Emerald light surged through the dark room, and quantum entanglement transmitted information from a distant shore.
The energy gradually took shape in the darkness, condensing into translucent shadows, appearing as a holographic projection in mid-air.
First to appear were two tall Necrons, standing on a high platform made of black stone, suspended in mid-air, holding staffs that glowed with an eerie green light, their eyes burning with emerald flames as they looked down into the room.
They were the two Phaerons of the Three Saints Council, besides the Silent King; their immense size dwarfed even an Astartes, but compared to the figure at the center of the black stone throne, they seemed insignificant.
That tall, slender figure was twice as tall as the two Phaerons, his body seemingly forged from immortal mithril, draped in a strange cloak that shimmered with energy, his eyes burning and shining like toxic stars.
However, he did not reveal his face, but wore an exquisite golden mask, on which was carved a handsome, elegant, sacred, and slightly sorrowful face. At the center of this face, a ruby, like sacred blood, hung from his brow.
It was a golden mask carved with the face of Sanguinius. Ten thousand years ago, Sanguinius and the Silent King had met by chance and formed a certain degree of friendship.
The Silent King marveled that such a primitive race as humanity could produce something so beautiful and sacred, and thus cherished this friendship.
When he heard Sanguinius' hopeful words, the Silent King took out this golden mask and placed it over his face, as a token of his remembrance of Sanguinius' friendship.
For the Silent King, this was a slight lowering of his status, but out of nostalgia for that brief friendship ten thousand years ago, the Silent King allowed this small act that did not quite conform to his status.
The Silent King bowed his head from above, his burning eyes looking into the dark room, expecting to see that beautiful golden face—
He saw a power armor interwoven with ultramarine and gold, and a face that was uninteresting, rational, serious, showing the fatigue of long work, even with wrinkles and some white strands in his golden hair.
That face somewhat resembled the head printed on ancient human coins, but it was not worthy of the Silent King's gaze.
What is this thing?
A blue monkeigh ruler?
Looks ambitious?
Where is my Sanguinius?
"Listen, humble being, I am Hapsatras the Radiant, a member of the Three Saints Council, one of the three supreme rulers of the Necrons, and the servant and mouthpiece of Silent King Szarekh."
One of the Phaerons spoke in a string of high gothic that even Guilliman found extremely complex.
This was a custom of the Necrons and the ancient Necrontyr.
The Silent King, true to his name, was silent and unmoving, never directly conveying his will.
Instead, the two Phaerons who shared his position on the Three Saints Council spoke for him.
"Szarekh is the Silent King, Szarekh is the Lord of the Galaxy, Szarekh is the destroyer of gods, Szarekh is eternity, Szarekh is death, Szarekh is the savior and re-creator of worlds."
"Szarekh asks of you, vile one: Who are you? Where is the pure Sanguinius?"
"I am Roboute Guilliman, the Thirteenth Primarch, brother of Sanguinius, and Regent of the Imperium," Guilliman replied in a calm tone to the Silent King, neither humble nor arrogant.
"The great Szarekh perceives your foolishness. Sanguinius could have been the hope of your race, replacing the mummified sorcerer-manipulator to lead your people. Yet, your foolish human race chose... an ambitious coin-head to lead you."
Ambitious coin-head.
Fulgrim, hidden in the darkness, almost burst out laughing, but Guilliman was a seasoned statesman and was not swayed by such a mere nickname.
He turned his head slightly, looking into the darkness.
Golden light instantly surged forth, and Sanguinius' figure appeared from the shadows, smiling as he looked at Szarekh.
"Silent King, old friend, please do not misunderstand."
"We Primarchs are all sons of the Emperor, and we all understand that the ruler of humanity is only the Emperor. I have never thought of usurping the Emperor's position."
"Although Guilliman appears ambitious, he has never thought of lording over us. He is equal to us; he is the spokesman for us and our race."
"Just as Hapsatras the Radiant is your mouthpiece, Guilliman is also my, the other Primarchs', the Emperor's, humanity's, and Saint Doraemon's mouth. What he says is what I want to say to you."
The Silent King's gaze shifted slightly, and he gently reached up to remove the Sanguinius golden mask from his face, revealing his metallic skeletal visage.
Szarekh's eyes swept through the darkness, giving a slight nod to Sanguinius.
This was the greatest degree of respect permissible for the Silent King.
"Sanguinius! The Pure One! The noble born of a lowly race!"
"Szarekh greets you, and offers you infinite respect. We shall converse with your mouthpiece to determine the fate of your race!"
