The green beams of Necron Gauss weapons slammed violently against the surface of the reinforced steel bunkers.
The once incredibly hard alloy was turning into dust, being stripped away layer by layer, scattering with the shockwaves caused by the bombardment.
The tank vehicles, naturally, fared no better.
No matter how thick the defense, before the Necron Gauss weaponry, it was only a matter of time before it was pierced through.
If it were the Imperium of Man facing the Necrons, the best response would be to increase fire suppression while throwing away lives in a meat grinder.
For example, in the Battle of Amara against the Mephrit Dynasty in the Orpheus Sector of the Storm Zone, the fearless Krieg soldiers did exactly that.
As long as the speed of destroying Necron forces exceeded their self-repair rate, victory could be achieved.
But in contrast, the price of such a victory was extremely bloody and cruel.
The Universal Union would not choose this method—or rather, they wouldn't use human lives to do it.
"Have the orbital fleet airdrop all Tyrants and Pursuers immediately!"
The Commander stared intently at the strategic map and spoke in a low voice.
Long before arriving at Nelvokov, the Alliance Fleet was almost stuffed to the brim with various B.O.W.s; the proportion was staggering, specifically to handle situations like this.
The Universal Union wouldn't trade human lives for attrition, but the lives of non-human B.O.W.s? Those didn't count as lives.
"Also, have the vehicles pull back for now. Do not enter the attack range of the Necron anti-armor units!"
Before his words had fully landed, the Necron Monoliths erupted with terrifying Gauss arcs, leaping in a chain reaction between the tanks that hadn't moved in time, roasting them all into smoking piles of black charcoal.
Even the crews inside were reduced to ash.
The horror of Necron weaponry was being demonstrated to its fullest extent.
"Have the Goliath Armed Robots and Ion Titans focus fire on the Monoliths. Prioritize clearing the enemy's heavy fire units."
Although his side was still suffering casualties, the Commander continued to direct the battle in an orderly fashion.
The nearly four-meter-tall Goliath Armed Robots anchored themselves in place, the Hellfire missile launchers on their shoulders firing violently, pounding the towering Monoliths.
These Hellfire missiles were originally designed to attack large aerial transport units or even space warships entering the atmosphere; their power was naturally formidable.
Boom! Boom!! Boom!!!
Hellfire missiles struck the surfaces of the Monoliths one after another, exploding into brilliant bursts of fire.
The even taller Ion Titans, under the control of their Pilots, gathered terrifying laser beams in their chest areas, slicing through the sky and blasting towards the towering Nether Engineer Doomsday Walkers and Canoptek Reanimators.
The Necron weapons were indeed terrifyingly powerful, but the Universal Union's firepower was not weak either.
Technological equipment from various worlds, under the coordinated command of the Commander, was engaged in a fierce battle with the Necron forces that had slumbered for sixty million years.
The numerous tunnels in the rock ceiling above vibrated again as hundreds more drop pods descended from the surface.
Tyrants and Pursuers stepped out of the pods and began supporting various parts of the battlefield.
In terms of manpower, with the continuous support from the fleet in orbit, the Universal Union was not at a disadvantage.
These low-level Necron units had not crushed these weak creatures—who were nothing more than insects in their eyes—as the Lord had expected.
This fact greatly stimulated the emotion-simulating thought matrix in the Lord's mind, and rage began to rise within his metal skull.
"Insects!"
The Lord, seated upon his catacomb command barge, shouted in anger and immediately controlled the barge to charge through a Tomb Portal, descending personally onto the battlefield.
As the dark green orb in his hand erupted with a blinding green light once more, the self-repair speed of the Necron Warriors was further enhanced, and the pressure on the Universal Union's lines rose sharply.
"Focus fire!"
The Commander in the command post immediately gave the order over the comms channel. Although he didn't know the opponent's specific identity, judging from the performance just now, they absolutely could not allow the enemy to continue buffing the Necron Warriors.
In an instant, high-explosive tank shells, Hellfire missiles from the Goliath Armed Robots, and laser beams from the Ion Titans—
All sorts of attacks surged toward the catacomb command barge the Lord was riding.
However, in the next second, a Canoptek Sentinel Construct burrowed out of the ground, and the Exile Cannon at its head instantly created a miniature black hole.
All attacks, whether shells, missiles, or laser beams, deviated from their original trajectories and were sucked into the black hole.
"Despicable invaders!"
Even though he hadn't been hit, the Lord was still exceptionally furious.
From the perspective of an ancient Necron from sixty million years ago, being the first to attack an enemy general in war by any means other than a duel was an extremely dishonorable act.
It was a provocation.
Many Necron nobles were strange like that; even though they had been transformed into metal skeletons, they still stubbornly clung to ancient traditions.
Stabbing his Hyperphase Thresh into the catacomb command barge, the Lord reached out with his left hand, which actually vanished into a hidden personal phase-space.
An ornate silver scepter was pulled out from it.
Appearing along with this Staff of Light was a group of Lychguards wielding Hyperphase Swords and Dispersion Shields.
