Since I neglected to do so last chapter, allow me to state this now: I don't own Warhammer 40,000. Or the Necrons. Or Nemesor Zahndrekh and Vargard Obyron. I don't even own the Iron Hands. I don't even HAVE Iron Hands! Or Iron Arm for that matter. Curse you, Tyranids…ahem. All of that is owned by Games Workshop. I only really own the personalities of the OC's.

No wait, don't leave! These OC's aren't OP! I promise! Here, cookie if you read!

Now, back to Zahndrekh's grimdark (?) misadventures.


Darkened halls lit the corridor leading towards the Tomb World's core, with the only light source being the pulsing green energy flowing through the crisscrossing tubes attached to the walls, floor, and ceiling (aside from each Necrons' individual sensory lights from where their eyes once were). Nemesor Zahndrekh's metal footsteps clanged on the floor as he marched down the corridor, with Vargard Obyron tailing right behind alongside the Tomb World's resident Warriors and Necron Immortals that survived the Iron Hands's assault. Nemesor Zahndrekh, while curious of this Tomb World and its inhabitants, still felt a twinge of nervousness as he strode down the corridors.

"…Obyron," Zahndrekh began. "Do you sense…anything yet?"

"No, my Lord, I do not sense any Canoptek Wraiths," Obyron reassured in his usual, flat, robotic tone of voice. "However, the Canoptek Spyders are aware of our incursion. Most likely they are watching us at this moment to make sure we are true Necron instead of a lesser species trying to-"

"NECRONTYR," Zahndrekh bellowed, his voice traveling down the hall ahead of him. "It's not Necron, Obyron! …heh, Necron, Obyron. It rhymes, Obyron, and I am now amused by this. Perhaps your insanity is useful on occasion."

Vargard Obyron felt the familiar twitch once more, before responding. "My lord, I highly doubt I am insane," Obyron stated. "I highly doubt I am the insane one here, as well."

"Oh, how rude of me," Zahndrekh apologized. "I really should be more tolerant of your verbal problem. Ah well, it may have been several dozens of years already since we have woken up from the Great Sleep, but I'm sure your verbal flaw is only because we've taken a millennia-spanning nap."

"…yes, MY verbal flaw," Obyron faintly muttered.

"Oh, Obyron, I see the antechamber!" Zahndrekh giddily informed. "I do hope we get a friendly Lord to greet us this time! Last time was painful, right Obyr-?"

"We just went over this, my Lord," Obyron reminded. "It's been only fifteen minutes and thirty four and one-quarter seconds since we discussed this last."

"…how do you know quarter-seconds, Obyron?" Zahndrekh questioned. "Have you been taking temporal lessons of some sort from Orikan the Diviner?"

"No, my Lord," Obyron stated. "I have a timer built into my necrodermis."

"You have a timer in your what?" Zahndrekh gaped. "Sounds painful."

Vargard Obyron merely sighed at this out of annoyance, realizing he should've just agreed to Zahndrekh's false claims. "Then again, he'd probably question me on when I've had the time to study the temporal streams," Obyron realized mentally. A half-minute ticked by before Zahndrekh, Obyron, and the rest of the following Necrons entered the antechamber of the new Tomb World.

"…we have arrived, my Lord," Obyron stated, trying to be as frank as possible to avoid another of Zahndrekh's irritatingly random tangents.

Zahndrekh looked around in wonder at the Tomb World, happy to see a familiar backdrop once more. The Canoptek Spyders –large black automations looking very similar to a robotic spider – scurried on the ceiling, their tiny, almost similar-looking Canoptek Scarab offspring single-mindedly following them. Necron Warriors and Immortals sat in rectangular "rooms" of a sort, deactivated and still within the confines of the Great Sleep. Already-awakened Warriors and Immortals roamed the grounds, fidgeting as they remember exactly how to walk and how to see. Zahndrekh chuckled upon seeing the Warriors stumble and fall, only for Immortals to do the same thing seconds afterwards, regardless if the latter were assisting or antagonizing the former.

"Ah, Obyron, look upon the inferior as they stumble about, like a baby out of its mother's womb," Zahndrekh chuckled. "Reminds me of when I first saw my own daughter."

"Are you perhaps referring to the 'sentimentality' that comes with being the father of a child?" Obyron sarcastically asked.

"Actually, I'm reminiscing over how she kept falling down stairs," Zahndrekh sighed, dissonantly happy with that memory. "That memory reminds me of this situation, Obyron. But not because of an old Necrontyr's sentimentality. That shit was funny."

While Obyron stared in what could be interpreted as minor shock, Zahndrekh started bellowing out laughter rivaled only by a heartily drunk Space Wolf. "Look at them stumble, Obyron! They are all like my child! And I shall make them ALL my children!"