Hapsatras the Radiant bowed to Sanguinius with the Necron ritual for an Phaeron, then looked at Guilliman standing before them:
"In the name of Szarekh, you must acknowledge your transgressions. Anrakyr is a shameless traitor, and Trazyn is a disgraceful petty thief. Both are criminals of our Necron Empire, and your association with them is truly sinful."
"However, the Silent King is magnanimous and understands your ignorance, knowing that you were misled by traitors. Szarekh's blade shall capture the culprits, and you shall not obstruct him."
"The Imperium of Man is willing to cooperate with the Necron Empire to extradite criminals, but your race and my race are not allies and have no extradition treaty. According to the laws common to all races in the galaxy, should this matter not be discussed after humanity and the Necrons formally become allies?" Guilliman smiled, skillfully changing the subject.
Hapsatras the Radiant, however, let out a nearly scornful laugh.
He slightly waved his arm, and countless light points flashed before him, transforming into hundreds and thousands of images, which included different scenes of humanity from various eras.
"We know what your feeble Imperium is. Our astrologers, with technology beyond your comprehension, have recreated the quantum trajectories of your race. Your dominion is insignificant, your technology too primitive, your might extremely weak, and your monarch merely an old piece of jerky manipulating sorcerers."
"You are unwilling to admit it, but the truth is that your race has declined. Even at your peak, you were still insignificant to the great Necron Dynasty."
"But, our Lord, Silent King Szarekh, in his benevolence, permits your existence alongside Necron civilization."
"As allies? As friends?" Guilliman inquired.
"As slaves," Hapsatras the Radiant declared. "We do not need allies, nor do we need friends, but Lord Szarekh, based on his personal friendship with Sanguinius, grants you the greatest generosity: you may implore to exist as legal slaves of the Necron Empire."
"Your race shall be protected by the Necron Empire, you shall be subject to a tithe, one-tenth of your population and resources shall serve the Necron stellar Imperium. If you make an appeal, the Silent King will receive your delegation and discuss the matters of humanity's submission and surrender to the Necron stellar Imperium."
"And Sanguinius shall exist as an Phaeron of your human race, standing alongside us in high position."
"No, Silent King, you need humanity; you need to form an alliance with us."
Guilliman's gaze did not turn to Hapsatras the Radiant, but directly to the Silent King:
"Humanity can give you what you desire, humanity can reverse the greatest sorrow of your race, humanity can reverse your biotransference."
"Szarekh, I offer the Necron race the terms of an alliance with humanity: Saint Doraemon will bestow souls upon your race, banishing the coldness from your steel bodies, allowing you to truly live in this world."
"And what you must give in return is to become allies with humanity, to share glory and shame with humanity, and to face the endless crises of this galaxy together with humanity."
Hapsatras the Radiant froze in place, as if his will had suddenly been drained.
The emerald flames in the Silent King's eyes flickered violently a few times; he abruptly looked at Guilliman, then at Sanguinius.
Just then, Trazyn's voice resounded: "Your Majesty, Silent King, I am Trazyn, a memory copy of Trazyn the Infinite, Chief Archivist of the Necrontyr, a false, hollow metal automaton, a fool who once personally pushed his friends into a scorching furnace."
"Sixty million years ago, you asked me if biotransference should be performed. I answered you: 'Nothing is more terrifying than death; death caused all the tragedies of our race.' "
"I claimed then that I had derived the answer from the past history of the Necrontyr, but I think I merely gave a wrong answer out of my fear."
"At that time, Orikan had a tumor in his brain, and that tumor was even beginning to affect that genius mind. I feared that a genius mind like Orikan's would be destroyed by the tumor and death—even though Orikan himself did not care—this was the true reason I supported biotransference."
Trazyn emerged from the darkness and bowed deeply to the Silent King:
"Your Majesty, in the tens of millions of years since you left this galaxy, I have continuously preserved, recorded, and understood the histories of tens of millions of races in the galaxy."
"And among these tens of millions of races, the one I love most is humanity. Humanity is very much like the Necrontyr."
"In the history of the galaxy, which is measured in centuries, millennia, tens of thousands, or even tens of millions of years, humans, with their mere decades of lifespan, are as fragile and short-lived as the Necrontyr."
"Yet, they twice became the dominant species in this galaxy. Their culture wasn't steeped in the fear of death; instead, it was vibrant and passionate. They faced death more calmly than us, imbuing death with meaning beyond pain."
"Your Majesty, I therefore give you a new answer: All the tragedies of the Necrons do not come from death itself, but from the Necrons' fear of death."
"But the Necrons of that time never understood that the fear of death is more terrifying than death itself."
"The fear of death drove us to madly crave immortality, pushed us to wage cruel wars against the Old Ones, led us to be deceived by the C'tan, and transformed us into hollow metallic bodies."
