Gargro Thog watched apprehensively as the green pillars destroyed everything in their path, the emerald rays getting closing to his location, making he wonder if he could reach his goal in time.
The ground shook slightly and a hot wind blew in his face, making him sweat as he oversaw his tribe entering a large hole in the ground, rows and rows of Orks, Grots, Squigs, and other War Beasts, a considerable and dangerous armed force, a threat to almost any enemy, except for those who could kill them from space.
The Boss jumped from the rock he used as a perch and walked past his subordinates, leading the way into the dark rocky passages, now lit by Glow Squigs and torches after shouting an order.
The soft light allowed him to make out strange details. Despite being in a massive, deep cavern, the walls, ceiling, and floor were polished and smooth, as if someone had dug and carved a path to transport something large.
Soon, clean, silvery, and golden metal replaced the rock, covered in elaborate patterns and strange words, while unlit candles and scraps of paper lay next to all sorts of machines that made his stomach churn with their overuse of technology.
Whoeva built dis place was a koward git 'oo kould not take a punch!
A strange smell permeated the air, burning his nose, a mixture of oil and perfume that reminded him of some of the plants on the planet, but without the pleasant factor, just a stench that made him gag.
His Orks did not seem to share his disdain, stretching their sticky fingers towards the loot spotted by their greedy eyes, shiny metals, humming contraptions that played music, bottles with colored liquids, and more. Some even tried to rip off a large wall ornament, a gear with a skull in the center.
It took threats to stop and return to their places in fear of punishment. With that done, Gargro Thog reviewed the information given to him, the weapon was close by.
They passed through confusing corridors, wide and narrow; filled with things they did not understand but found a waste of time and metal.
They climbed and descended irritatingly long staircases and passed through large and small doors that took too long to open, all while the tremors increased and dust rained on their heads.
With weapons ready, muscles tense, and eyes suspicious, they searched every corner, room, and crevice, disconcerted by the absence of an opposing force.
For a moment, the Boss wondered if no one protected this place. The strange Shootas stuck to the ceiling pointed at the floor, and pale, thin humans fused with metal were lying around.
This was too easy, and he did not like it.
Eventually, they reached a door larger than all the others reach and wondered if they would have to break it down, but it opened with a gush of pressurized gas and the creak of complex mechanisms as they approached, sliding on a rail and revealing what awaited them on the other side.
Their eyes widened and mouths hit the floor, faces contorted in surprise and disbelief and some Orks felt like kneeling and praying, for a colossal effigy of their gods rested in the center of a large chamber, surrounded by walkways and cranes as if they were spider webs.
Any doubts about whether the strangers had lied or not disappeared and Gargro Thog felt that finding the large machine was no coincidence, but the work of Gods, after all, how would he have discovered it if not for the intervention of something greater?
Gork and Mork must have sent him in their direction. The twin gods chose him as the preacher of their word; he would be the one to gather the tribes and head towards the stars.
His WAAAGH! Would spread war and destruction wherever he went, always finding a good fight and bringing glory and titles to his name, for this was his divine mission, he was the chosen one, and he would not fail his gods, they would watch his victories proudly, confirming that they had done right by revealing the precious artifact hidden on this planet.
Gargro Thog marched towards the Gargant, with confidence, pride and admiration in every step, however, his war band remained hesitant, surrounding the War Walker, but never advancing, fearing that they would arouse some kind of retribution if they acted without Gork and Mork's permission.
The Boss clicked his tongue, turning to his forces with open arms in defiance, ordering them to follow him. If nothing happened to him, then it meant that the gods had permitted them to use the great machine.
As he closed the distance, the Ork leader saw figures the same size as the Gargant carved into the walls, a mural. The Boss frowned and narrowed his eyes in confusion at its meaning until they widened in realization, it was the story of his ancestors.
Orks with Choppas and Shootas riding Squigs and fighting humans.
A Warboss sitting on a throne, pointing into the distance while Mekboyz knelt in front of him.
The Mekboyz in question working on building a metal mountain, revealing the Gargant in the next depiction, firing its weapons at the aforementioned enemies, destroying them.
The Ork forces retreating to ships, leaving the planet while giants with buildings on their backs fought the Gargant.
Finally, the same ships chased by others as they entered a portal, exiting through the other side and falling towards another planet.
This almost mythological tale strengthened the faith that he was destined to find the effigy of his gods, but hatred consumed his mind upon realizing that the many deactivated machines were in the process of dismantling it.
He swore that he would tear out the bones of the owners of this place if he ever found them.
How dare dey defile dis 'ivine image? Zoggin 'eretics!
Putting aside his anger, Gargro Thog ordered his war band to enter the Gargant, and any hesitation they felt disappeared, replaced by joy and anticipation at using such a powerful weapon.
A green tide climbed the ladders and cranes, entering every hatch and door they could find, like ants in an anthill.
Their footsteps echoed in the metal passages, their muffled screams reverberated off the walls, and fights broke out over what their duties within the Gargant would be.