These Lychguards were the personal bodyguards of Necron nobility, capable of blocking almost any attack with the shields in their hands.
The Hyperphase Swords in their hands could slice through any matter in the real universe, being even sharper than power weapons equipped with disruption fields.
"Thud!"
The Staff of Light was slammed into the ground by the Lord, producing a dull sound.
Several massive Tomb Portals appeared abruptly.
This scepter was essentially a high-level key linked to the Tomb World Ruins, naturally allowing for the opening of Tomb Portals anywhere.
A large number of heavy infantry units, Immortalss, stepped out from the Tomb Portals.
Ghost Arks, hovering in the air and loaded with even more Necron Warriors, sailed out from within.
Doom Scythes and Night Scythes, acting as flying units, rushed out of the portals like black shadows and took to the high skies.
Not only that, but the Destroyer Cults, who were shunned among the Necrons, also entered the battlefield through the portals.
Skorpekh Destroyers, Ophydian Destroyers, Lokhust Destroyers—
The act of "provocation" the Universal Union had just committed had completely enraged this Necron Lord.
He had teleported the vast majority of the forces from the entire Tomb World Ruins into the battlefield.
The Lord even temporarily reduced troop deployments elsewhere, no longer putting much effort into dealing with those Space Sharks who were wreaking havoc throughout the Tomb World Ruins.
He was determined to use all his strength to completely crush the defensive line before him, which he saw as composed of weak insects.
The war taking place in the giant cavern one thousand kilometers beneath the surface of Nelvokov is escalating.
Both the Necrons and the Alliance are continuously committing more troops.
The battlefield has already become a scene of purgatory.
Shells and energy weapons emitting various lights are flying everywhere.
On the ground, Necron Warriors, Immortals, and various Destroyers are slowly and steadily marching toward death.
They are eventually blasted into pieces by artillery fire from the Alliance positions, only to slowly reassemble on the spot or be directly teleported deep into the Tomb World Ruins for more comprehensive restoration.
In the air, the battle situation is equally fierce.
The Necrons' Night Scythe Fighters dart through the air like shadows, sweeping the ground with the Twin-linked Tesla Destructors mounted beneath their hulls.
Units that failed to take cover, even heavily armored T103 Tyrants and Pursuers, were burned to ash.
The Alliance's air units naturally refused to be outdone. Through the giant tunnels scorched by Destruction Lasers, Viking Fighters dove directly into the battlefield airspace.
And they began a brutal close-range dogfight with the Night Scythes in this airspace, which was not particularly large for fighters.
The battle has entered a white-hot phase, with both sides' forces reaching their peak.
Even the structure of the underground cavern itself is being damaged by the aftershocks of the attacks from both sides.
But now, neither side has the mind to worry about such trivial matters.
Unless the cavern directly collapses, burying everyone under billions of tons of rock, this underground war will not end.
"Huu—"
Techmarine Hicadi let out a long breath after using the Power Great-Axe in his hand to cleave a Canoptek Spider, watching it get teleported back for repairs.
Looking around, the Space Sharks were in a massive room, covering a huge area of one square kilometer.
Several hours had passed since the Space Sharks penetrated deep into the Tomb World Ruins. During this time, nearly endless Canoptek Constructs had been pursuing them, trying to halt the Space Sharks' advance.
But under the leadership of Chapter Master Tyberos, and after several uses of ancient special weapons excavated from Outer Darkness to break the siege, the Space Sharks temporarily shook off their Pursuers.
Crouching down, Hicadi carefully examined the special patterns distributed across the black floor.
Soon, Hicadi figured something out and looked up at the Chapter Master beside him.
"This should be the area that powers the Tomb World Ruins itself. The energy conduits are hidden beneath these Black Stone Floors."
"Can you find the critical nodes?"
Tyberos asked in a deep voice.
One of the Space Sharks' mission objectives was to destroy the integrity of the Tomb World Ruins as much as possible, causing trouble for the Necrons.
But in such a vast area, even if the Mako Sharks Soldiers used all the melta bombs they carried, they could only destroy a small section, and it would quickly be repaired by the Canoptek Constructs.
Only by finding the critical energy nodes could they cause effective damage.
"I need time to try."
Hicadi stated truthfully.
"This ruin has many differences compared to those we saw previously in the Outer Darkness."
Tyberos pondered. They had only just escaped the Necron Construct Pursuers and could not stay here for long.
"Continue—"
Just as Tyberos was about to order them to abandon the destruction plan and continue forward to find the location of the Reanimation Protocol.
A small unit responsible for covering the rear suddenly sent a report.
"The Canoptek Constructs are retreating. Only small groups are still pursuing us, and their numbers are few."
This rearguard unit had originally been prepared to sacrifice themselves for the void father, but they were surprised to find that the previously nearly endless Canoptek Constructs were retreating in the opposite direction for some unknown reason.
Listening to the report, Tyberos could roughly guess what was happening outside the Tomb World Ruins, so he decisively divided the force, which originally consisted of fewer than two hundred men, into two parts.