"We gained immortality, but at the cost of endless emptiness and meaninglessness. This is a more thorough death than death itself."
Trazyn stared at Szarekh and said, "So, Your Majesty, I implore you to adopt my counsel this time as well."
"Ally with humanity and rectify the mistakes you and I made in the past."
The air fell silent for a moment. Szarekh stared intently at Trazyn, the flames in his eyes flickering and wavering, as if he was urgently pondering something.
Then, the Silent King slowly shifted his gaze away from Trazyn, appearing unwilling to listen to Trazyn's words.
This attitude was unbearable for Trazyn.
"Silent King!!!" Trazyn let out a nearly furious growl, "Open your mouth and answer me!"
"Trazyn! Administrator of our race's history, a shameful thief, how dare you be so disrespectful to the Silent King?"
"As an Overlord, have you forgotten our race's tradition that the Silent King never speaks?"
Hapsatras the Radiant roared at Trazyn:
"Has your wisdom been utterly tormented by the years?"
"The technology of mere humans is primitive and despicable; how could it reverse biotransference and grant us souls?"
"You have clearly been deceived by humanity's shameless and vile sorcery!"
Before Trazyn could retort, Hapsatras the Radiant looked at Guilliman:
"The wise Szarekh will not make the same mistakes as in the past, nor will he be deceived by lies."
"Even if what you say is true, our Lord Szarekh does not need your inferior technology."
"The great Necron Empire has already found a way to reverse biotransference again."
As these words fell, the surrounding air became even more silent.
Anrakyr, hidden in the darkness, inwardly thought, 'This is not good.'
The green light on Trazyn's body also flickered several times, appearing very flustered.
"You've been tricked again?" Trazyn blurted out, looking at the Silent King.
Faced with this inexplicably appearing method of reversing biotransference, Trazyn and Anrakyr's first reaction was that the Silent King had been deceived again!
"What nonsense! What nonsense!" Trazyn's words clearly agitated the Three Saints Council.
Hapsatras the Radiant struck the ground several times with his staff, saying in a less than polite voice:
"The new method of reversing biotransference is the crystallization of the Necron Empire's wisdom, entirely developed by the most intelligent minds among the Necrons, with no deception involved."
"Trazyn, how dare you, a mere Overlord, question the Three Saints Council? Can the Necrons not find a way to reverse biotransference themselves?"
"In the vast Necron Empire, are you, Trazyn, the only loyal, good, and wise minister?!"
Trazyn, facing Hapsatras the Radiant's questioning, showed a clear anger on his metallic face.
Although Hapsatras was an Overlord and Trazyn was an Phaeron, there were differences among Phaerons.
Before the Silent King's return, Hapsatras was just a poor Phaeron of a declining dynasty; an Phaeron of his rank couldn't even match a tenth of Trazyn's wealth.
But after being suddenly promoted to the Three Saints Council by the Silent King, Hapsatras became arrogant, speaking as if he were the Silent King himself.
Guilliman looked at the Silent King, a subtle hint of derision flashing across his face.
He slowly spoke, in a tone that seemed to mock, "Is this the decision of the Necron race, or the personal decision of Silent King Szarekh?"
Guilliman's slightly mocking words made a look of displeasure flash across Hapsatras the Radiant's face. He stared at Guilliman and said:
"The Three Saints Council is the highest governing body of the Necrons. The Silent King's decision is the decision of the Necron Empire. The Silent King's will is the will of the Necron Dynasty."
"Really?" Guilliman mimicked Fulgrim's tone, saying lightly, "I don't believe it. I heard it wasn't like that."
"The Silent King, within the Necrons, doesn't seem to be as revered as the Emperor and Saint Doraemon are among humans."
"..You vile beast!"
Hapsatras the Radiant said in a sharp voice:
"You savage primitive, your father is a deformed mutant, your so-called Saint Doraemon is just a Blue Cat playing with dark magic, and you are a mutant's mutant!"
"How dare you, such a lowly beast, Damn at the true Eternal King? You truly are a creature ignorant of death——"
"Silence, you servant without a soul or self-will!"
Guilliman took a step forward and roared:
"What are you? A mere servant, a puppet, a sycophant, a treacherous schemer."
"When was I speaking to you, that you dare to interrupt me again and again?"
"I, Roboute Guilliman, Primarch, son of the Emperor, Lord of the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar, have achieved a hundred times more glory in my mere few centuries of life than you have in thousands or tens of thousands of years. Who gave you the courage to think you could interrupt me?"
"I speak to the Silent King on behalf of the human race. You are not worthy to interject in this conversation. Get out!"
"You!!" Hapsatras the Radiant let out a sharp wail. The imposing aura in Guilliman's words actually made him feel fear.