Simultaneously, the Pigdoks worked to get the great machine operational, removing panels, reconnecting wires, shouting orders to Grots whose diminutive size allowed them to squeeze into the machinery and tinker with its innards, and more.
It was a cacophony of cracks, roars, oil spills, and metal clashes, and with each Grot electrocuted into a charred mass, crushed into a pulp between gears and torn apart by complex parts, life returned to the Gargant.
Steam flowed through the rusted pipes with ominous noises, swelling them as the pressure gauges rose. Some exploded, skinning the poor wretches in their path alive, and the hapless Grots were sent to fix the problem.
Lights illuminated the previously dark corridors, with some bulbs bursting in a shower of glass.
Doors opened automatically, allowing access to the various sectors of the War walker, where the Greenskin crew wasted no time in reloading and manning every massive weapon they could find, fighting over who would press the fire button.
One by one, the systems glowed with electricity, one by one, the engines roared to life, spewing fire and smoke, one by one, the reactors vibrated with power.
Moreover, atop it all, Gargro Thog sat on the command throne inside the Gargant's head, ordering his subordinates through speaking tubes, pipes connected to the various sections of the machine.
A particularly powerful tremor made him clutch his throne, hearing the screams of the crew leaving the tubes.
Through the Gargant's eyes, he saw large chunks of the chamber's ceiling and walls crumbling with a crash. There was no time to waste; the pillars were closing in on their location.
A final deafening scream demanded from the Pigdoks if the Gargant was ready to leave, and with several startled responses affirming that it was, the Boss ordered the leg crew to get the Walker moving.
The ancient machinery screamed with each movement, lifting its massive feet, knocking off rust and moss created by its time in slumber, each footfall leaving a cracked crater as it hit the ground.
However, it was not enough, they would not escape in time, not before the crushing or turning to dust.
So Gargro Thog commanded the head crew to fire the Gaze of Gork, if there was no quick exit, and then they would blow one.
The Gargant's left eye glowed a blinding orange, boiling the air with lethal radiation. Simultaneously, the chamber they were in gave way, sending crushing rubble and walls of dust crashing down onto the floor.
It seemed like the end, but unnoticed by the crew, a strange device lay in a forgotten ammunition depot deep within the Gargant, a cylinder of sorts mounted on a tripod with a red light glowing at its top.
Four colored runes pulsing with corrupted power surrounded the unknown contraption, forming a triangle. The first rune burned, striking the object at its center with a multicolored beam, causing the machinery to let out a high-pitched whistle and it is light to flicker rapidly.
Then, as if it had never existed, the Gargant disappeared in a flash of white, escaping the green pillar that ruptured the chamber seconds later, reducing the entire facility to a smoking crater.
-Tomb-
"AZDEP!" Zabephon exclaimed in a tone of command and urgency.
The Dimensionalist wasted no time with nods or words, raising both hands and creating a portal in the path of the approaching gigantic orange beam, triggering a warning of elevated temperature and radiation.
The swirling distortion consumed the attack as the Cryptek screamed in effort, smoking and sparking from his joints due to the size of the portal and the power of the attack launched against him.
The shot capable of melting entire armies returned to its owner seconds later, causing the Necron to release a noise similar to a sigh, which was in fact the coolant from his body, stabilizing the temperature of his systems.
It seemed that this would be the end of the Gargant, destroyed by the shot of his own weapon, an ironic end if not for the glowing yellow barrier that appeared in the path in the blink of an eye, dissipating it in an explosion of lights and colors followed by a crackling hum.
Azdep fell to his knees, analyzing the various damage reports visible only to him while mimicking the action of breathing heavily, an old but now irritating habit that had remained since his awakening.
His actions allowed the rest of the group to recover from the initial shock, and the Overlord took the initiative, aiming his Tachyon Arrow at the great machine.
"FUCK IT!"
The bracelet-like device opened sideways, revealing a thin silver tube that spat out a metallic fragment at a fraction of the speed of light.
With a subtle noise, the material crossed the distance in a blur accompanied by a white glow, more than capable of destroying the light barrier and that which it protected.
In that brief moment of travel, the second rune burned and a swirling multicolored portal consumed the arrow, returning it to its owner seconds later.
Shouting an insult that was anything but worthy, the Overlord activated his Phase Shifter, leaving reality mere moments away from being struck, avoiding the arrow but not the destruction it wrought as it continued on its path.
The intense gale nearly blew the remaining Necrons away, distorting the air and vanishing into the distance.
Nothing happened until an earthquake, not unlike the wrath of a god, rocked the tomb, and sections of the interior collapsed, taking with them the contents they had stored: awakened soldiers, vehicles under repair, destructive weaponry, advanced laboratories, and more.
In the end, a crater worthy of the armaments of the fleet that had bombarded the planet appeared at the site of the arrow's landing, gradually filling in with the resulting rubble.
The Overlord and the Necron Lord exchanged an intense look, the former cowering in embarrassment and the latter releasing a gear-grinding noise.
Wishing to preserve the remains of his tomb, Lord Zabephon commanded all available awakened units, and with the muffled sound of ancient technology, several floating platforms emerged from the dark depths, each carrying a small army of Warriors, Immortals, Doomstalkers, and Scarab Swarms.
