biotransference complex after another.

Each complex was as large as a planet, allowing every Necrontyr to undergo the process, shed the weakness of flesh, and embrace eternity.

When the announcement came, the Necrontyr began another round of celebrations and feasts.

Smiles filled every face.

Everyone gave thanks for the blessings bestowed upon them by the Silent King and the C'tan.

As members of the highest nobility, Fahra's family was selected to join the first wave of biotransference.

What could possibly have been more exciting?

Young Fahra was so thrilled that she could not sleep. She rose early the next morning, dressed herself in her most magnificent ceremonial gown, and followed her father and mother to the mysterious biotransference complex.

The enormous machinery looked ugly and menacing, yet it radiated an irresistible allure.

It was the gateway to eternity.

"Father, will biotransference hurt?" young Fahra asked timidly.

Even if the structure before her was the gateway to eternity, its cold machinery and dark red furnaces still made her uneasy.

She had always been afraid of pain.

"My dear, from what I've heard, biotransference won't hurt at all," her father said playfully. "It might even tickle a little."

He was clearly in an excellent mood.

The high-ranking noble gently took the hands of his daughter and wife, soothing their anxiety.

To the short-lived Necrontyr, caring for one's family was of paramount importance. Their entire species placed extraordinary value upon producing and protecting the next generation.

It was an instinct written into their genes.

Only by behaving that way could their species continue to survive.

Feeling her father's warm hand around hers, young Fahra relaxed.

She lifted the hem of her gown and followed her parents along a path of white gravel toward the biotransference machinery.

It felt as though the path led toward every wonderful thing they had ever desired, even if the wind blowing across it was uncomfortably hot.

"From now on, I'll be able to live with Father and Mother forever," young Fahra thought happily. "And with the person I'll someday love."

She did not yet know who her future partner would be.

But it was something every young Necrontyr woman looked forward to, especially a noblewoman like her.

She had studied a vast range of knowledge, skills, and etiquette. She had even learned how to pilot and command immense warships.

One day, she would marry another Necrontyr noble, and together they would rule a dynasty of their own.

Yet the moment they crossed beneath the towering gateway, young Fahra's dreams were interrupted.

A strange sensation enveloped her body.

It wasn't pain.

It was a dreadful, unprecedented palpitation, as though something had suddenly been torn away from her.

Then her hand began to crumble like loose sand.

The rest of her body followed.

The young Necrontyr turned her head.

It wasn't happening only to her.

The bodies of her father and mother were disintegrating as well, turning to dust that scattered across the cold metal platform beneath their feet.

Then new matter began to form.

Living metal replaced their original bodies.

Young Fahra realized that she had lost all physical sensation.

But she had lost far more than that.

All that remained was an endless numbness.

She had hoped the hideous machine would free her from the weakness of flesh.

But not like this.

Her father and mother turned to look at her.

The familiar warmth had vanished from their eyes, replaced by the spectral gaze of electronic optics.

They were so cold.

"No! The C'tan deceived us! It was the Nightbringer—"

A Necrontyr noble's anguished voice suddenly rang out.

Then it fell silent.

Biotransference claimed him as well, stripping away even his capacity for anger.

Nothing could be undone.

Wave after wave of Necrontyr entered the biotransference complexes.

None of them understood what was happening until it was too late.

None could stop it.

Nor could they defy the will of the C'tan.

They could only obey.

Fahra eventually learned the truth.

The C'tan had devoured the souls of the Necrontyr, becoming even more powerful in the process.

It had all been a deception.

The Necrontyr, a great people who had yearned so desperately for life, lost their flesh, souls, and emotions.

They no longer possessed warmth or love. They could no longer treasure life or nature, nor enjoy anything that living beings experienced.

The Necrontyr had become cold bodies of living metal.

Killing machines.

What followed was an even greater war.

Every Necrontyr was drawn into it. Every resource was converted into weapons and warships, then committed to the conflict against the Old Ones.

Ultimately, the Necrons won the War in Heaven.

They also seized the opportunity to avenge themselves upon the C'tan who had deceived them.

Fahra's parents were completely devoured by the Nightbringer during that war of vengeance.

Fahra inherited the dynasty and participated in the final campaign to destroy the C'tan.

The power unleashed by the Star Gods was terrifying.