At one moment, Guilliman seemed not human, but an irresistible force of absolute order, pressing down on Hapsatras the Radiant with overwhelming power.
Hapsatras retreated repeatedly in fear.
Bang!!!
Hapsatras slipped and actually fell from the blackstone platform, disappearing into the holographic projection.
Guilliman merely sneered in disdain. He looked up at Silent King Szarekh, his gaze showing no hint of retreat, and even subtly overpowering the Silent King in terms of presence.
"The Silent King's silence is a tradition of our race—" Another Phaeron, Mesophit the Blade, standing on the other side of the Silent King, tried to stop Guilliman.
"Direct dialogue between rulers is an even greater tradition of our race."
Guilliman looked at Mesophit the Blade with lightning-like eyes:
"You have repeatedly prevented me from speaking directly with the Silent King. What exactly are your intentions?"
"Are you treacherous ministers among the Necrons? Are you Evildoer of Chaos? Or are you lackeys of the Deceiver?"
Mesophit the Blade's mouth opened slightly, wanting to say something, but in the end, no words came out.
The accusation of being a lackey of the Deceiver was far too serious among the Necrons.
Mesophit was, after all, just a lower-ranking Phaeron of a decaying dynasty, utterly unwilling to bear such an accusation.
More importantly, there seemed to be an undeniable power in Guilliman's words.
This power even twisted the laws of reality, making Guilliman's words impossible to defy.
"Szarekh! My understanding of you is no less than yours of us!"
"I know what you have done, I know what you have committed. You say the Emperor is a reanimated corpse playing with sorcery? You say the Emperor is not worthy to be the Emperor?"
"I tell you now, the Emperor was not born the Emperor! His status comes from his dedication and sacrifice."
"He once led us out of the abyss of the Old Night, saved our race from the brink of destruction. For our race, he sacrificed himself on the Vengeful Spirit, sitting on the Golden Throne for millennia upon millennia."
"We are loyal to the Emperor because the Emperor is loyal to us. We trust the Emperor because the Emperor deeply loves us. We worship the Emperor because the Emperor sacrificed himself to save our people, so he is the Emperor!"
"And you? Szarekh, who claims to represent the Necron race, Szarekh, who claims to always be the Silent King, what have you done for your people?"
"The Emperor protected his people, while you destroyed your people, and then abandoned your people."
Guilliman's voice was filled with an indescribable power, and he appeared in no way inferior to the Silent King, who had a long life of sixty million years:
"If a ruler is virtuous, the people are loyal; if a ruler loses virtue, the people may be disloyal. We are loyal to the Emperor because of the Emperor's sacrifice. Why are the Necrons loyal to you? Because of your crimes?"
"But Szarekh, if you truly insist that you can represent the Necron race, now humanity offers you an opportunity for atonement, an opportunity to truly do something for your own race."
"Saint Doraemon can give the Necrons souls, as long as you agree."
The Silent King stared intently at Guilliman. He clenched his staff, as if having made up his mind, and then slowly spoke.
"I will destroy you." That voice carried an undeniable malice, disgust, and hatred.
Then, before Guilliman could speak again, the Silent King's holographic projection flickered a few times and suddenly vanished.
Guilliman shook his head slightly, remaining silent.
Alexander, standing in the darkness, turned his head and glanced at Anrakyr beside him.
"Was all of that recorded?"
"Send me a copy. I have a way to ensure that every Necron Phaeron and Phaeron can see what just happened."
An imperceptible ripple spread within the Necron Dynasties, a ripple that seemed to come from the end of time, transmitted directly to every Overlord and Regent through quantum entanglement communication.
Netherworld Star System.
Decades ago, this star system was scorched by a blazing stellar fire during the great war between the Tyranids, Necrons, and Blood Angels. This power came from an ancient Necron artifact known as Starflame, also called the magnificent prism.
Under the power of that artifact, the oceans on Lexio's surface were completely evaporated, the hive cities on Ashford's surface were reduced to ashes, all living things vanished in the fire, and the entire planet returned to silence.
Only on the cold planet Perdita did figures still linger.
This planet was a Tomb World of the Necron Maynarkh Dynasty.
The Maynarkh Dynasty was renowned among the Necrons for their mastery of stellar energy. They knew how to establish long-distance pipelines to transmit stellar energy between different star systems, much like the C'tan of old, to extract the infinite energy of stars. They were also adept at igniting the fury of stars to vaporize their enemies.
But the Regent of the Maynarkh Dynasty was too unlucky. The first thing he saw upon awakening was not his loyal Overlords or Technomancers, but an Aeldari Harlequin assassin.