A tangle of green lightning bombarded the Gargant, Gauss weaponry firing at full power, colliding with the Warwalker's Kustom Force Field, creating colorful reflections that would have been beautiful in a different setting.
Simultaneously, the Scarabs enveloped the barrier, striking it relentlessly with their sharp legs, forming an obsidian blanket.
The great machine focused on its new adversaries, its head rotating ninety degrees counterclockwise with the creak of worn joints, while the rest of its body did the same seconds later.
The Gaze of Gork prepared to doom its enemies once more, powering up and firing in an arc, but the targeted platforms swerved in opposite directions, some upwards, some downwards, but the things behind were not so fortunate.
A trail of destruction stretched for miles across the tomb, a tide of molten Necrodemis that swept across countless floors, bringing with it a shower of smoke and crushing rubble.
More alarms blared; filling the labyrinthine passages with a deep red, creating dancing shadows, and giving the Gargant an unsettling appearance, an optical illusion that made it seem larger than it was.
Artificial voices reported the level of damage caused, units lost, floors destroyed, and a metaphorical mountain of data delivered to the present Lord.
The Necron in question kept up the pressure, ordering the platforms to circle the Gargant, rising and falling, stopping abruptly and moving in the opposite direction, like a swarm of wasps attacking the invader of their hive.
The great machine, in turn, returned fire with a variety of smaller weapons mounted on its chest and head, operated by crews of Orks running on exterior catwalks.
Golden streaks mixed with emerald Gauss weaponry, bullets of every possible caliber, missiles of various sizes, shattering artillery, and energy beams of varying intensities, filled the air with fire and smoke, explosions that threatened to tear their moving targets apart.
An inexperienced combatant would see this as an easy victory for the Gargant, as the Necrons failed to penetrate the Force Field that, due to the constant attack, assumed an almost permanent appearance.
However, they would be wrong. Ancient warriors like Lord Zabephon knew how to deal with energy barriers; they absorbed and dispersed damage, so you did not destroy them with one massive blow but rather overwhelmed them with smaller attacks at multiple points.
The strategy proved valid as cracks slowly but surely appeared in the barrier, and with the plan in motion, the Lord approached the Overlord, demanding answers.
"Tell me, was this disastrous display intentional? I assumed you came to my aid, were you speaking falsehoods. Do you have ulterior motives, or do you plan to destroy my tomb?"
A threatening tone crept into his previously monotonous voice, an unusual display of emotion for a Lord.
"N-no, forgive me! I never imagined that Gargant would do something similar to your Cryptek. I intended to destroy it immediately and prevent further damage to the structure, so you must understand my reasons for firing the arrow, after all, it is the best weapon against this type of enemy!"
Zabephon remained silent, intensely observing the metallic face of the individual in front of him, searching for signs of deception. He would have narrowed his eyes if he had been able to do so, assuming a less aggressive posture with the lack of evidence for his assumptions.
"As much as I dislike admitting it, I understand your reasons. I have experienced times when a Tachyon Arrow became detrimental during combat, putting me in an unfavorable position."
The Necron looked up, sighing metaphorically, remembering a distant memory, his posture falling with the uncomfortable memories it brought.
"What happened?"
The Overlord raised a nonexistent eyebrow.
"I fired an arrow at a Krork general, a giant in green armor, only for an Aeldari to return it to me with his damned Immaterium manipulation. I dodged in time, but the distraction allowed the Krork to close the distance, initiating melee combat."
"But you're here, so that means you survived the encounter."
"By playing dead."
Both Necrons stared in awkward silence as their forces and the Gargant clashed in the distance.
"Was that a joke?"
"No, I used a dishonorable strategy to survive and fight another day, like a coward, one of my greatest shames. I may not have suffered severe punishment, but this stain on my name will remain forever."
Silence returned, broken when the Overlord raised his clenched fist in front of his expressionless mouth and released a strange noise, a failed attempt at a cough.
"A no would have been enough, but I think we're getting off-topic. What do you know about Gargants?"
"Only the name, which you were kind enough to mention."
"Well, I think you should know the basics before we act. Gargants are not particularly advanced compared to the Warwalkers of the other factions, they are some of the worst, an unstable pile of scrap that requires a large crew to operate, but they make up for their disadvantages with devastating offensive power and by being relatively cheap to build, allowing for the creation of a large force. However, their shields do not restore themselves after being destroyed, and if enough crewmembers perish, it will be impossible to operate the great machine. It will take time to destroy the Gargant from the outside, giving it time to damage the tomb further, so I suggest using your Dimensionalist's skills to infiltrate the Walker and disable it from the inside."
"Hm… Entering the enemy stronghold, placing ourselves in the middle of their forces… A risky strategy, but it will take time for the tomb to awaken and the heavy weaponry to become operational. Azdep, are you in a position to continue?"
The Cryptek rose, hovering gently and reviewing the conditions of his system before nodding in confirmation.
"Then take us to the enemy."
"As you wish, Lord Zabephon."