One team remained in place to assist Techmarine Hicadi in destroying this area that supplied power to the Tomb World Ruins.
The other team, led by Tyberos, continued to advance deeper.
This was a dangerous move. The Space Sharks were already few in number and deep within the enemy's main base. A single mistake could lead to both units being surrounded and annihilated.
But Tyberos knew clearly that now was the best time. While the vast majority of the Necrons' forces were tied down by the Alliance, the Space Sharks would have more opportunities to act.
Leaving all the explosives they carried with Hicadi, Tyberos advanced with about one hundred Space Sharks.
Among them were twenty Terminator Elites.
Watching the Chapter Master depart, Hicadi said nothing, immediately entering a state of concentration to study the Black Stone Floor beneath his feet.
The Necrons, and their predecessors, the Necron, highly valued symbology.
Every Dynasty has its own exclusive special symbol. This symbol is reflected in all aspects; every Dynasty's Necron Soldier will have this symbol painted on their chest.
These symbols, formed by energy conduits, are also spread throughout the Tomb World Ruins.
And this would be the key clue for Hicadi to find the energy nodes.
Looking at the symbol before him, Hicadi quickly searched his memory for the symbology of Necron Dynasties that he had learned in the past from some Necron Tomb World Ruins in the Outer Darkness.
Finally, Hicadi successfully identified the Necron Dynasty to which the symbol belonged.
"Ogdobekh Dynasty"
Without time to recall the historical data of this Dynasty, Hicadi immediately followed the exposed symbolic conduits and began searching for connecting pipe nodes.
Aided by the detection capabilities of the Powerful Auspex in his hand, high-energy nodes were quickly detected one by one.
The remaining Space Sharks placed all the melta bombs at these critical locations.
Even the Necrons' Black Stone Creations would be melted and destroyed in the face of sufficient melta yield.
"Detonation will cause unknown consequences. We should leave here first."
After setting up all the melta bombs, the Space Sharks retreated to the large door at the end of the room.
Finally, Hicadi personally pressed the Detonation Button.
Instantly, hundreds of melta bombs simultaneously burst into dazzling light, and violent energy destroyed the critical energy nodes.
The power conduit network, originally buried underground and meticulously designed by the Tomb Technicianss, stalled due to the destruction of the critical nodes.
"Mission accomplished!"
Hicadi said, looking at the energy readings on the Auspex in his hand.
"We need to find the Chapter Master and the others."
The Tomb World Ruins covered an area of 100,000 square kilometers, and if the deep underground portions were included, it would be even larger.
Such a super-structure naturally possessed a terrifying energy supply system.
Some powerful dynasties, in their Core Worlds and Crown Worlds, would draw inexhaustible energy from C'tan Shards to power themselves.
However, although the dynasty Nelvokov belonged to was powerful, its remote geographical location meant it naturally lacked precious C'tan Shards.
The Tomb Technicians who built these Tomb World Ruins sixty million years ago used a slightly more "simple" method, directly connecting the Tomb World Ruins to Nelvokov's Planetary Core out of thin air.
For the past sixty million years, the Tomb World Ruins had been continuously drawing energy from the Planetary Core to maintain its operations.
The Space Sharks, however, happened to destroy a key node of this extraction equipment, causing a flaw in its originally flawless operation.
It could be said that a blind cat had stumbled upon a dead mouse.
Of course, perhaps a certain "Golden Big Guy" also played a role.
"The speed at which those Canoptek Constructs and Necron units reappear after teleportation recovery seems to have slowed down."
The Commander keenly noticed the abnormality on the battlefield.
One didn't need to think to know that this was surely the work of the Space Sharks within the Tomb World Ruins.
With the Space Sharks' interference, the firepower output of the Alliance's defensive positions had already broken the balance.
Gradually, the recovery speed of the Necrons' metal skeletons and Canoptek Constructs could no longer keep up with the rate of damage.
The Necrons' method of deploying troops was essentially similar to a "barracks" in an RTS game.
Their maximum population count was constant; it was only the Necron units' self-repair and teleportation recovery traits that made them seem infinite.
Once the balance was broken, the Necrons had almost no means to continue replenishing their forces.
The Lord on the catacomb command barge instantly realized what had happened.
One of his secondary mind matrices was temporarily detached and connected to the surveillance equipment spread throughout the Tomb World Ruins.
Soon, he discovered the energy supply area that had been destroyed by the Space Sharks' demolition.
"Damned insects!"
The Lord's insults were limited to just those few phrases; perhaps back in the Necron era, they weren't very good at this sort of thing.
Things had become somewhat beyond this Lord's expectations.
Due to sixty million years of hibernation, combined with the remote location and outdated information, he had no idea of the Space Sharks' combat capabilities, nor did he expect that the Space Sharks he had temporarily let go would cause such great destruction.
"Technician!"
As soon as he spoke, the Technician had already floated to the Lord's side by some unknown means.
"No matter what means you use, immediately eliminate those insects wreaking havoc in the tomb!"