"I shall inform Child Services once we have announced our presence, my Lord," Obyron sarcastically muttered. To Obyron's relief, Zahndrekh had not heard the criticizing quip in favor of dramatically walking up to the nearest guard rail. Once at said nearest guardrail, Zahndrekh took in a deep breath.

"…such an action is pointless, but I doubt Zahndrekh would even notice," Obyron mentally chastised.

"FELLOW NECRONTYR!" Zahndrekh began. "LEND ME YOUR ATTENTION, MY CHILDREN, FOR YOUR NEW OVERLORD HAS ARRIVED!"


The Necron Warriors and Immortals of the area, previously unaware, now turned and stared at Nemesor Zahndrekh, unaware of how he was there, who he was, or what he was there for. However, while the numerous Warriors and Immortals stared upwards at the Nemesor, two regal Necrons stood high within one of the many rectangular rooms the Necrons "slept" within. The first of the two regal Necrons was obviously someone of high status, as the Necrons' body was not only similar to shape to Nemesor Zahndrekh's, but many decorative symbols were adorned on its body and its free-flowing, regal cape. The second royal Necron, while obviously a noble, did not have the same sort of gaudy get-up, however; his body was similar to a Necron Immortal at best, although it did wear a smaller, more subdued version of the first Necron's royal cape. Standing upon the edge, the higher Necron royal let loose what the lesser Necron royal could only note as a groan of irritation.

"…I did not expect a fool in a metal husk to arrive, let alone assert power over my domain," the higher Necron royal groaned.

"How did a Necron so flawed and broken in its design gain the title of a Nemesor, though?" the lower Necron royal stated, pointing at the bombastic Nemesor Zahndrekh as he did so. "This Necron wears the headgear of a Nemesor, and the cloak is unmistakable."

"The cloak is unmistakable, but the body wearing it is a mistake," the higher Necron royal growled. "To even assert Overlordship before deferring to the current Overlord…I care not if he is a Nemesor of another dynasty. This Tomb World is MY Tomb World."

"You DID rightfully defeat the other Overlords," the lower Necron royal reminded. "Shall I prepare the Deathmarks?"

"Yes. And get more than usual. The bodyguard may be a problem, and a Nemesor will ALWAYS have a trick or two up its sleeve," the higher Necron royal warned. "Be prepared to unleash the Canoptek Wraiths if needed."

"Understood, Overlord Nihilvokh," the lesser Necron royal stated; the lesser Necron royal turned to his left, approaching a holopad set on the wall of the room. A swift swipe of his metal claw of a hand, followed by a couple seconds of near-silent typing, brought up a holoscreen showing the head of a Deathmark: a mere metal skull like a Warrior or Immortal with only one centered eye on their skull, with a metallic helmet of sorts covering the backs of their heads, outlining their unnatural design.

"Lord Ghedis, what are your orders?" the Deathmark plainly questioned. The lesser Necron royal, Lord Ghedis, turned back to the higher-ranked Overlord Nihilvokh before answering; the Overlord stared down the unaware Nemesor Zahndrekh with a burning vitriol usually reserved for the Eldar.

"Do it," Nihilvokh reminded. Ghedis nodded, before turning back to the ever-patient Deathmark.

"Gather all available Deathmarks. Find a good place to get a view of our new "overlords," and disintegrate them," Ghedis ordered. The Deathmark nodded, and the holoscreen was cut. Ghedis returned to Nihilvokh's side, staring down at Nemesor Zahndrekh and Vargard Obyron with a similar-yet-less-potent hatred compared to his master.


Yet neither Ghedis's nor Nihilvokh's collective hatreds could match Vargard Obyron's intense glare towards Nemesor Zahndrekh at this point.

"YOU WILL ALL ENJOY FEASTS! FEASTS OF FISH! TOASTED IN WOODEN OVENS OF OLD, SERVED WITH THE FRESH DIPPING SAUCE OF ELDAR BLOOD! Or marinara sauce, for those who are squeamish," Zahndrekh continued to bellow; the Necrons watching simply stared, mostly confused, appalled, and morbidly curious. "MY CHILDREN, TODAY YOU FIGHT FOR A UNITED DYNASTY! ONE THAT WILL EXTERMINATE THE SEPERATIST LEGIONS AND USE THEIR BLOOD AS FOOD FOR YOUR PET FLAYED ONES! …those things are pets, right? Obyron, are they pets?"

"My Lord, those…things aren't supposed to exist!" Obyron growled, almost feeling hatred in the fraction of the sliver of the piece of his soul that remained. "The Flayed Ones are infectious, disgusting abominations that should be slaughtered! They are an embarrassment to the Necron race!"

Nemesor Zahndrekh merely stared at Obyron with what seemed to be a mix of annoyance and disappointment. Obyron stared back, slowly realizing what Zahndrekh was about to chastise him on.

