Chapter 866 - 865

"Lord Divine Emissary, our vessel has been targeted by the Æonic Orb Array on Fahra's primary Tomb World.

"If they fire, our chances of escaping this system are effectively zero!"

Zabok projected the sensor data as he delivered his report.

This Tomb Ship was powerful, but even it couldn't withstand an attack from that array. Those terrifying weapons were capable of destroying stars and annihilating entire tomb fleets.

"Have you initiated the communication protocols?

"I need to establish contact with Phaerakh Fahra. At the very least, we need an opportunity to meet."

Eden was momentarily speechless, but he wasn't particularly nervous.

If the Phaerakh opened fire, there was no way for him to escape anyway.

The Æonic Orb Array's range covered the entire system and extended far beyond it. It was essentially an ultra-long-range cosmic cannon.

"The communication protocol has been transmitted, but there is no guarantee Phaerakh Fahra will accept our request."

Zabok methodically controlled the Tomb Ship while carrying out Eden's commands.

"If she rejects the communication request, the Æonic Orb Array's attack will strike our Tomb Ship in five standard minutes.

"However, I have activated the Tomb Ship's shields. They should allow us to survive for approximately… another one-thirtieth of a standard minute."¹

"Mm."

Eden showed little reaction.

Whether the shields were active or not wouldn't affect the outcome. At most, they would let everyone aboard die with slightly more dignity.

Time slowly passed.

The presence of death enveloped the Tomb Ship, and even the air seemed to grow oppressive.

Every life aboard the vessel had entered its final countdown.

"My lord, did you know?

"According to my original plans, once this missionary journey ended, I was going to taste the finest caviar from the ocean world of Fala.

"The children I rescued are also waiting for me to return."

Zabok's electronic voice sounded somber, and the ghostly light in his eyes dimmed.

He projected an image.

It showed him posing with several human children, all of them smiling brightly.

The emotions of this living-metal governor and Phaeron had become increasingly rich. He now seemed almost like a genuine living being.

It was a blessing granted by the new god, the great Pluto.

Zabok felt that he had taken another step toward regaining flesh and a soul.

Eden drew a deep breath while screaming internally.

"This is exactly when you're not supposed to say things like that! There weren't any death flags, so you just had to plant one yourself?

"You fake human!"

Complaints aside, Eden continued playing his role as a divine prophet.

He looked toward Zabok.

"Missionary, the new god's favor upon you has deepened once more. You have taken a great step forward. Your flesh and soul will return in the near future."

"Praise the new god."

Zabok was delighted. He had been working tirelessly to become a true human.

Eden said nothing more.

He stared at Fahra's primary Tomb World and waited for the outcome.

He had already prepared himself for the mission to fail, for the stellar fragment to strike, and for the ship and everyone aboard to be destroyed.

It would be a major loss.

It would also mean he could no longer obtain Fahra or the dynasty's priceless assets.

The only fortunate part was that everyone aboard the Tomb Ship was a Necron—including Eden, the Divine Emissary.

Even if they died, the Protocol of Recall would transmit them back to a Tomb World, where they could be repaired or reanimated.

That was one of the advantages of possessing a living-metal body.

Just before the countdown ended, the communication protocol was finally accepted and a connection established.

A holographic projection of Phaerakh Fahra appeared, followed by her unexpectedly pleasant feminine electronic voice.

"Madmen of the Sacred Soul Cult, I am the Phaerakh of Fahra, the World Harvester. Give me one reason not to destroy you."

Eden did not answer immediately.

He waited several seconds before slowly speaking.

"Phaerakh Fahra, I am the emissary of the new god. You will not destroy us. You never will.

"Not unless you reject your own soul, refuse to escape your prison of living metal, and condemn the Necrontyr to eternal despair."

Fahra stared at Eden, the new god's emissary, seemingly surprised.

She remained silent for a time.

In the end, she did not issue the command to fire.

"You will be permitted to enter my primary Tomb World. This is your final opportunity."

