The dying sun of the Black Veil bathed the halls of the Imhotep Dynasty with a bizarre, glittering twilight through the crystal peaks that littered the ceiling, and the tomb that perpetually experienced such darkness seemed darker still to Nemekh. He remained unstirring in his favoured spot, perched within the confines of the Throne of Ice cradling his necrodermis cranium, hiding his immortal face in shame for the few who could look upon it.
To make such an elementary mistake in underestimating his enemy in the Sabik system had cost the Dynasty dearly, his forces were broken to a state where reanimation would be grievously slowed, and that's if they were able to repair at all. Upon returning to the Crown World, Nemekh ordered all resources went on researching ways to replenish their numbers. The Black Veil was hidden and inaccessible to most of flesh and blood, and the metal bodies they called their own meant the Necrons had more time to gather their forces than others, but the time only served to worsen the Phaeron's lingering shame.
Nemekh's thoughts were interrupted when he heard the click-clacking of metal on metal floor, though he did not stir from his brooding demeanor. The remaining units of the Imhotep Dynasty's peasantry would be sleeping whilst their shattered shells were being grafted back together by millions of Canoptek Repair Scarabs and, though his optics were covered by his hand Nemekh knew there was only one who would walk these halls at this time.
"I hope this is good new, Karimekh" he responded before any word could be uttered, accurately guessing the ally that approached. He allowed his hand to come free from his face to show the hundreds of Micro-Scarabs dancing across his metallic flesh, all meticulously repairing tiny dents and imperfections from his body. His enlarged hand glowed brightly as if reacting to his thoughts.
Karimekh bowed deeply, his Staff of Light held tightly in his hand. "Infekhtys has informed me that our fallen Immortal units were successfully rebuilt with the parts available, but they will need to be monitored and repaired by our Spyders should they suffer damage again due to something about the phase shifters being incompatible with their reanimation protocols."
The Phaeron allowed himself this small victory to brighten his mood briefly. "It's a beginning" he allowed, "and what of the data console Azhryn recovered from our last battle?"
Kharimekh gave a wave of his hand and the hall was illuminated with holographic images and data files of the information he was able to recover. Nemekh stood from his perch and paced forward a few steps to behold these revelations closer.
"We were able to recover some modules of data from the console. The warriors we fought, for example are known to these Humans as 'Imperial Fists', one of the so called 'Chapters' of the genetically modified super soldiers they created. Other Chapters also occupied the sector during our time there, two in particular are known as the 'Blood Angels' and 'Dark Angels'"
Nemekh let our a static groan at the mere mention of the Chapters names, "I have had my share of deities. So primitive that these base creatures should name themselves after false mythology. Pathetic."
Without responding to his Phaeron's words Kharimekh continued, "The most worrying species we found in these databanks however, are these 'Tyranids'..."
At the mere utterance of the name, a picture of hundreds, no thousands, no BILLIONS of strange, twisted fanged creatures of varying sizes and shapes appeared to fill up the hall with an intense alien light, the image swelling not through magnification, but from sheer volume. "According to the archives, a fleet of these creatures dubbed 'Hive Fleet Jenova' were spotted only a few sectors over from the Sabik System, heading directly for it in fact." Kharimekh allowed a moment for his Phaeron to respond, though his gaze seemed so intently fixated on the strange creatures that he didn't seem to notice.
He continued, "these 'Tyranids' survive by accelerated evolution. Like any verminous creature, they are driven by instinct, though they do seem to possess spme form of hive intelligence. They only exist with a single objective." He turned his head to face Nemekh, whose gaze was still drawn to images in front of them. "To consume everything on every planet they come across, water, metal, oxygen... everything."
"Then gather all available units for war." Nemekh said bluntly, his gaze never shifting from the ghostly creatures, "We must stop them from reaching our slumbering Warriors or all hope of recovery will be lost."
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