The Dimensionalist manifested his staff and touched the ground with the butt of his weapon. A dark whirlwind appeared beneath the feet of those present, swallowing them in its dark grip, and carrying them towards their goal.
The journey was dazzling, the space between dimensions shimmering and reflecting like a house of mirrors, bringing reflections of reflections of reflections, and the Crypteks present made sure to note and study everything while they could.
The Necrons found themselves in an endless tunnel that split into countless directions, paths, and passages that connected and separated, constantly opening and closing, revealing glimpses of different places, be it in their home universe or others.
Some brought visions of paradise, verdant lands where true peace was achieved, others, a hellish landscape, an existence condemned to eternal death and suffering amidst fire and blood.
One revealed a dead universe, the cessation of life in its purest form, without violence or fear, smooth and empty planets and a dark space filled with dead stars, an event so sudden that it was difficult to know its origin.
Perhaps its suddenness was a blessing.
A second, an existence inhabited by bizarre and indescribable creatures, masses of eyes, limbs, and tentacles that released high-pitched and shrill squeaks.
Some flew in reddish skies with their leathery wings, a few walked on rare strips of blue land with their multiple crackling legs, others swam in purple oceans with their armored fins, and the deeper they went, the more intimidating they became an ecosystem.
Perhaps some species could be collected for study.
A third, a universe composed of unimaginable giants whose bodies were built by the ether of space, stars, and planets. With nebulae for hair and galaxies for eyes, they floated aimlessly in fetal positions, as if waiting for a greater event.
Perhaps this was only the first step of their existence.
A fourth portal revealed a land straight out of fantasy books, different but similar in certain aspects, where humans, orcs, elves, dwarves, ratmen, undead, and other beings faced each other with primitive weaponry, ancient magic, and chaos. Even in another universe, their taint still existed.
Perhaps they could bring the pylons to this world after conquered the galaxy.
Unfortunately, this journey had to end, the third rune around the hidden device burned, reality screamed with the unholy power that corroded it and the tunnel assumed a pink hue.
"Not again." Haratek commented frustrated, and before everyone could ask what he meant by that, a blinding light consumed them.
-XXXXXX-
"AAAHHH!"
I screamed upon finding myself in the material world without the ground beneath my feet, facing the Gargant again; however, gravity took its toll and pulled me downwards.
I must have fallen for almost thirty meters, hearing the wind and the gunfire blow in my auditory receptors. I did not know if I would perish with the fall, but a well-aimed shot from the main weapons or the Gargant's stomp when I reached the ground could easily kill me.
Luckily, I spotted something that could save me, a piece of metal protruding forward from the War Walker's belly. I outstretched my arms, praying not to be hit on the way, and used one of the abilities that this body possessed.
CLANG!
There was a worrying crack, my hands hitting the metal and something coming out of place in my body due to the sudden stop. I maglocked onto whatever I had grabbed, and to my horror, I stared down the barrel of Gargant's Gut Buster, with a gigantic projectile being reloaded just ahead.
My legs flailed in the air desperately as my arms failed to respond to my commands, dislocated due to my previous actions. My self-repair kicked in just in time and I pulled myself up immediately, climbing the barrel and running towards the walkway in the distance.
The Orks would not let me approach without consequences, and with a mix of shouts, insults, and pointed fingers, they wielded the smaller weapons mounted on the railing, sending a barrage of Shoota and Big Shoota's bullets.
I teleported my staff to my hand in a flash of green, scanning and locking onto each Ork in my view, surrounding them in a red outline before aiming my weapon and firing my Gauss Flux Arc.
The six barrels attached to the staff's handle dislodged and circled it, spinning rapidly, leaving emerald trails in the air and conjuring powerful energy beams. Swinging my arm, I bombarded the greenskins with Gauss bolts, which while less accurate and powerful, made up for their disadvantages with their high rate of fire.
Orks, missing limbs and pieces of their bodies, fell to the ground, consumed by energy, reducing them to ashes. It was not enough to kill all of them, but it reduced the rain of bullets, allowing me to approach without worrying about accumulating damage.
I sent my staff away and summoned my swords, slowing down my temporal perception, and seeing the path of the bullets.
With quick steps, jumps and slides, I dodged the shots sent in my direction, watching them tear through the air, leaving ripples in their wake, and ricocheting on the ground with a shower of yellow sparks.
I laughed internally at the surprised faces of the Orks, eyes wide, mouths open, and covered in sweat. Joy soon replaced their current emotions, now smiling widely at the challenge I offered.
Letting out their signature war cry, each green monster still alive fired a weapon, whether mounted or personal, intensifying the wall of lead spewed in my direction.
Hm… I wonder if I can scare them a little.
I pondered whether it would be a good idea or not, but shrugged, imagining how hilarious it would be, and did something I would only seen in cartoons and anime: I cut the bullets with my Hyperphase Swords.
From my point of view, my arms moved like turtles, at the same speed as the projectiles, now sliced into pieces, but from the Orks' point of view, I must have looked like a blur, a whirlwind of blades.