With those words, the Phaerakh severed the connection.

"Begin the landing procedures," Eden said. "We're going to meet Phaerakh Fahra. This will determine the future of the Sacred Soul Cult."

His confidence in the mission had increased.

As long as he could approach the Phaerakh, he could spread the emotional virus and persuade her to accept the Sacred Soul Cult.

…

Fahra's Primary Tomb World.

Inside the great hall, sunlight fell across the marble and gave it a soft luster. The surrounding decorations were entirely unlike the dark and somber furnishings of other Tomb Worlds.

Escorted by her Royal Guards, Fahra slowly entered the hall.

She wore an elaborate ceremonial gown.

Its design dated back to the height of Necrontyr civilization and perfectly accentuated the young noblewoman's golden proportions.

After biotransference, however, Necron nobles had largely stopped wearing formal garments.

Clothing was something creatures of flesh wore.

Fahra had preserved many of her old gowns, though even she rarely wore them.

For some reason, however, she had taken particular care with her appearance today, dressing like a young noblewoman preparing to attend a banquet before biotransference.

Beneath the Phaerakh's golden mask was the face of a young woman.

Biotransference had permanently preserved the Necrontyr at the moment they entered the furnaces. Yet few Necrons continued maintaining their original appearances as Fahra did.

There was little practical purpose in doing so.

"That Divine Emissary is different from the other Necrontyr," Fahra thought.

She had noticed that the emissary dressed like the Necrontyr nobles preserved in her memories, wearing ceremonial garments from their civilization's golden age.

He did not resemble the other fanatical madmen.

He looked more like the prince of some Necrontyr dynasty.

A mysterious prince.

Fahra reached the center of the hall and lightly folded her hands before her abdomen, waiting for her guest to arrive.

Before long, Eden appeared at the top of the staircase and stepped onto the white marble floor.

He wore a jeweled mask and magnificent formal attire. His six-meter-tall body towered over Fahra and radiated an aura of nobility.

Were it not for the exposed sections of living metal, anyone might have mistaken him for a living Necrontyr.

"Lady Fahra, I am most fortunate to make your acquaintance."

Eden's voice was gentle.

He performed an elegant greeting once exchanged between Necrontyr nobles.

Fahra's data streams briefly stalled.

Then, almost without understanding why, the Phaerakh responded.

"Lord Emissary."

She lightly lifted the hem of her gown and curtsied to Eden.

It was the greeting a young noblewoman would offer a gentleman of similar age.

The exchange puzzled the Royal Guards, Zabok, and the others, but it unquestionably eased the tension in the hall.

No one had expected the Phaerakh, who despised religious fanatics, to treat the Divine Emissary so politely.

That was where Eden possessed a unique advantage.

He had thoroughly studied Necrontyr culture—more thoroughly, in fact, than many of the living-metal shells whose memories had deteriorated.

Of course, the relevant historical materials had come from the vaults of Trazyn the Infinite.

That bastard had collected most of the surviving cultural heritage of the Necrontyr.

Eden's Greenskin Tomb-Raiders had plundered several of Trazyn's vaults, driving the Infinite Archaeovist into a towering rage.¹

Those records taught Eden that while ancient Necrontyr culture had contained many traditions surrounding death and tombs, it hadn't always been as gloomy as modern Necron society.

They had once possessed a brilliant civilization of their own, complete with elaborate etiquette, entertainment, and culture comparable to humanity's.

Any civilization capable of becoming a galactic hegemon inevitably developed a refined sense of beauty.

Even the Drukhari, depraved as they later became, had once possessed magnificent artistic traditions.

After hundreds of thousands of years of accumulated development, their art had reached its pinnacle and even surpassed humanity's in many respects.

Humanity had simply refused to understand it.

The old Imperium's attitude toward xenos had been to shoot first and keep firing until the foul creatures were exterminated.

The new Imperium was more tolerant and pragmatic. It sought to understand and study the cultures of every xenos species so it could deal with them more effectively.