In truth, if it were a Necron Overlord, they could command the troops while simultaneously partitioning their mind to control other metal bodies and deal with the Space Sharks personally.
But unfortunately, a Lord could not do that.
Therefore, he could only turn to the power of the Technician.
"Executing your will."
The Technician lowered his head.
"This is your last chance to make up for your mistake; I will be watching your progress."
As the Lord spoke, he transferred a Secondary Mind Matrix into the body of a Lychguard, making it his eyes and ears.
Eyes flickered within the Technician's lowered head as he slowly entered a state of Phase-stealth until he vanished.
Deep within the Tomb World Ruins, the hundred or so Space Sharks led by Tyberos continued to advance.
They were not running around aimlessly, of course; they were slowly approaching the Core Area of the Tomb World Ruins based on their experience exploring other Necron ruins.
Various important facilities of the entire ruins were concentrated there.
—
As long as they could destroy it, victory in this war would be a certainty.
Rounding a corner, Tyberos suddenly reached out and made a specific hand gesture.
All the Mako Shark warriors came to a silent halt, making not even the slightest sound.
Even the sound of their breathing was reduced to a minimum.
This was one of the Space Sharks' talents.
They excelled at frenzied assault and melee combat, but they also had their own unique expertise in stealth.
"Clack, clack-clack—"
Strange and irregular metal footsteps came from the end of the dark corridor.
Without needing an order, the Space Sharks had already raised their Bolters and Plasma rifles, aiming into the darkness ahead.
In the next second, a terrifying screech reached the Space Sharks' ears.
"Skree—!"
The sound of metal footsteps suddenly accelerated; in the darkness, some terrifying things were rushing toward the Space Sharks.
"Boom!"
Tyberos was the first to raise the Punisher Grenade Launchers on his forearms and fire violently.
The rest of the Space Sharks also switched to a defensive stance, attacking with their ranged weapons.
The sounds of metal limbs being torn apart and melted rang out continuously, yet the Space Sharks still did not know who the enemies in the darkness ahead were.
Even their superhuman eyes could not see through that strange darkness.
Only when the sound of limbs being torn apart completely vanished did Tyberos take the lead, stepping into the unknown darkness ahead.
"Stop! Don't go any further!"
An urgent call rang out over the communication channel.
Halting his steps, Tyberos turned to look; Hicadi and several dozen other Space Sharks, who had been assigned the demolition task earlier, were rushing from behind.
Tyberos keenly sensed something; Hicadi and the others seemed to be being pursued by something.
"It's Flesh Tearer, they're right behind us!"
Before the words had fully fallen, a hunched metal skeleton suddenly leaped out from the darkness just inches away from Tyberos.
Its extremely long and sharp claws lunged straight for Tyberos's head.
"Thump!"
Tyberos nonchalantly swatted the Flayed One against the side wall and followed up with a step, completely crushing its head.
This Flayed One's sudden attack was merely the opening act.
In the darkness, the sound of metal rapidly skittering across the floor could be heard rustling again.
A large number of Flesh Tearer rushed toward the Space Sharks from both ends of the corridor.
They wildly brandished their sharp metal claws, wanting to tear the Space Sharks into pieces and drape the bloody skins over themselves to gain a modicum of comfort.
Tyberos had seen Flesh Tearer many times; most Necron Tomb World Ruins contained these things.
However, unlike those Flesh Tearer draped in various severed limbs and skins he had seen before, the Flesh Tearer here appeared quite clean because they had never left Nelvokov to hunt biological creatures.
Only their frenzied appearance proved that these metal skeletons had been infected by the Flayer Virus.
Sixty million years ago, after defeating the Old Ones, the Necrons—under the leadership of the Silent King Szarekh—turned upon the C'tan while those star-gods were weakened from devouring the souls of their former masters.
The war was so terrible it was second only to the War in Heaven against the Old Ones; even the later revolt of the Men of Iron paled beside it.
In the end the Necrons succeeded: they slew a C'tan—Llandu'gor, the God of Death.
A C'tan is an embodiment of the physical laws of reality; to murder one is to shake the very foundations of the universe.
With its dying breath Llandu'gor hurled a terrible curse upon the entire Necron race.
It was called the Flayer Virus.
Any Necron infected by the virus finds its once-logical mind growing ever more deranged, bloodthirsty and warlike.
Worse, the contagion spreads by unknown means; even mighty Necron Overlords are not immune.
Nobles with superior bodies and mind-shields can cling to their original forms, though their actions become ever more savage and unhinged.
Warriors of lesser rank, their frames crude and minds dim, undergo hideous metamorphosis: talons capable of flaying skin and severing limbs erupt from their limbs.
Most dynasties loathe and fear the Flayed Ones.
The infected are quarantined and destroyed.
But how terrible is a death-curse of a slain star-god?
No matter what the Necrons do, the Flayer Virus keeps spreading.
Despairing dynasties eventually accept the monsters in their ranks, unleashing them as terrifying assault troops.