The greenskins' jaws hit the ground; fear emerging in their eyes, and it would only worsen since I had closed the distance.
I returned time to normal and jumped with all my strength, rising several meters while swinging my left sword, splitting an Ork and his mounted weapon in two, landing crouched, immediately standing up, and counting the Orks that approached from both sides.
I prepared to tear them apart and then destroy the insides of the Gargant, however…
BOOM!
"HOLY SHIT!"
The Gut Buster fired and the colossal recoil made me think that the Gargant would fall backwards. The gigantic machine tilted, briefly showing us the upper levels of the tomb as we remained pressed against its body.
The Ork I accidentally crushed cushioned the impact. Unfortunately, he covered me in blood and guts. I put my thoughts aside, as the War Walker returned to its original position, and magnetized my feet to the walkway, avoiding flying away.
The Orks suffered the fate I had escaped, rolling off it and falling to their deaths.
On one hand, the path was clear, on the other, the projectile fired from erased several floating platforms and Scarabs from existence, reducing the Necron units to nothing, continuing on its path, and striking a hangar with countless sleeping aircraft.
There was a blinding white flash followed by a pillar of fire and smoke, creating a mushroom-shaped cloud. The shockwave arrived seconds later, visibly pushing the wind.
I shielded my face, my cape flapped violently; my feet slid across the ground, but when it was all over, the silence amidst the Gargant's gunfire and walking, confused me.
There was no longer a hangar, but rather an immeasurable smoking crater from this distance. The shockwave dispersed the platforms, knocking over some units that disappeared before returning to their original location.
The Gargant used this opportunity to swing its enormous left arm ending in an equally large buzz saw, and cut a hole in the tomb's wall, destroying tons of rare materials.
The right arm, a giant chainsaw, did something similar, positioning itself horizontally as the great machine spun, tearing apart several ancient chambers and their precious contents.
I finally realized the reason for the silence when I saw Haratek falling out of a green portal near the right arm, holding Tholikan and Koratitan in each arm. The Cryptek floated in front of me, saying something, judging by the light emanating from his mouth.
Focusing on him made me notice a message flashing in the corner of my vision.
*DAMAGE TO AUDITORY RECEPTORS!*
*SELF-REPAIR IN PROGRESS!*
"…u Lor… My… Lord… My Lord!"
"Haratek, Tholikan, and Koratitan, are you all right?!"
"Yes, my Lord!"
"My beauty is intact!"
"It could be better, but this will have to do!"
I resisted the urge to laugh, as this was not the time, and began giving orders before they insisted on joining me.
"Listen, and listen well! I need you to deal with the Gargant's arms! I will deal with the Gut Buster, my Lychguards and Royal Wardens will…"
I stopped and accessed my systems, trying to connect to the units in question. Seconds later, I managed to establish a connection, observing the world through the eyes of a Warden and a Lychguard.
The Wardens were rising from the ground, self-repairing their bodies after falling off the Gargant, judging by the cracks and holes in their fall sites.
Twisted limbs, crushed torsos and heads, and broken necks snapped back into place, and Qmet commanded his forces, approaching the Walker's feet and magnetizing himself vertically to it.
The Necrons looked like ants climbing the legs of a giant, firing their Relic Gauss Blasters in succession, disintegrating the Orks who returned fire in open hatches and walkways.
Their advance continued unabated, Qmet pulled the corpse of an Ork out of one of the entrances and entered the Gargant. The other Wardens followed and I watched their progress, sending a quick command to disable the great machine's legs.
The Lychguards reemerged in the exact opposite direction, pouring out of a portal above the Gargant, clinging to the various mechanical arms and cranes on its back, one of them equipped with a Cluster Buster, a machine gun the size of an Imperial Knight, whose fire leveled rows of floating Monoliths.
I did not need to send a command, the Necrons took the initiative and continued with impressive agility and dexterity, using the beams that made up the arm as a means of locomotion, grabbing or stepping on them like trampolines.
The image of warrior monks flashed through my mind, and the Orks positioned on platforms in their path witnessed the power they wielded, swiftly slicing through with strikes almost invisible to the organic eye, precise strikes that wasted not a single movement.
Eventually, the Lychguards reached the base of the mechanical arm and began to slice through it with their Hyperphase weapons.
One by one, vital sections of the structure gave way with alarming sparks and creaks, but the Orks did not allow the damage to their gods' structure to go unchallenged, climbing onto the Gargant's back and shoulders and engaging the Necrons.
It would have been a futile effort were it not for their numbers, forcing the enemy force to split, the shield bearers assuming defensive formation, blocking and returning explosives and fire, while the scythe bearers continued their lethal work with total discipline.
"…Disabling the legs and one of the main weapons! We must act immediately, I do not know where Lord Zabephon and his Cryptek are and we do not have time to search for them!"
The Crypteks nodded in confirmation and Haratek led them towards the buzz saw arm, dodging the rockets and artillery shells in their path.
Tholikan used his Abyssal Staff to spread madness and confusion among the Orks in the form of a greenish mist, forcing them to jump to their deaths or attack their comrades to escape the horrors they saw.