Stars fell and became lifeless wreckage. Entire star systems were consumed by flame.

Yet the Necrons relied upon the regenerative properties of living metal to return again and again.

In the end, they shattered the C'tan.

But even that could not restore their bodies or souls.

Afterward, Phaerakh Fahra followed the example of countless other dynastic rulers and entered a sixty-million-year slumber.

Only recently had they begun awakening one after another.

Fahra had been fortunate.

Her consciousness modules had suffered little damage, allowing her to retain her mind and memories largely intact.

Yet to her, this existence was an endless torment.

She yearned for a body.

She yearned to experience the beauty of life.

She wanted to feel sunlight and wind.

She wanted to swallow delicious food and taste it.

More than anything, she wanted to follow the path her parents had once walked. She wanted to meet someone she loved, rule their dynasty together, and bring new life into existence—children who belonged to them both.¹

"What does it truly feel like to be alive?"

Fahra gently swallowed the red wine contained in a jeweled golden goblet, trying to excavate some forgotten trace of life from the depths of her memory.

The Phaerakh had constructed a complete imitation of a living biological system for herself, including a digestive system.

But swallowing this human-made drink felt no different from processing a collection of data.

It meant nothing.

She envied humans, Aeldari, and every other living species.

They were free.

She was nothing more than a prisoner trapped within cold living metal.

Even death was almost impossible for her to attain.

Bzzzt—

A transmission arrived from her Royal Warden, his voice expressing absolute rationality.

"My liege, Phaerakh of the Fahra Dynasty, you have refused the Silent King's decree. This may provoke a war.

"Perhaps we should send him a formal greeting to reduce the potential risk.

"Strictly speaking, the Fahra Dynasty cannot resist his will. You, too, may be placed in danger."

Among the current Necron dynasties, only the Stormlord and a handful of other Phaerons possessed the strength to resist the Triarch Praetorians.

"No. The Fahra Dynasty will never again follow the deceiver who destroyed our race."

Fahra shook her head. She showed no respect whatsoever for the Silent King.

"Szarekh merely wishes to seize power again. He is constructing his malevolent machines so he can lead us into another abyss…"

The Phaerakh had no interest in the Silent King's grand vision.

Given the Necrons' current, pathetic state, what meaning would there be in ruling the galaxy again?

They had lost their bodies and souls, along with the culture in which they had once taken such pride.

They were nothing more than killing machines made from living metal.

Fahra also despised the blackstone pylons the Silent King had recently constructed.

The curtain generated by those malicious machines was even affecting the animals in the Alama Menagerie.

It made them dull and listless.

Those machines were destroying life.

They were destroying the beauty of the galaxy.

To Fahra, they felt no different from the machinery of biotransference.

They inspired the same instinctive revulsion.

If she hadn't feared retaliation from the Silent King, she would have destroyed every blackstone pylon within her tomb domains long ago.

The Royal Warden listened in silence and offered no further argument.

He was bound by loyalty protocols and required to obey the Phaerakh's commands.

Those were foundational protocols he could never violate. Serving as her royal retainer had been his duty for generations, and becoming living metal had not changed that.

He then delivered another report.

"My liege, the blind fanatics of the Sacred Soul Cult have ignored your warning and returned to the Alama System. Shall we shoot them down?"

"The new god and its believers…" Fahra said. "What are they trying to steal from the Necrontyr this time?"

Electrical currents raced through her consciousness modules.

She hadn't expected those fools to return to her territory so soon.

Fahra rejected both the C'tan and every form of religion.

So-called gods and their followers excelled at deception and manipulation. They constantly sought to consume souls and faith.

She would not allow another greedy deity to deceive her a second time.

That was why, no matter how enticing Phaeron Zabok's doctrines had sounded or how often he claimed the new god could restore their bodies and souls, Fahra had still expelled him.

She refused to permit the worshipers of any god to remain within her territory.

She had even warned them that if they returned, they would be greeted by overwhelming firepower.

Yet now a vessel belonging to the Sacred Soul Cult had brazenly entered the Alama System and was heading directly toward her primary Tomb World.

This was unquestionably a provocation!

Fahra turned away from the balcony, her pale living-metal body radiating the majesty of a supreme ruler.

She considered whether she should destroy the believers who had defied her will.

Doing so would not be difficult.