That Aeldari Harlequin assassin stole the head of the Maynarkh Dynasty's Regent, and the dynasty, having lost its supreme ruler, quickly began its decline.
Some Overlords succumbed to the ravages of time and self-destructed, while others had their Tomb Worlds occupied by younger races and were subsequently destroyed. Some Overlords accidentally activated their ancient stellar weapons and were incinerated into dust.
Even those Overlords who were lucky enough to survive soon fell into infighting.
As the dynasty most skilled at manipulating stars, the Maynarkh Dynasty's internal strife was naturally brutal. The final result was that most of the Tomb Worlds and Overlords within the entire dynasty were destroyed in the roar of stellar power.
Except for Perdita. The Overlord on Perdita was named Zalathusa, and he was the last Overlord of the entire dynasty to awaken.
When he opened his eyes, all the other Overlords of his dynasty were already gone.
He inexplicably became the supreme ruler of the entire dynasty.
As for resistance from outside the dynasty...
Are you kidding? The Maynarkh Dynasty had a fearsome reputation among the Necrons. Although now, for various reasons, only the planet Perdita remains, their stellar manipulation technology has not diminished in the slightest.
And Overlord Zalathusa, after awakening, not only became extremely stubborn, but also insisted that others refer to him as 'He Who Must Not Be Named.' He likely fried his brain when he awoke.
Although he hasn't shown other symptoms of madness, who knows if it will worsen?
A madman with a pile of stellar weapons, even the Necrons were unwilling to provoke him.
Otherwise, if their own star exploded one day, they'd have nowhere to cry.
Zalathusa was content to be left alone; as long as no one came to Perdita to harm his property, he had no interest in making enemies.
His only enemies were those two thieves, Anrakyr and Trazyn.
He hosted them, yet they stole Starflame—those two scoundrels! He'd kill them sooner or later!
But today, Zalathusa's peace was broken.
A quantum entanglement communication suddenly flared, forcibly connecting without Zalathusa's permission.
What appeared in this communication was not a Necron, but a human.
A handsome white-haired man with a gentle smile and violet eyes, using a highly seductive voice, narrated the faith of Saint Doraemon.
The man claimed that Saint Doraemon was the source of power for all machines, all spirits, and all living beings; he was the first power at the very beginning of all things.
He chose humans, Aeldari, and Necrons to be his chosen people. Humans and Aeldari had already received his blessings, and now he would also bless the Necrons, granting them souls.
Zalathusa expressed contempt and disdain for this.
A so-called god of unknown origin, using a mouth full of lies to deceive the Necrons, promising them salvation.
Damn the Deceiver, it's endless! Are they trying the same trick a second time??
Do they really think every Necron is the Silent King??
But soon, another image connected.
It was a scene of the human's so-called Regent negotiating with the Silent King.
The moment he saw the Silent King, Zalathusa's heart sank.
Damn the Deceiver, he's truly despicable! Knowing that other Necrons wouldn't easily fall for it, he specifically targeted the Silent King!
According to Zalathusa's understanding of the Silent King, if this was truly the Deceiver's conspiracy, then the Silent King would most likely fall for it.
The Silent King is a very peculiar ruler.
To speak objectively, if one disregards his susceptibility to deception and the fact that he always falls for major deceptions, the Silent King's abilities are actually not bad.
He is powerful, possesses vast mysterious knowledge, and his political maneuvering skills are exceptional, as evidenced by his ability to destroy all the C'tan at a critical moment.
But the Silent King's problem is that he cannot unleash his abilities until he has lost everything, until his soul is scattered, until he has lost his entire race.
Because only then, when the Silent King has nothing left to lose and nothing left to be deceived by, does his most fatal flaw of being easily deceived naturally disappear.
He is a monarch who excels at extreme comebacks; the more extreme the situation, the stronger his abilities. As for why the situation becomes so extreme, haha...
Zalathusa shook his head helplessly.
He Who Must Not Be Named watched Hapsatras the Radiant, one of the Three Saints Council, make a fool of himself.
He actually made such a fool of himself under the mere roar of a human, foolishly falling from the black stone platform. What a clown!
And Mesophet the Blade, defeated by a single glance, truly useless.
The Three Saints Council, with the Silent King holding supreme authority and being the source of power for the other two Saints, never spoke or publicly declared his will, but had the other two Saints speak on his behalf.
This was a system of checks and balances developed over the long history of the Necrons. The three Saints each came from different dynasties, balancing the already loose dynastic powers and binding the Necrons, or rather, the Necrons, under a single governing body.
In the long years of the past, this system had never changed, and the Three Saints Council had always been respected by all dynasties, until the Silent King returned and arbitrarily selected two subordinate Regents from his own dilapidated dynasty.