Mad Flayed Ones lurk in a pocket-realm called the Graveyard; scenting blood, they burst into reality and butcher all before them.
They drape themselves in the tattered skin of their victims, mimicking voices to lure fresh prey.
The terror they sow rivals the fear campaigns of the renegade Night Lords.
Tyberos tore another leaping Flayed One apart with his chainfist and growled over the vox: "Advance!"
Holding this corridor with enemies fore and aft was untenable; no one knew how many Flayed Ones waited. Breakthrough was the only option.
Of the two hundred Space Sharks who had begun the assault, only one hundred and sixty still stood.
Yet even one hundred and sixty Sharks charge with unstoppable momentum.
The Flayed Ones are savage, but the Space Sharks are worse.
The roar of chain-axes and Bolters never ceased; steel teeth shrieked against living-metal skeletons every second.
At the fore Tyberos was a maddened leviathan, obliterating everything in his path.
Across ten thousand years of war he had personally torn apart seven or eight hundred thousand Flayed Ones—perhaps a million.
Such vermin could not slow him.
Behind him the Sharks became a grey cyclone, leaving only twitching scraps of metal that still tried to reknit themselves.
"We can't keep blundering straight ahead," Techmarine Hicadi snarled, severing three Flayed skulls with his axe of the Machine-God. "The xenos have committed their Flayed Ones; their main force is pinned outside the Tomb World Ruins. We're near the core."
"Follow my route. These structures match the sigils of the Ogdo-Bekh dynasty; the core lies where the lines intersect."
In moments like this a keen mind versed in xeno-culture is priceless.
The Sharks pushed along Hicadi's twisting but purposeful path.
Soon they would reach their objective.
Someone, however, meant to stop them.
In a laboratory of unmistakably Necron design at the heart of the Tomb World Ruins, a Technician watched their progress.
"Humans—such base creatures. These are the masters of the Milky Way now?"
Upon a slab beside him lay the gutted corpse of a Mako Shark.
Nearby rested the bodies of a T103 Tyrant and several Pursuers.
By stealth and skill the Technician had harvested these specimens from the battlefield.
Though ordered to annihilate the Sharks, he had chosen instead to study the foe.
"Their sole merit—"
A humming hyperphase blade touched his throat.
A Lychguard bearing the sub-mind of the Overlord intoned, "Technician, my patience is exhausted. You ignore my commands."
The sub-mind's wrath was a blade's breadth from decapitation.
"To defeat the enemy, my lord, one must know him—inside and out, in every detail—"
The Technician spoke without haste.
Overlords always loathed the cadence of Tomb Technicians; it had been so among the Necrontyr.
They carried an arrogance surpassing even the nobility.
"Then you had best have learned something."
The sub-mind's voice was ice.
"Remember what Nelvokov guards. Should this bastion fall, the Triarch—and the supreme Phaeron—will demand reckoning."
"I remember, my lord. For sixty million years I have remembered."
Rustling sounded as shapes lower than Flayed Ones emerged from the dark—Tomb World Servitors loyal only to the Technician.
Each Technician's Servitors differ, yet all are small and lethal.
Black sarcophagi began to rise within the laboratory—
********
"Sergeant, how far to the objective?"
Third Company Captain Shaar's chainsword axe tore through a Flesh Tearer, but the next second the weapon's drive belt snapped from prolonged use.
In a drawn-out, brutal fight like this, even a master-crafted weapon from a Forge World could fail.
Shaar hurled the ruined chainsword axe, smashing another Flesh Tearer's skull, then smoothly drew the combat blade at his waist and pressed on.
Hicadi was surprised; Shaar could still stay calm and ask questions in the middle of this.
"Stop looking at me like that, sergeant. These metal skeleton xenos don't give a real fight."
The Necrons, nothing but metal frames, simply couldn't trigger the bloodthirst coded into Shaar's World Eater genes.
"At this pace we'll reach the core zone in twenty minutes,"
Hicadi checked the route on his Auspex.
"Next the xenos will send more troops to stop us—watch—"
Before he finished, a mind-searing threat stabbed into Hicadi's brain.
A Space Marine's superhuman senses screamed a warning.
The thick servo-arm jutting from his power pack, still linked to his nervous system, snapped out sideways on reflex.
A split-second later a sickly green beam lanced through the air straight at him.
It was so fast there was almost no time to dodge.
Fortunately the heavy servo-arm caught the shot.
The price: the arm that had accompanied Hicadi since his days on Mars was crumbling to ash, the decay racing toward his power pack.
"Take cover! Deathmark sniper!"
Hicadi dived behind a heap of Flesh Tearer corpses, shouting over the vox while snapping off the servo-arm to halt the spread.
Deathmarks—the Necron sniper elite.
These gaunt metal skeletons, each clutching a synaptic disintegrator, were veterans of the sixty-million-year-old War in Heaven.
Their rifles could punch through armor, burn out nerves, boil a living brain inside its skull.
The mechanical eyes set in their metal skulls pierced darkness and smoke, granting true sight.
Combined with centuries of experience, that let them drop targets two to four kilometres away.