"…my Lord…they are an embarrassment…to the NECRONTYR…race…" Obyron spat out, nearly shaking from the echoes of anger that resonated in his metal body. Zahndrekh smiled once more, before turning to the masses again.

"JOIN ME, AND THE GALAXY WILL BE OURS LIKE THE DAYS OF OLD!" Zahndrekh continued, flailing his arms boisterously, sending out body language signals that not even the most advanced Necron Immortal could pick up on its radar.


Ten Deathmarks – with bodies reminiscent of Necron Immortals, and a glowing green eye centered on all ten of them – gathered above the tops of the rectangular Necron sleeping chambers. Each one carried a synaptic disintegrator in their hands; it looked like a long barreled sniper rifle, similar in design to a rocket launcher, with a smaller hole for more precise shots. The Deathmarks got down on their chestpieces and looked over the edge; Obyron was not looking at them immediately, although the ten of them knew Obyron could see them in his peripheral vision, if he so chose. The ten Deathmarks raised their synaptic disintegrators, all aimed right at Zahndrekh's head.

Across from them, on the tops of the buildings where Nihilvokh and Ghedis watched Zahndrekh and Obyron, another group of ten Deathmarks set up. The second set of Deathmarks then turned to the last set it could see: a group of the final five Deathmarks, all crack shots in their own right, got into position behind a pylon-like structure. All twenty-five Deathmarks, now in place, lined up shots at Zahndrekh, still gleefully unaware of the strength about to rain down upon him.


"SO, WHAT SAY YOU, MY NECRONTYR BROTHERS!? SHALL YOU JOIN ME!?" Zahndrekh bellowed out one last time, ending his bombastic speech. A thick silence filled the antechamber, with Obyron hopelessly waiting for Zahndrekh to realize that Warriors had no ability to speak, and Immortals were generally silent as well.

Obyron then heard the loud cracks and electrical whizzing associated with Necron weaponry being fired.

Obyron looked on in shock as Zahndrekh was hit with many synaptic disintegrator shots; while Obyron noted five had missed, a stunning twenty of the twenty-five shots Obyron had seen been fired hit Zahndrekh. Several pierced his body, other bounces off, and the rest singed his metallic body. Zahndrekh took several steps back, obviously in shock; the Necron Warriors and Immortals merely looked on towards Zahndrekh, unfazed by the assassination attempt. Zahndrekh immediately looked up, looking angry beyond all belief, as the burns on his armor started to fade and the several holes through his body began to re-knit themselves.

"Oh, so THAT'S how it is huh?" Zahndrekh growled, very angry. Reaching on his back, Zahndrekh pulled out a large staff, with its only unique feature being three metallic prongs poking bluntly outwards at the top of the staff on both its sides. Obyron then pulled out his Warscythe as well, determined to execute the assassins post-haste. "Obyron, what did you see?"

"Twenty-five shots, my Lord," Obyron stated.

"Where?" Zahndrekh asked hastily.

"Five in front, ten on the upper-left building, ten on the upper-right building," Obyron stated.

"Kill them. Capture the leader or leaders."

"Understood."

With that, Obyron melted into shadow, disappearing entirely from behind Nemesor Zahndrekh. The angered Nemesor looked forwards at the five Deathmarks that had shot at him; he saw them getting prepared to fire once more.

"My turn," the Nemesor insanely chuckled. Immediately, Nemesor Zahndrekh charged forwards towards the path of least resistance, aiming to kill the Deathmarks who dare scratch his skin (armor, really, but insanity overrides truth here). However, while Zahndrekh pushed the stoic and otherwise neutral Warriors and Immortals out of the way…


…Overlord Nihilvokh and Ghedis looked down upon Zahndrekh, unsurprised at this outcome. Ghedis tapped on the left side of his head twice, before speaking quietly into his left claw of a hand.

"Deathmarks, get the Nemesor now," Ghedis ordered. "Keep him pinned; the Wraiths will locate and make necrodermis mincemeat of his bodyguard."

"Understood," one Deathmark acknowledged from the internal headset of sorts, before the connection was lost. Nihilvokh looked onwards at Zahndrekh with stoic determination, his glare a burning stare of hatred.

"Ghedis," Nihilvokh growled. "Find information on that fool Nemesor who dares oppose me."

"Understood," Ghedis acknowledged; the Necron Lord turned his back to the temporary entertainment, headed towards an arched exit on the back wall of the room. Overlord Nihilvokh continued looking down upon the disturbance, muttering unintelligible slurs and insults to himself.