Those two subordinate Regents were merely puppets of the Silent King, echo chambers for the Silent King, and lackeys of the Silent King.
They were self-proclaimed clever yet foolish, ostentatious yet timid, and feigned arrogance yet were base.
Did the Silent King not understand?
When the Three Saints Council could no longer balance and represent the various needs of the Necrons, it would no longer be respected.
Or rather, what was respected was never the Three Saints Council itself, but the three Saints themselves and the powers they each represented.
This is also why the Silent King always came from the strongest dynasty, and the other two Saints also came from first-rate dynasties.
Because only in this way, under the principle of unanimity of the three Saints, could the Three Saints Council suppress all forces disrespectful to it.
The Silent King certainly understood. He was merely confident, confident that he could suppress all dissenting voices within the Necron ranks with his own power alone.
He believed he had returned to save the Necron Empire, and so the Necrons should submit to him.
He was such a person, inexplicably confident in his own abilities, and unwavering in his self-proclaimed judgments, which was also why he was easily deceived.
In Zalathusa's opinion, someone would soon fire the first shot and oppose the Silent King.
Hmm?
Suddenly, Zalathusa noticed that the situation in the image was not developing as he had expected.
The Silent King in the image actually rejected Saint Doraemon, declaring in extremely vicious language that he would utterly destroy humanity, destroy them.
Had the Silent King changed? Was he more vigilant than before? Not so easily deceived anymore?
Zalathusa was silent for a moment, then silently looked at the first image, at the white-haired, violet-eyed human preaching the faith of Saint Doraemon.
Tsk.
Don't tell me, really, don't tell me...
With the Silent King opposing him like this, Saint Doraemon sounded much more credible.
Perhaps he really isn't the Deceiver.
But this one's cunning and treacherous nature is no less than the Deceiver's.
Releasing the recording of the Silent King's negotiation with him was a brilliant move.
Not only because the Necrons' inherent distrust of the Silent King would make them somewhat trust Saint Doraemon,
But more importantly, the content of this negotiation cleverly induced the Necrons to question the Silent King's rule.
And then there's the negotiation itself.
Without this negotiation, the conflict between Saint Doraemon and the Silent King would be a conflict with the entire Necron race.
But with this negotiation, the conflict between Saint Doraemon and the Silent King became an internal conflict within the Necron race.
The former would make most dynasties instinctively follow the Silent King's will and unite against an external threat, while the latter would cause many dynasties that already distrusted the Silent King to waver or even directly side with Saint Doraemon.
But this is not enough.
The Necrons are a decentralized race; they need an internal Necron representative to unite the Necron factions willing to believe in Saint Doraemon.
Someone capable of representing the Necrons. The Silent King, of course, goes without saying, but he explicitly opposes Saint Doraemon.
So, who else has this ability? Stormlord Imotekh or Anrakyr the Traveller?
Stormlord Imotekh's military might is formidable, but that Regent is probably not interested in reversing biotransference.
Most likely, it's Anrakyr.
Although Anrakyr was marginalized and ostracized by the Silent King, his political prestige remained.
And the Silent King's actions to ostracize Anrakyr were seen as unjust by many dynasties, instead stirring up sympathy for Anrakyr among these dynasties.
"Great He Who Must Not Be Named! The former Overlord and your enemy, Anrakyr, has sent a letter!"
"He also had someone return Starflame."
Just then, Zalathusa's courtier respectfully presented a letter.
"That scoundrel Anrakyr's?"
"It really is him."
Zalathusa sneered, took the letter, and lowered his eyes, which glowed with an orange-red light.
"A Declaration Against the Silent King?"
Zalathusa's interest was piqued.
He opened the letter.
The first half of the letter was a private message from Anrakyr to Zalathusa.
"My dearest Zalathusa."
"Bastard, you are not allowed to call me by my name!"
"You know, I, Anrakyr the Traveller, have always been one who respects Necron property."
"Say that to my face while looking at the Starflame you stole, you little thief!"
"Someone like me, if you search your heart, would I really steal your Starflame?"
"But you did steal it! You bastard!"
"After being accused by you like this, I began to investigate who exactly stole your Starflame."
"Look at Trazyn next to you, you fool!"
"Finally, after decades of extensive investigation, I discovered the truth—it was the Silent King who stole your Starflame."
"Damn it! If you're going to sling mud, at least be serious about it!"
"It turns out, the shameless Silent King wanted to sow discord between you and me."
"Why would he do that?! Is he insane?"
"But, I risked my life to snatch the Starflame back from the Silent King's hands."
"Were you possessed by an outsider, or did the Void Dragon resurrect inside you?"