Koratitan focused on destroying the Gargant's arm, raining star fire on the ancient metal with his Eldritch Spear, calling upon the power of superheated plasma to reduce the massive weapon to a boiling pool of molten metal.
It was slow but visible, the movements and swings of the arm reduced, blowing fire, smoke, and sparks, and pieces of its construction collided with the body of the Walker, destroying part of its smaller weapons and its combat crew.
With that done, I entered the Gargant through one of the nearby doors, causing as much destruction as possible and eliminating the Orks in my path.
I lit a deposit of ammunition on fire with my gauntlet, immediately moving away without turning when the explosion and shockwave shook the corridors, but the distant muffled screams revealed that I had done the right thing.
I entered a large room with several gears and mechanisms turning, rising, and falling incessantly, a complex machinery that locked creaked and roared when I cut a support pillar with the Glaive of my staff and threw it into the connections where the pieces met.
I left the room with pieces jumping out of their places, the noises became deafening, and, with a final snap, giant gears flew in all directions, passing through walls and passages, destroying more delicate machinery and crushing Orks in their path.
I activated my Phase Shifter, avoiding a gear that flew down the hallway and passing through the pair of thick metal doors that it knocked down, smiling inwardly when I found what I was looking for.
However, my joy faded when the entire Gargant shook and gravity shortly disappeared, replaced by an opposing force that pinned my back to the ceiling.
I could barely move, but I did better than the Orks whose organic bodies suffered damage from the impact. However, that was not the biggest problem, as the ammunition containers scattered around the room took flight as well.
I scrambled away, grunting with effort, avoiding being crushed, unlike the Orks next to me, who turned into a red paste on the ceiling.
I accessed the vision of my Lychguards to find out what was going on, and to my despair, the ground gave way to the damage caused by the Gargant, which was now crossing floor after floor, bringing everything down with it.
There was no way to quantify the damage, it was absolute destruction, and a rain of rubble from what was once a house of treasures, wealth, and unimaginable technology. I dreaded trying to guess what remained amidst the dust and debris that accompanied the Walker's fall.
The Crypteks flew after the Gargant, Haratek trying to keep them inside the Kustumized Force Field because if they crossed it, they could only return to combat when it fell.
Despite this, I saw something that made me celebrate: with a plasma laser as bright as the sun, Koratitan hit the Walker's shoulder, piercing it like a hot knife through butter, severing the limb that, due to its lighter weight, left the torso of the machine behind.
Haratek narrowly dodged the molten chunk of metal, reorienting himself in midair and diving in a corkscrew motion as a crane followed the arm.
The Lychguards, kneeling and magnetized to the metal, finished their mission quickly, now that their attackers flew away screaming in terror, severing the crane with a synchronized swing of their weapons.
The Crypteks headed toward the remaining arm, and the Lychguards braced themselves for the eventual impact. Now that only leaves Qmet and me, and wherever the Necron Lord and his Cryptek had ended.
I magnetized myself to the ceiling, expecting the worst, and it was not long before the fall ended with a miniature earthquake and a noise similar to an erupting volcano.
The corpses of the Orks hit the ground with sickening wet cracks, becoming misshapen masses that painted the floor red, worsened when the containers came crashing down next.
On the bright side, the fall was the final blow needed for the Kustomized Force Field to shatter with a glass-like crack, scattering fragments of energy that gradually disappeared in flashes.
The defenses summoned earlier capitalized on the opportunity and the remaining platforms surrounded the Gargant. From that moment on, the battle became a slaughter, each shot large and small peeling away the Walker's armor, enveloping its body in streams of energy amid a shower of ash.
The Crypteks and Lychguards joined the fight, the former bombarding the Walker's weaponry with plasma and lightning while the rest focused on eliminating the crew.
However, they needed to retreat before I could proceed with my plan.
"Attention, everyone, retreat immediately! I will blow this thing up! Assist Lord Zabephon if any of you find him!"
I received several confirmations and scanned my surroundings, seeing what I could use as I oversaw the retreat.
The Crypteks flew away, the Lychguards descended on the Gargant's back, and Qmet and the Wardens fought in a circular chamber filled with gears and pistons, presumably the parts that made the Walker walk and rotate.
The Gut Buster was fed by ammunition brought from the lower levels on an elevator and traveled along a rail into the barrel of the cannon. I pulled a lever on a control panel near the shaft, summoning the elevator with the next round, and pressed a button, causing the colossal round to roll aside, landing on the rail.
The press of the next button caused something like a circular hammer to push the projectile into the barrel, and I assumed the glowing red button would fire it, but I did not press it.
I ripped the doors off the containers scattered around the room and spilled their ammunition across the floor like a child scattering his toys until the entire place was covered in bullets, grenades, rockets, gunpowder, fuel, and artillery shells of varying sizes, with a line leading toward the cannon now filled with the same explosive material.
I retreated to the entrance, where a wet line on the floor awaited me while the shaking and noises that ran through the Gargant indicated that he was about to walk. That never happened, when I glanced at what Qmet was doing, I saw him and the other Wardens targeting the mechanisms in their part of the Walker.