Eden had chosen Fahra as his opening for a reason.

Even among the Necrons, she was an anomaly.

She enjoyed collecting relics from the Necrontyr's past and did everything possible to maintain her former way of life.

That much was evident from this Tomb World and her attire.

Even after becoming a living-metal organism, she continued playing the role she had occupied in life.

She had probably been a pampered little princess.

Eden had therefore come prepared, carefully tailoring his appearance and behavior to her preferences.

After all, most other high-ranking Necrons were completely deranged. They didn't even wear underwear, wandering around the galaxy as bare metal skeletons.

Eden and Fahra both possessed mechanical bodies that resembled living flesh, and both wore formal attire.

That gave them a much better foundation for conversation.

"Lord Emissary, if you came here to persuade me to worship your new god, then I must refuse.

"However, I will not attack you again. Perhaps you may become one of the Fahra Dynasty's allies."

Fahra no longer sounded as cold as before, but her rejection of divinity remained firm.

Her meaning was clear.

They could maintain friendly relations, but she would not accept the Sacred Soul Cult.

That wasn't good news for Eden.

Such an alliance offered little value to the cult.

He wanted the Fahra Dynasty to integrate completely into the Sacred Soul Cult and transform its territory into the cult's central stronghold.

"Lady Fahra, may I ask why?" Eden asked instead of attempting to persuade her further.

"You already know the answer. Gods cannot be trusted. The Necrontyr once worshiped the C'tan.

"In the end, we became their slaves. Even our souls became their food."

Fahra's electronic voice grew colder.

"I do not believe your so-called new god can grant us flesh and souls. Such a thing is impossible.

"This new god is merely another deception."

"No! The new god is omnipotent! He can bring us salvation!"

Zabok could no longer tolerate Phaerakh Fahra's slander of the new god. He stepped forward as he spoke.

Bzzzt—

The Royal Guards ignited their hyperphase staves and aimed them at Zabok and the others.

Eden's followers activated their own hyperphase weapons in response.

The atmosphere abruptly became tense as both sides prepared for battle.

Eden gently raised a hand.

A wave of particles spread through the hall, signaling Zabok and the others to withdraw.

Then he looked back toward Fahra.

"No matter how strongly you deny it, the gods have always exerted immense influence over the Necrontyr.

"Even our short lifespans may have resulted from a curse of the C'tan.

"The Nightbringer used radiation to drain the Necrontyr's vitality, condemning us to incurable disease and suffering during the final years of our lives."

Fahra froze.

She had never considered the true origin of the Necrontyr's suffering.

Yet her logical analysis told her that the Divine Emissary might be correct.

The C'tan had secretly drained the Necrontyr's vitality and filled them with fear.

Then, through biotransference, they harvested their souls.

In truth, Eden had no idea whether any of this was correct.

It was merely a hypothesis he had invented to demonstrate the power of divine Authorities. He possessed no evidence whatsoever.

However, the Authorities wielded by the C'tan could indeed exert an immense influence upon the galaxy.

Like the Chaos Gods, they could interfere with and distort living beings.

"If great gods can take away the souls of the Necrontyr, then another great god can naturally restore them.

"That is the inevitable conclusion."

Ignoring the hyperphase staves pointed in his direction, Eden stepped toward Fahra.

"Do you not wish to regain your soul and body? The new god has granted us hope of restoration.

"Besides, we have nothing left to lose."

Fahra's data-consciousness began fluctuating violently.

The Divine Emissary's words were incredibly tempting.

He was right.

The Necrontyr had spent millions of years imprisoned within cold cages of living metal, enduring eternal torment.

What else did they have left to lose?

The Necrons' miserable existence was not so different from the fate of human souls captured by the Chaos Gods.

It was an eternity of suffering and torment.

"Halt!

"This is the Phaerakh's domain! Unauthorized entities are forbidden from approaching!"