The rest of the Space Sharks saw Hicadi get hit and ducked behind corridor corners or piles of scrap metal.
Charging blindly against a Deathmark was suicide.
"Bang! Bang-bang!!"
From cover the Sharks opened up with Bolters and Plasma rifles, spraying the possible sniper nests their helmet displays had marked.
But the fire only served to keep the Deathmarks' heads down.
"Whine—crack!"
More synaptic beams knifed in from every direction, angling so cunningly that even behind cover some Sharks were hit and fell.
Besides their terrifying weapons, true-sight optics, and War-in-Heaven experience,
the Deathmarks had one more trick that terrified enemy soldiers: they moved through phase-space.
For most snipers, firing meant the problem of relocating safely to shoot again.
Deathmarks simply opened a phase-rift and stepped into phase-space—untouchable, invisible.
They could re-emerge anywhere along the battle line, or wait until the suppressive fire ceased and strike again from the same spot.
All of this made them the ultimate snipers.
Deathmarks.
"Tallying contacts—conservative estimate, at least ten!"
Risking another shot, Hicadi extended the sensor array on his pack and swept for data.
The Sharks were in a bad spot: Flesh Tearers kept charging from every side while two-digit Deathmarks sniped from the dark.
"Rally behind the Terminators."
Tyberos's deep voice crackled over the vox.
Hicadi wondered why their Chapter Master was ordering what looked like suicide—until he saw a synaptic beam strike a Terminator veteran's fore-mounted vortex shield.
The blue vortex field slowly shifted toward yellow, then dangerous red, but the fact it stopped the shot at all stunned Hicadi.
The recent upgrade the Universal Union had made to their gear was paying off.
"Lock targets, advance in cohesion."
Sharks in standard power armor sheltered behind the Terminators and added their fire to keep the Flesh Tearers back.
Protected by the vortex shields, they pushed forward.
When a Terminator's shield bled to red, another moved up to take point.
Yet among the hundred-plus Space Sharks there was one exception:
their Chapter Master, Tyberos.
He still led the charge, weathering Deathmark shots and the Flesh Tearer tide.
His vortex shield had long since overheated.
But an energy barrier still shimmered before him:
the Iron Halo mounted on his pack.
The priceless field generator could blunt almost any ranged attack.
Calgar of the Ultramarines had once used an Iron Halo to bull straight through a Tzeentch Greater Daemon's spells and into an ambush.
Tyberos tore through every obstacle, a ravening shark in human form.
The Sharks kept moving, relentless.
"Ahead—through that tomb gate!"
Hicadi watched his Auspex; as the column rounded a corner a vast Tomb Portal loomed before them.
In front of the Tomb Portal, many Necron Canoptek Constructs and Tomb Servitors stood guard.
Not only that, but the Technician who had been hiding in the shadows was now hovering above the portal, looking down upon everything below.
The Space Sharks, of course, did not care who the opponent was; without any pause or words, the hundred or so Space Sharks continued their final charge.
"Insignificant humans, like insects, the path ahead is not a place where you may tread."
The Technician's voice invaded the Space Sharks' communication channel through some unknown means, reaching the ears of every Mako Shark warrior.
"Bang! Bang!!"
A volley of Bolter rounds was fired at the Technician in the air.
The Space Sharks were not in the habit of wasting words on xenos enemies; Bolter rounds were their best response.
Without dodging, a Canoptek Spider released a swarm of Canoptek Scarabs, blocking all the incoming Bolter rounds.
Although the Technician did not care for noble honor, he was still slightly annoyed by the Space Sharks' wordless attack.
With a wave of the Staff of Light in his hand, the Canoptek Constructs and Tomb Servitors surged toward the Space Sharks like a tide.
"Although living experimental subjects are better, there is no shortage of materials outside."
The Technician muttered to himself.
He was very interested in the human species, but for now, he had to deal with these uninvited guests who had been causing destruction in the Tomb World Ruins.
After all, the Lord was constantly watching his every move.
With Canoptek Constructs and Tomb Servitors in front, an army of Flesh Tearers behind, and Deathmarks still lurking nearby, ready to fire at any moment.
The current situation for the Space Sharks was far from optimistic, especially since they had used up most of their explosives to destroy the energy supply of the Tomb World Ruins.
Forcing their way through the Tomb Portal would inevitably result in heavy losses.
However, such a situation naturally could not stop the Space Sharks.
They had experienced battles far more dangerous and desperate than this.
"In the name of the void father!"
Amidst the roar of Chainaxes and Bolters, the Space Sharks charged forward with unwavering determination.
"Hmm, precious data—"
The Technician, perched on the Tomb Portal, watched the battle scene before him, collecting various combat data.
For far too long—a full sixty million years—he had not stepped out of the incredibly remote world of Nelvokov.
Even worse, as a Tomb Technician, he had to wake up every few tens of thousands of years to inspect and maintain the massive Tomb World Ruins.
The Technician could no longer remember how many times he had awakened during his sixty-million-year slumber.