What was supposed to be a step became a stumble that threw me against the wall. The Walker regained its balance, spinning on its axis, but remaining in place.
"You did a good job, Qmet, but it is time to go."
The Warden nodded and ordered his squad to retreat, meanwhile, I lit the fuel on the ground, sprinting toward the exit, ignoring most of the Orks, Grots, and occasional Squigs, and killing those who got in my way.
I felt like I was in an action movie, the protagonist running away from a time bomb about to explode, which was not much different from my current situation. I would be sweating and breathing heavily if I could, my heart leaping out of my chest as I caught sight of the light of the exit.
The explosions in the distance made me intensify my run, pushing my legs to their limits.
The walls blurred, and I crossed the entrance, turning left and reaching the end of the walkway, where I jumped over the railing and magnetized myself to the Gargant, running down the wall.
The Orks' gunfire continued, oblivious to their impending doom, and the Gauss bolts attacked indiscriminately, forcing me to slow my temporal perception to calculate their trajectory and move way.
Debris rained down behind me and holes opened up in my path, but I kept moving, spotting my Wardens leaving the Gargant's legs. A quick check revealed that the Lychguards had escaped as well, currently touching the ground.
I nearly lost my balance and went into freefall as explosions rocked the structure, the Walker's already rotund body swelling, glowing orange and cracking, with green flames and smoke leaking from the openings.
I considered releasing my grip and letting myself fall, as I was close enough to the ground to escape without severe damage, but a familiar voice dashed that plan.
"My Lord, hold on to me!" Haratek flew upside down next to me while carrying his companions.
"Are you sure?! Won't it be too much weight?!"
"No, my Lord, come!"
"Don't worry, his strong arms can hold us all!" Tholikan rubbed herself against the arms of the one holding her.
"And if he falls, we can use his body as cushion!" Koratitan continued, causing the Cryptek to grumble in irritation.
I could not help but laugh, amazed at the hilarious interaction, and jumped towards him, attaching myself to his leg.
The Crypteks screamed at the sudden descent due to the addition of weight, but Haratek maintained a steady pace, descending slowly, away from the Gargant.
The Wardens and Lychguards were waiting for us below in formation. I released Haratek's leg, falling into the center of the group with a heavy thud, while the Crypteks landed beside me.
It would be comical if it were not tragic, the Gargant thrashed like a leaf in the wind or a cartoon robot, expanding dangerously as fiery cracks spread across its body. Its torso rotated counterclockwise and its head in the opposite direction, steam gushing from its form like a kettle accompanied by the characteristic hiss.
Its head glared at us, stopping with a final snap, blowing hot air from its sides. The Gaze of Gork flared and we braced ourselves for an unnecessary escape, since what we expected occurred seconds later.
BOOM!
The Gargant detonated in a flaming tide, raining metal and charred corpses, leaving a torso with its belly ripped open and the remaining arm dangling precariously. Its head took off like a rocket, trailing smoke, bouncing like a ball as it hit the ground before rolling like a wheel and coming to rest like a tossed coin.
That was not the end of the commotion, though; the glass in Gargant's right eye shattered and two figures clinging together fell toward the surface, followed by a floating being that tore enemy Orks apart with distorted discs.
Lord Zabephon landed with the Ork on top of him, throwing him over himself with a kick to the stomach, revealing a green giant in white armor, spear, and shield, marred by dark, smoking gashes.
The Necron sprang to his feet, swinging a Hyperphase battleaxe in each hand, closing the distance with a lunge.
"You will pay with your life for ruining my tomb!"
The Ork clicked his tongue and hurled his shattered shield at his attacker, blocking his vision long enough to draw a Slugga from his waist.
"Da' same goes for ya destroyn' ma Gargant!"
The shield fell into a thousand pieces with the swing of the emerald axes, and the white-clad combatant opened fire upon sighting his foe. The first bullet split as one of the axes flew in a precise throw, causing the same result to his weapon and left arm.
"AAAHHH!"
The Ork screamed in pain and fury, the weapon buried in his elbow painting the dark ground scarlet. The second axe gleaming in the corner of his vision forced him to swallow his agony and thrust his spear forward in the vain hope of impaling the Necron Lord.
Showing great agility and dexterity, Lord Zabephon slid his axe along the length of his enemy's weapon, creating a shower of light ending in a shimmering arc and a crimson glint.
The green skin's surprised expression remained on his face until his head hit the ground with a muffled thud, bouncing slightly as the heavy body landed beside it, creating a puddle that reflected his slayer, staring down at him with contempt.
"I believe that was the enemy leader and last of the invaders." Lord Zabephon approached us, who watched the duel in silent admiration as his Cryptek followed.
"Correct, judging by the size, he was close to becoming a Warboss, and the Gargant would be the perfect weapon and symbol to unify the tribes and start his WAAAGH! How convenient that he found one and teleported it into the tomb as soon as we arrived." I looked at the walker's remains.
"The work of those you are persecuting for defying our dynasty."