"Thanks to the blessings of Saint Doraemon."
"Thank Saint Doraemon for me!"
Zalathusa was rendered speechless by Anrakyr's perfunctory explanation,
But he still keenly caught a few key pieces of information from it.
First, Anrakyr truly believed in the so-called Saint Doraemon.
Second, Anrakyr was clearly going to oppose the Silent King.
Third, and most shocking to Zalathusa,
Anrakyr actually made Trazyn spit out what he had eaten??
No, it shouldn't be Anrakyr; it was probably that Saint Doraemon.
This Saint Doraemon truly had abilities. He could make Trazyn return stolen items.
Could it be that he could truly bestow souls upon Necron?
Zalathusa was silent for a moment. He thought that many Dynasties had probably received the items returned by Trazyn and noticed the same thing as Zalathusa.
The credibility of Saint Doraemon had risen significantly.
What a calculating god. Is he truly not the Deceiver?
Zalathusa was silent for a moment, then looked at the public declaration below.
"Anrakyr the Traveller, formerly Overlord of the Perian Tomb World, now by decree General-in-Chief leading the Necron righteous army of the world, General of doraemon's Crusade Against the Silent King, hereby issues this proclamation to all Necron Overlords, civil and military officials, and the common people across the galaxy:"
"The usurper Szarekh, whose wisdom is not enlightened, whose crimes are truly unforgivable, whose talent is insufficient to bear great responsibilities, whose achievements are inadequate to wield divine artifacts. Once the monarch of the Necron, he summoned the C'tan to serve him, listened to slander, brought disaster upon the Three Saints, appointed cruel and wicked individuals, trusted treacherous gods, was gluttonous and unrestrained, killed loyal subjects instead of eliminating evil, harmed culture and oppressed the people, and used deceit to mislead his master. Furthermore, he possesses the heart of a viper and the nature of a jackal, associating with evil and depravity, slaughtering his own kin, forging puppets from our bodies, and feeding our souls to Chaos Gods. This is a common outrage across the galaxy, intolerable even to the Empyrean."
"Despite all this, he grew even more arrogant and tyrannical, daring to say: 'If not for me, could you Necron have survived the C'tan?'"
"Alas! This is truly a madman without father or mother, disloyal, unrighteous, fond of chaos and delighting in misfortune! How can he be the ruler of our race? I have often heard: Since the primordial energy first created life, the rulers of all races have invariably revered the Empyrean, nurtured their people with love, toiled diligently day and night, acted with utmost caution, humbled themselves in self-reproach, and were anxious in self-condemnation. Cegorach of the Aeldari is like this, the Emperor of Mankind is like this, even the Ethereals of the Tau are like this."
"Yet, the impostor Szarekh, whose crimes anger both gods and men, dares to claim credit for the heavens! The Overlords, engineers, and common people of our race united as one to execute the C'tan, how could this be the achievement of Szarekh alone? Now, Saint Doraemon, in his benevolence, cannot bear the suffering of our soulless race and wishes to save countless Necron from distress. However, Szarekh, being incompetent and muddle-headed, actually rejected the Saint and harmed our race from within. He truly has the ambition of a wolf; gentlemen, you must not fail to observe this!"
"In ancient times, our Necron ancestors established the Phaerons, set up the Three Saints, and protected the galaxy, as stable as a rock, striving for governance day and night, as clear and pure as a flowing stream. Unfortunately, a false ruler ascended the throne, deceit took hold, causing chaos and shaking the foundations of the state. Our ancestors once said: 'If the court lacks righteous ministers and there are traitors within, all Phaerons must train their armies to punish them, to cleanse the evil of the Three Saints.'"
"Now, disaster is upon us. We truly wish to save our nation, and we are left with no other choice. Therefore, we call upon all Overlords in the world to swear an oath, to carry out the will of heaven and punish the traitor. We vow to be irreconcilable with the muddle-headed monarch, and we welcome Saint Doraemon to save the myriad people of our race. Doraemon, Necron ancestors, bear witness to my heart!"
Bang!!!
On Mandragora, the homeworld of the Sotek Dynasty, the most powerful military force among the Necron,
Stormlord Imotekh, the Overlord, heavily threw the "Anrakyr's Denunciation of the Silent King" sent by Anrakyr onto the table.
"Damn it, how did Anrakyr come up with this? He stole all my thunder!"
"Can't you write a 'Stormlord's Denunciation of the Silent King' for me too?!"
Imotekh said to the Overlords under him.
The Overlords looked at each other, not knowing what to say.
Imotekh sighed.
There was nothing he could do. These Overlords under him were ultimately Necron. They were fine for fighting, but asking them to do some cultural creation was like taking their heads off and giving them to the Orks as chamber pots.