This was the heartland of the Fahra Dynasty. The Æonic Orb Array protecting her primary Tomb World could effortlessly destroy any warship that intruded upon the system.

Even Szarekh, the Silent King, would not casually enter the territory of a powerful Phaerakh without a great army at his back.

The cost would be devastating!

Before long, Phaerakh Fahra's command was transmitted.

…

Aboard the Tomb Ship…

"The Fahra Dynasty is wealthy," Eden said as he observed the Tomb Worlds along their route. "Even wealthier than I imagined…"

He had already known that the mechanical beauty Fahra possessed extraordinary wealth.

He simply hadn't expected her to be this rich.

The sight was almost enough to make him drool.

The main reason was that advanced Necron dynasties possessed countless treasures and pieces of incomprehensible technology that humanity lacked.

Towering pyramid structures pierced the clouds of those Tomb Worlds, while enormous machines operated between them.

Eden could even see several colossal war engines.

Among them were machines known as Abattoirs.

Those things were even larger than hive cities. They were supposedly the largest known Necron ground units.

They were terrifying enough to make anyone wet themselves.

At least, that was the conclusion contained in the Imperium's limited records. Guilliman's Indomitus Crusade fleet had previously encountered one and been completely dumbfounded.

They had no idea what the hell they were looking at.

What the Imperium did know was that an Abattoir was roughly the size of a small continent. It moved across a planet's surface on countless mechanical limbs, carried vast batteries of gauss weapons, and housed innumerable Canoptek Scarabs and Destroyer constructs.

It was a supermassive land-based war engine.

Some Necrons also called it the World Harvester.

The name was entirely literal.

It existed to harvest all life from a world.

Once deployed in a ground war, the machine became the ultimate instrument of annihilation. It could simply bulldoze through hive cities and fortress lines.

The Imperator-class Titan god-engines in which the old Imperium took such pride would look like miniature toy soldiers beside it.

Even with Eden's current power, stopping such a machine would demand a considerable price.

And Fahra—the wealthy mechanical beauty—possessed several of them.

That was enough to harvest numerous planets.

"The Necrons' accumulated wealth is terrifying. If every dynasty united, the Imperium would have an extremely difficult time holding them back."

After venturing deep into Necron territory and witnessing their strength firsthand, Eden became more concerned about the coming war.

A generational gulf existed between human and Necron weapons technology.

There was no helping it.

Humanity was a young species by galactic standards.

The Necrons had existed for tens of millions of years, giving them more than enough time to accumulate resources, weapons, and technology.

The only fortunate thing was that the Necrons had declined and become divided.

Everything would be fine as long as the Silent King failed to unite them.

Eden could even farm this ancient race for loot and seize the inheritance left behind from the height of their civilization.

"This place would make the perfect territory for the Sacred Soul Cult!"

After surveying the Fahra Dynasty's core tomb domains, Eden nodded with complete satisfaction.

"The Æonic Orb Array on their primary Tomb World alone would be enough to repel most enemies!"

Eden had previously stolen one Æonic Orb, a treasure capable of launching fragments of stellar plasma powerful enough to destroy planets.

Here, however, they had formed an entire array.

More than a dozen Æonic Orbs had been combined into an immense, system-scale super-artillery position.

Then there were the densely packed tomb fleets surrounding them.

The sight filled him with an overwhelming sense of security!

The Savior and sole Divine Emissary had officially set his sights on the Fahra Dynasty—and its wealthy mechanical Phaerakh.

He intended to take the entire package: Fahra, her wealth, and her territory.

Once he won over the wealthy Phaerakh, everything would belong to him.

The Sacred Soul Cult would begin its expansion in the Zone of Silence with its starting capital completely maxed out!

Zabok looked deeply concerned.

"Lord Divine Emissary, the probability of us acquiring the Fahra Dynasty is extremely low.

"Furthermore, the presence of the Æonic Orb Array means that as long as we remain within this system, we will be unable to escape its attacks."

The missionary's emotions had grown increasingly rich.

He knew that Phaerakh Fahra strongly disliked the Sacred Soul Cult.

Their return could place them in extreme danger.

"It's not a problem," Eden said.

The moment the words left his mouth, the Æonic Orb Array lit up.

(End of Chapter)

[Get +30 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Zaelum"]

[Every 300 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]

[Thanks for Reading!]