The Royal Guards' eyes turned crimson, and terrifying ripples of energy gathered around their hyperphase staves.

They issued their final warning in low-frequency mechanical voices.

Eden ignored every warning protocol.

He approached the contemplative Fahra and extended his hand toward her.

Crackle!

That triggered the Royal Guards' attack protocols.

Their hyperphase staves fired searing beams, while gauss warblades slashed toward him.

Bzzzt—

A far more powerful force field erupted from Eden's body.

It blocked every searing beam and hurled the attacking Royal Guards across the hall.

Then Eden took Fahra's hand.

Her touch was cool and unexpectedly soft.

Living-metal organics had originally been developed by the Necrontyr to heal biological bodies. They could even imitate the texture of flesh.

"You have violated the peace protocol!"

Fahra finally reacted.

Strong fluctuations entered her electronic voice, and she was clearly preparing to attack.

The Phaerakh was even more powerful than Eden had expected.

This was also her territory. If she wished, she could destroy every member of the Sacred Soul Cult present, including the Divine Emissary himself.

"Lady Fahra, you're angry."

Eden fearlessly pulled the Phaerakh closer, displaying no concern whatsoever.

"How… How is that possible?"

Fahra froze in disbelief.

She could clearly perceive that she was angry.

It was a genuine and powerful emotion, not something produced by a data simulation.

She had not felt anything like it since biotransference.

"You're frightened and confused," Eden continued. "You're worried about what's happening. You're even a little excited."

Panic seized Fahra, and she forgot to attack him.

"What… What have you done to my data modules?!"

"No. I haven't done anything to you.

"I have merely returned something that always belonged to you.

"That is the power of the new god.

"Today, you have regained your emotions. In the future, you will truly recover your soul and body."

Eden continued his deception.

All he had actually done was administer an enormous dose of the emotional virus to the Phaerakh.

The result was astonishing.

It simulated emotion.

Perhaps those feelings were real. Perhaps they were false.

Even the Imperium's researchers had yet to determine the answer.

But it was undeniably effective.

Eden gazed into Fahra's eyes, his voice gentle.

"Look at me, Lady Fahra. What do you feel?"

Fahra looked at the mysterious Divine Emissary, that prince-like figure standing before her.

An inexplicable panic rose inside her, and she found herself unable to meet his gaze.

She lowered her head.

The sensation was strange.

Her data streams raced chaotically, yet she did not feel strongly repulsed. She couldn't decide whether she should push him away and activate her defensive protocols.

Part of her even wanted to remain beside him a little longer.

"I… I don't know."

Fahra stood frozen in place, uncertain how she should respond.

She had no experience with feelings like these.

"I know," Eden thought. "This is what they call pure love."

He had just infected the Phaerakh with an exceptionally potent emotional virus known as Pure Love.

Naturally, it wasn't direct mind control.

The virus merely simulated the sensation and created an illusion of those emotions.

What happened in the end would still depend upon Fahra's genuine choice.

This was Eden's ultimate objective:

A pure-love pig-butchering romance scam aimed specifically at a high-ranking Necrontyr Phaerakh!

Among the historical records of the Necrontyr, he had discovered that they placed tremendous importance upon family. They had also experienced romantic love much as humans did.

In fact, most intelligent species possessed similar emotions.

But because the Necrontyr's lives had been so short, their love had burned even more intensely.

More importantly, biotransference had preserved every Necrontyr in the condition they had possessed at the moment of conversion.

By the standards of her species, Phaerakh Fahra was roughly equivalent to an eighteen-year-old human woman.

She had almost certainly possessed similar romantic hopes and dreams.

The probability was extremely high.

"Damn, I really am a bastard," Eden thought. "I'm even deceiving an innocent mechanical girl like her…"

Yet Eden—the Savior and handsomest Necrontyr around—did not hesitate to make his move upon the young woman whose emotions had been suppressed by biotransference for sixty million years.

The pig-butchering romance scam had officially begun!¹

(End of Chapter)

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