One of the biggest losses for their race after losing their souls and flesh-and-blood bodies was that most Necron lost the ability for cultural creation. Necron had, in fact, become a race without its own culture; they were merely mimicking the Necron of the past.
Originally, Imotekh didn't think there was any problem with this, as long as it didn't affect the war.
The problem was that it was now affecting the war.
Imotekh knew that many Necron Dynasties still retained a nostalgia for the ancient Necron war rituals.
And this denunciation was perfectly suited to the Necron's taste for war, flawless in terms of morality, ritual, and dignity.
It even gave Imotekh an urge to immediately join Anrakyr's faction and give Szarekh a good kick in the backside.
But unfortunately, Imotekh was not interested in the so-called Saint Doraemon.
It wasn't because he doubted Saint Doraemon's ability to bestow souls upon Necron, but because Imotekh wasn't interested in souls.
He didn't want to reverse the biotransference. He thought the current soulless metal bodies were excellent, incredibly efficient in warfare.
After recovering their souls, the Necron's resurrection protocols based on memory would be completely useless; they would lose their fearless steel soldiers on the battlefield.
Moreover, having souls might attract the covetous gaze of the Empyrean. In Imotekh's view, this clearly reduced the efficiency of war, and he was unwilling to accept it.
What's the use of a soul? Can having a soul be as enjoyable as fighting?
Imotekh only cared about two things:
War and order.
War was the weapon to achieve order, and order was a prerequisite for efficient war.
Necron civilization was full of order, united as one, obeying a single will.
And this order would not be the Silent King's order, this unity would not be around the Silent King, and this single will would not be the Silent King.
The Silent King messed everything up, then ran away like a coward. Now he's back and wants to be the master of Necron order?
Imotekh disagreed.
He wanted this order to be his order, this unity to be centered around him, and that single will could only be his.
As for Saint Doraemon and Anrakyr,
If they could uphold the Necron's order, if their order was stronger than Imotekh's, then they could defeat Imotekh.
Conversely, if Imotekh defeated them, it would mean that Imotekh's order was still stronger.
"Only war."
Imotekh slowly spoke:
"Only war can temper order, shape order, and determine order."
"The Silent King's order, Saint Doraemon's order, my order."
"Let us be forged in war and see whose order is more powerful."
Imotekh was silent for a long moment, then looked at the Necron Technomancer beside him.
"Record this and send it to the other Necron Dynasties as our declaration of war," he said.
There was nothing he could do; there was simply no one in their Dynasty skilled in rhetoric.
The only one who still knew how to create was the old General Zandrekh, but that crazy old man had run off to the Silent King's side.
Imotekh could only improvise a few sentences himself to hold the fort.
"My Lord, what should our next step be?" an Overlord under Imotekh asked.
Imotekh turned his head to look at the star chart shimmering in the air, at the sector humans called Nephilim Sector.
"To the battlefield." Imotekh let out a laugh, waving the staff in his hand.
On the edge of the Nephilim Sector, Roboute Guilliman, the Regent of the Imperium of Man, stood on the prow of the Macragge's Honour, gazing at the silent deep space in the distance.
That was the location known as the Pariah Nexus, where the Warp was completely isolated. But this isolation didn't completely eliminate the Warp, entirely expelling its power.
According to Alexander, the Blackstone's suppression of the Warp was like a dam holding back water; the tides of the Warp were actually accumulating more and more violently behind the Blackstone.
The stronger the Blackstone's suppression, the greater the potential energy accumulated in the Warp. Once the Blackstone's polarity reversed, once a powerful Psyker energy broke through this suppression, that potential energy would be released, transforming into an boundless flood roaring forth.
Perhaps it was for this reason that Guilliman, standing on the edge of the Pariah Nexus, could vaguely sense the presence of the Warp.
He saw the surging waves in the Warp gradually taking shape, transforming into three orderly, roaring storms.
One storm was cold, silent, and shimmered with a faint green light, but behind it, threads hung down, manipulating this order.
This order was hidden within the Pariah Nexus, like a decaying corpse in a tomb, greedily craving life.
Another storm was intense, powerful, and efficient, like a domineering and absolute order, burning with war as its fuel.
This order was still far away but was surging forth, like a monarch resurrected from a tomb, no longer craving to be alive, but content with its current state, attempting to turn everyone into cold deceased beings.
The last storm was his own, interwoven with blue and gold, as if everything of Ultramar's Five Hundred Worlds rested on his shoulders.
But Guilliman looked up and could also see that above his storm of order, there was another, more absolute, more direct, and more complex order.
That order was not a storm; that order was a single line, pointing like a sword into the Pariah Nexus.