Yarrick, clad in the black regalia of an Imperial Commissar, strode swiftly through the long corridor, his sharp eyes constantly scanning and taking in everything around him.
The vaulted ceiling of the corridor was covered in reliefs characteristic of the Necrons—an alien artistic style that did not belong to humanity, capable of profoundly shaking the soul of anyone who beheld it.
Faint, cold green light shone down, casting eerie, ghost-like shadows. Both sides of the corridor were lined with sarcophagi containing various Necron Warriors, their surfaces adorned with ornate carvings that pulsed with light.
Yarrick first activated his disruption field, then swung his massive Power Klaw, systematically destroying everything in his path—be it a sarcophagus or a passing Canoptek Scarab.
As he laid waste to his surroundings, Yarrick's mind began to wander.
As an Imperial Commissar, he was merely an elite graduate of the Schola Progenium. He lacked the vast experience of an Inquisitor, a Custodian, or a Tech-Priest, nor did he possess the fanatical faith of a Battle Sister that allowed one to simply ignore such overwhelming external stimuli.
Following the Emperor's divine guidance had led him straight into contact with the Necrons—an ancient xenos civilization—and it was, truth be told, a bit beyond his original curriculum.
"Throne above..." Yarrick sighed after smashing a rising Necron Warrior into fragments.
An ancient alien civilization that had existed in the galaxy long before the rise of human civilization, fallen into an eternal slumber, with their dynasties now hidden beneath the crust of countless planets.
This single, obvious fact was enough to easily shake everything he had been taught in his Imperial education regarding humanity's rightful dominion over the galaxy.
Yarrick whispered a prayer in his heart, halting his diverging thoughts. At that moment, he could hear a rhythmic vibration echoing from the end of the hallway—the sound of many overlapping footsteps.
It seemed the Necrons had discovered his position.
So that's it? They see me as a breach to be plugged? With that thought, Yarrick calmly drew the weapon hanging from his waist with his left hand.
Raise, aim, pull the trigger.
Pop.
What shot out of the barrel was not a bullet, nor a laser or any other energy beam. It was merely... a bubble.
The harmless-looking bubble drifted out of the barrel at a leisurely pace toward the target. It appeared right before the eyes of an Immortal leading the Necron squad as it rounded the corner.
???
Confusion flared within the Immortal's logic core. This wasn't because the enemy's attack was a bubble; the Immortal's database had already automatically analyzed and identified the device.
It was an Ork Bubblechukka!
The problem was, the enemy wasn't supposed to be an Ork. Why was a device that required a Waaagh! energy field to function being used by a human?
However, there was no time for deeper calculation. In mid-air, the harmless-looking bubble detonated violently!
BOOM!
A blinding flash of light instantly consumed everything within a ten-meter radius. A savage shockwave swept outward in a ring, the resulting blast turning every Necron soldier within range into scrap metal before tossing them aside.
Without checking his handiwork, Yarrick spun around, guided by pure instinct.
Sure enough, a Deathmark was stepping out of a dimensional portal within his vision. Seeing it had been spotted, the assassin tried to raise its Synaptic Disintegrator, but Yarrick was faster.
A beam from his bionic eye—the "Zzap" gun—streaked out. Another explosion, no less powerful than the first, rang out as the Deathmark was utterly terminated.
Having neutralized the immediate threats, Yarrick resumed his march. Along the way, he used his mechanical Klaw to crush several Canoptek Wraiths attempting to engage him in melee, and methodically delivered finishing blows to various Necron units crippled by the massive explosions.
A formidable Necron force had been dismantled single-handedly by Yarrick.
Deep within the Tomb World, the Necron Overlord and the Cryptek watching this scene fell into a collective silence.
"What were you saying just now?" Sutton turned slowly to look at Trazyn. He suspected someone was trolling him, but he had no proof.
Trazyn: "..."
This made no sense. I don't recall being in stasis recently... so why can I no longer understand this world? What the hell is going on?
Orks were the creations of the Old Ones. Their technological knowledge was encoded within their DNA, easily unearthed through "inspiration" (often called "finking"). However, because most of their tech required the Orks' psychic field—the Waaagh! energy field—even a race with materialistic technology as advanced as the Necrons could not decipher it, let alone use it.
How was this human using Greenskin weaponry so effortlessly?
Trazyn's interest was thoroughly piqued.
"...We need to commit more forces to this human Commissar. We must capture him alive and find out exactly what is happening with him," Trazyn proposed immediately.
If possible, Trazyn wanted nothing more than to personally add this Imperial Commissar to his museum. This was a unique specimen in the galaxy—a truly priceless addition to his collection!
"Do you think that's possible?" Sutton irritably rejected the proposal. "I suspect you have ample motive to provide me with false intelligence to increase my losses, eventually forcing me to beg you for help so you can station your guards here."
"How could you say that? You must trust me. You know what kind of person I am," Trazyn protested immediately.
Heh, I'd be a fool to believe you. Sutton treated the protest as background noise and filtered it out. Through the Tomb World's control protocols, he began silently regrouping his forces.
He needed to plan carefully. The forces of the Tomb World were finite; he could not continue this "adding oil" tactic of sending units in one by one to be slaughtered.
"Fine, since you don't trust my intelligence... surely you'll let me offer some support?" Trazyn suggested suddenly.
Sutton squinted at the fellow Overlord. "What kind of support? Let's get one thing straight: if you're planning to use my Eternity Gate to deploy your army, forget it. Not a chance."
"Of course not," Trazyn smiled. He reached into his robes, and a Tesseract Labyrinth instantly appeared in his hand. "I have my own ways."