"Exactly, they are delaying us, using the tomb as bait, knowing how valuable it is to us, while they prepare something bigger, probably waiting for reinforcements, fortifying and entrenching themselves on some nearby planet. They know that we will stop everything to help our brothers and sisters, and this is the perfect time to kill us, or cripple the tombs, like what happened here."
"Unfortunately, your words are true; I will not be able to join you in the hunt against these despicable beings. I must eliminate the remaining Orks on the surface, assess the damage, resources, artifacts, and lost units, and begin extracting materials for repair. While I am not ungrateful for your help and do not blame you for all the destruction caused, I would like compensation for what your Tachyon Arrow did."
Despite the polite words, the underlying tone in his artificial voice was clear and the unspoken message understood: You will not leave until you pay me, do not make me demand it!
Sighing, I called my Cryptek, as I could not deny that part of this was my fault.
"Haratek, bring me my checkbook, please."
"Yes, my Lord!" The Technomancer flew away, disappearing into an Eternity Gate.
"I appreciate your generosity, join me while I decide what to do with this metallic monstrosity, I would like to be updated on the state of the galaxy and the enemies we faced today, a deep and detailed explanation if possible."
"Forgive me if this sounds rude, but you seem too calm for a Lord who had his tomb ruined." I followed him towards the large headless machine with its open stomach.
"Oh, I am furious, irritated, livid, maddened, whatever word you prefer, something I never imagined feeling again. I wish nothing more than to wrap my hands around the necks of those responsible, but this is not the time to allow feelings to cloud my judgment."
I nodded and informed him of everything that had happened during the Great Sleep, the decline of the old factions, the emergence of the new ones, and their ongoing fall, entering the subject of the Immaterium and Chaos.
Lord Zabephon remained silent the entire time, probably waiting for the explanation to finish before asking countless questions.
Something glowing faintly in a pile of charred metal interrupted our walk and, looking for its source, we spotted a strange device next to a multicolored symbol.
I would have widened my eyes if I could, I tried to get closer and put the device in range of my Shadow Ankh, but it was too late, the symbol burned and a bolt of lightning struck the machine.
There was a sharp buzz and a flash accompanied by the roar of the wind. When our vision returned, we faced a rift to the Warp that filled the hole in the Gargant's stomach, but instead of expelling Daemons, it pulled us towards it.
We magnetized our feet to the ground, slowing our advance, but we stood trapped in its pull.
Inhuman laughter and screams attacked our bodies, an uncoordinated cacophony of several voices speaking simultaneously, carried by the violent gale, and a whirlwind of monstrous forms appeared in front of us, faces eager to have us in their grip.
Putrid flesh grew and pulsed on the walls of the Gargant with a wet, rhythmic noise, indicating the initial stages of corruption.
Jagged metal spikes turned against us, creating a vertical, toothed mouth ready to devour us, and as a final touch, the whirlwind transformed into a large serpent's eye that stared at us intensely, showing us our reflection before the possible end.
Hurried footsteps drew our attention, our forces approaching, but we ordered them to stop and open fire from a distance to avoid ending like us.
"So this is what the Immaterium has become?!" Lord Zabephon cut teeth with his axes.
"This is a magic trick compared to what Chaos can do if it tries!" I fired a hail of lightning at the eye, receiving a pained animalistic screech in response.
I set my Ankh to maximum power, destabilizing the rift, and Lord Zabephon called his Spiders to use their Gloom Prisms, but it would take time for them to reach the depths of the tomb.
It was risky, but I could attempt to close the rift if I got close enough, though the chance of victory did not remove the tightness I felt in my chest, the fear of a fate worse than death at the hands of the Dark Powers.
I allowed myself to be pulled gradually, and to my surprise, the Necron Lord grabbed my arm, acting as an anchor to keep me from going too far. Little by little, the rift trembled and weakened, but the force pulling us continued to fight.
I only needed to get a few feet closer to reach the point of no return where my plan would work or not. Fortunately, that was not necessary.
A sword pierced the center of the eye from somewhere in the rift, ripping it open from top to bottom, spurting purple blood.
The creature's flesh hissed and withered, turning into a nauseating goo and revealing the one who brought its end, a young woman with long blonde hair, red armor, and bloody wings.
Saint Alexia glared at me with sharp eyes and stony face, although there was none of the same hatred and disgust as before. Her holy, luminous form took flight, raising her sword with both hands and spreading her wings to their full span.
It was as if a red star had risen in front of me, her armor and wings shone like rubies and, with a mighty war cry, the rift began to close.
In the final moments, I saw the saint frowning, and after so long, I finally heard her voice, a soft but stern tone, born of faith and discipline, promising salvation to those who fought with justice and death to the heretics.
"We will meet soon, Xeno, I do not know what an enemy of humanity has done to capture His interest, but I will judge you with my heart and faith and give my verdict, be it the favor of my blade or the end it will bring to you."
The rift closed as if it had never existed, all supernatural events ceased and I stood in a dark chamber, hearing the voices of the Necrons around me, but without understanding their words, asking myself only one thing:
What have I gotten myself into?
END OF CHAPTER