Each time he woke up, he was repeating the same tasks as always, without even a hint of novelty.
All to wait for the arrival of the "Day of Racial Restoration" promised by the Silent King, Szarekh.
Consequently, any novelty could immediately capture the Technician's attention.
These new species called "humans," who had inexplicably come to Nelvokov and launched an attack on the Tomb World Ruins, might be annoying insects to the Lord that had to be cleared away.
But for the Technician, it was an opportunity—an opportunity to understand the current situation of the galaxy.
The Technician considered himself unlike those pedantic nobles; as a Tomb Technician, innovation was always what he desired.
While recording the data, the Technician pondered how to maximize the use of these experimental materials.
As if everything were within his grasp, according to countless calculations, the Space Sharks before him could not possibly break through this encirclement and enter the core area of the tomb.
Going back a few hours, outside the Tomb World Ruins, the war between the Alliance and the Necron Lord continued.
Although the recovery speed of Necron units after teleportation had slowed down, causing the balance to be broken...
Nevertheless, completely destroying all Necron combat units would still take a significant amount of time.
"How is the Wormhole coming along?"
In the temporary command post, the Commander questioned the head of the engineering department.
Besides digging more tunnels, the engineers had another important task: establishing a Wormhole on the surface of Nelvokov to allow the Alliance's home territory to send more forces.
The person in charge on the surface immediately responded with action.
Under the rapid construction of the building robots, a Wormhole had already appeared on the surface.
"We are currently tuning the Wormhole parameters and will soon be able to connect it with other Wormholes."
"Very good."
The Commander nodded with satisfaction.
The video link was not interrupted; while continuing to command the battlefield in the underground cavern, the Commander kept a close eye on the Wormhole's status.
Soon, the Wormhole was completely finished.
The signal requesting support entered the Wormhole, reaching the core of the Alliance on the other side, Avarax.
The situation on Nelvokov was quickly uploaded through the ranks to the high-level leadership of the Alliance.
"Let those Tech-Priests from Ata-Median go."
Looking at the report in his hand, Marcus made a decision.
"It is also time for our new allies to contribute."
The Alliance itself certainly did not lack manpower, but Marcus wanted to take this opportunity to see the sincerity of Ata-Median.
This mission from Marcus was quickly transmitted through the Wormhole to the Forge Director on the Forge World of Ata-Median.
"A Necron Tomb World Ruin?"
The Forge Director pondered the relatively detailed mission description.
He hadn't expected that his newly formed allies would actually provoke the Necrons.
However, the Forge Director didn't care much; they were just Necrons. Ata-Median had excavated at least seventeen or eighteen Tomb World Ruins, if not dozens.
After some careful consideration, the Forge Director made his decision.
"Dispatch the First Macro-Cohort and one-third of the titan machine."
Hearing this, the Forge Sub-Director nearby was somewhat surprised.
"Is it necessary? Half of our Titan Legion is already on an expedition to the Silent Forge, which leaves us with only one-sixth of our titan machine."
"Sincerity is what matters most."
The Forge Director was a clever man and could see the deeper meaning behind this mission.
"Just do as I say."
"Yes."
Orders were passed down through the ranks, and the massive Skitarii forces on Ata-Median were rapidly mobilizing.
Soon, the First Macro-Cohort within the Skitarii was ready.
Considering the limitations of the Wormhole's size, the Titans accompanying the First Macro-Cohort did not include Warlord-class Titans.
Instead, there were numerous Warhound-class Titans and Reaver-class Titans.
One by one, the Titans passed through the Wormhole established by the Alliance on Ata-Median and arrived at Avarax.
Using Avarax as a transit station, they then reached the surface of distant Nelvokov.
"Praise the machine god!
"Our reinforcements have arrived."
The Commander, having received the message, stepped out of the temporary command post and looked up at the rock dome above.
Accompanied by the roar of anti-gravity engines, and the prayers chanted by the Tech-Priests for the titan machine, which could be heard even from a great distance.
The Ata-Median's Titan Legion from the Forge World had already descended upon the battlefield.
"In the name of the Holy Binary, loudly praise the Omnissiah, glory to the machine god!
Ring the great bell once!
Push the lever, activate the pistons and pumps.
Ring the great bell twice!
Press the button, start the engine, ignite the turbine, inject life.
Ring the great bell thrice!
Sing in unison, praise the machine god!"
"Dong!!!"
As the last syllable fell, the titan machines landed on the ground.
The smallest Warhound-class Titans, only about fifteen meters tall, quickly dispersed, taking up defensive positions.
The larger Reaver-class Titans, nearly thirty meters tall with their Apocalypse Missile Launchers, stepped forward with heavy strides under the cover of the Warhounds, heading beyond the Universal Union's defensive line.
"titan machines are born for offense, not to cower behind defensive lines."
The one leading this Titan force and the accompanying First Macro-Cohort was an Adeptus Mechanicus Priest.
At this moment, the priest came before the Commander and spoke in a slightly arrogant tone.
Within the Forge World's hierarchy, his status was second only to the Fabricator-General and the Deputy Fabricator-General.
The Universal Union Commander knew that these Tech-Priests were essentially allies of the Universal Union; although they had accepted the mission of support, they still had a high degree of autonomy.
Therefore, he, as Commander, was not qualified to dictate their deployment.
Given this, and with the Universal Union forces now holding the advantage on the battlefield.
"Then, the time for a counterattack has come."
The Commander immediately issued new orders to all units.
The Tyrants, Pursuers, and various tanks and armored vehicles that had been defending the line began to leave it, coordinating with the titan machines to launch a charge.
In addition, the four War Battalions of the First Macro-Cohort also advanced in coordination on the flanks.
The weapons used by the half-machine, half-flesh Skitarii and Servitors even far surpassed the Universal Union forces in firepower.
But whether it was the Skitarii or other tanks and armored vehicles, no matter how powerful their firepower, they were not the protagonists of this war.
"Divine machines, move out!"
The Warhounds had already deployed two sets of Void Shields and were charging at the forefront.
The dual-composite Void Shields could absorb a large amount of firepower; even the bombardment from Necrons' Nether Engineer Doomsday Walkers could hardly penetrate them in one hit.
The Necron forces' gauss flayer beams, or Tesla arcs, and even doomsday blast cannons, only caused ripples on the surface of the Void Shields.
That devastating firepower plunged directly into the Warp, perhaps hitting some unlucky demon or Chaos Space Marines.
The Void Shield's deflection defense method, in terms of defensive performance alone, was still far superior to ordinary hard-hitting energy shields.
"Buzz~"
The Warhound's arm-mounted Plasma Blastgun began to charge, with dazzling blue light converging at one point.
"Boom!!!"
An incredibly hot Plasma orb blasted out from the twin barrels.
Directly striking the Destroyer Squadrons hovering in the air and the Doomsday Arks ahead.
The Necrons' proud living metal seemed so vulnerable before the Plasma orb fired by the Warhound.
In just an instant, it melted into a bubbling metallic liquid.
If it were conventional metal, it would have likely evaporated and vaporized.
Bolter rounds, each half the size of a person, also roared out from the Vulkan Mega-Bolter on its arm, tearing through large swathes of Necron Warriors and even Immortals' metallic bodies.
Metallic skeletons, unable to retaliate in time, were teleported back into the depths of the Tomb World Ruins to execute their reanimation protocols.
"Despicable insects!"
Witnessing this scene, the Overlord, already somewhat displeased by the Technician's laziness and shirking, roared in anger.
Everyone could see that in front of the titan machines, the Necron forces, originally on the offensive, were collapsing and contracting.
Even the incredibly tall Monoliths disintegrated and broke apart under the immense firepower.
The Reaver-class Titan's turbo-lasers and melta cannons possessed even more terrifying firepower than the Warhound-class Titans.
Coupled with the missile launcher array on its back, loaded with twenty Apocalypse Missiles, a Reaver-class Titan could single-handedly tear apart an entire Necron defensive line.
Ata-Median had previously plundered many Necron Tomb World Ruins.
Not to mention a single Overlord, they had even crushed Necron forces led by an Overlord.
The countless Necrons and the Canoptek Constructs were vanishing like snowflakes.
Step by step, the Universal Union and Skitarii pushed the front line forward.
Some Tomb Portals had even been captured, with Skitarii, Tyrants, and Pursuers passing through them to counterattack deep within the Tomb World Ruins.
The Warhounds charging at the very front were already extremely close to the Tomb World Ruins themselves.
And this, in the eyes of the Necron Overlord, was absolutely unacceptable.
With a heavy smash of his Overlord's Blade, an incredibly magnificent Tomb Portal suddenly appeared in the center of the battlefield.
"Thump!"
The next second, a gigantic, spider-like foreleg stepped out from within the portal, directly crushing a Dune Crawler that couldn't dodge in time.
"Thump thump!!"
Another giant foreleg stepped out.
Slowly, an extremely massive Canoptek Construct, even larger than a Reaver-class Titan, appeared in the center of the battlefield.
"Seraph?"
The Adeptus Mechanicus Priest recognized this Canoptek Construct, a hint of surprise in his tone.
"You know this Construct?"
The Commander's intelligence on Necron unit types contained no relevant information.
The priest nodded.
"The Seraph Heavy Construct, a Necron Titan unit, the embodiment of dynastic destruction and conquest, and the ultimate defense of the Tomb World Ruins.
It seems these metallic xenos are at their wit's end."
"Crush these insects!"
The Overlord's thought matrix issued the final command to the Seraph.
The next instant, the Seraph's Singularity Generator had already activated.
A gravitational vortex abruptly appeared beside a Reaver-class Titan.
Terrifying suction pulled at all surrounding matter.
Air, rocks, soldiers, vehicles, and even the already fired cannon shells, lasers, and Plasma.
Everything was being heavily drawn into the gravitational vortex.
No matter how hard the armor, it was being crushed and torn apart by gravity.