The five Deathmarks popped out from behind their cover, aiming their synaptic disintegrators right at the charging Nemesor Zahndrekh. Unfortunately for them, Zahndrekh won the quick draw of weapons; three bolts of white electricity connected with three targets easily, killing each Deathmark outright. The Deathmarks then fired haphazardly at the Nemesor, missing both of their shots out of the surprise of losing three guns in one go. The Nemesor quickly shot at the two remaining Deathmarks, knocking them over while Zahndrekh turned to focus on the other three Deathmarks. He noted off the bat one had died outright, but the other was attempting to reassemble itself. Nemesor Zahndrekh gleefully smirked at this woeful attempt at a second chance.

"You rebellious fool," Zahndrekh darkly chuckled. "You try to fix what has wounded you, but I know your weak point!"

Before the Deathmark could completely repair the damage already inflicted on him, Nemesor Zahndrekh raised his right leg and brought his full weight down upon the Deathmark's skull. Once. Twice. Three times, with the casing of the Deathmark cracking each time.

Zahndrekh then brought his foot down one final time, completely crushing the Deathmark's skull, leaving a mess of broken necrodermis lying on the ground. Zahndrekh quickly took his staff and aimed it at the wound he had inflicted, before jamming most of the staff into the Deathmark; Zahndrekh let loose a boisterous laugh as he then fired his three electrical shots out of his staff, completely frying the Deathmark's insides, leaving the entire body unusable. With a potent stride, Zahndrekh turned around and victoriously raised his staff.


The ten Deathmarks residing on the rooftop opposite of Overlord Nihilvokh took aim at Zahndrekh, having lined up each of their shots perfectly in order to completely wipe out Zahndrekh. Through their synaptic disintegrator's sights, they saw Zahndrekh stand up tall, laughing and gloating about his power. The ten Deathmarks put their fingers on the triggers, and-

Seven Deathmarks fell forward immediately, each of them perfectly severed between their legs and upper body, to all of their surprise. The three Deathmarks turned around to face their combatant, only to be quickly kicked off the side of the building by Vargard Obyron. Looking down to the seven Deathmarks, he saw that only two were actually dead: the other five were attempting reanimation. Vargard Obyron brought his scythe down upon two of the reanimating Deathmarks, letting gravity take their heads down to the masses of emerging Warriors and Immortals below. The Vargard prepared himself to strike down another Deathmark, before catching wind of a small wall of green energy flying straight at him. The Vargard jumped back, barely missing the wall of energy, and saw the other ten Deathmarks taking aim at him once more.

More importantly, the Vargard also saw Nihilvokh; the two exchanged glances, with the Overlord glaring at him out of anger, and the Vargard returning a gaze of annoyance and potential boredom.

"The shadows make it hard to tell, but that Necron fits the poise and stature of a Necron Overlord," Obyron quickly deduced. "A planned attack…interesting."

The Vargard witnessed another wall of green coming right for him; with momentum on his side, the Vargard charged forward to the three reassembled and standing Deathmarks he was dueling with earlier. One Deathmark shot out at the Vargard hastily, connecting the shot with Obyron's armor but failing to do anything beyond superficial damage; Obyron then swung his Warscythe, butchering the three Deathmarks with enough force to send both their severed upper bodies and their legs down to the streets below. Turning back to the second wave of Deathmarks, the Vargard again saw a wave of green approaching him.

If the Vargard could, he would've smirked at that moment.


While the Vargard was busy slaughtering the Deathmarks above, the Nemesor raised his own voice so it could carry itself across the swathes of Warriors and Immortals that have now gathered.

"LOOK UPON MY NOBLE VISAGE, MY NECRONTYR BROTHERS!" Nemesor Zahndrekh shouted. "YOU HAVE SLEPT FOR SO LONG, AND YOU AWAKE TO INCOMPETENT RULERS! NO MORE!"

The Necron Warriors and Immortals, as well as the ever-angry Overlord Nihilvokh, looked upon Zahndrekh; Nihilvokh and a couple Necrons, however, averted their eyes and attention upon seeing three Deathmarks fall to their deaths.

"FOR TOO LONG HAVE WE BEEN THE PLAYTHINGS OF THE GREATER FORCES OF THE GALAXY!" Nemesor Zahndrekh boasted. "AND FOR TOO LONG, WE HAVE TOILED IN A NEAR ENDLESS AND DREAMLESS SLUMBER! INSANITY GROPES AT OUR MINDS, WAITING TO BE FURTHERED BY THE INEPTITUDE OF DESPOT NOBLES WHOM HAVE NOTHING BUT CARDS TO BACK UP THEIR GAME!"

Overlord Nihilvokh's glare intensified upon hearing those words, especially considering the hypocrisy of them due to the charge against nobles being spoken from the mouth of a noble. Looking back to the slaughtered Deathmarks, the Overlord caught the eyes of the Nemesor's silent bodyguard; Nihilvokh fervently stared at Obyron, his hatred obvious and plentiful.

"So the bodyguard is eliminating my forces while his master gloats? Who does this fool think he is?" Nihilvokh chastised mentally. Fortunately for Nihilvokh, his anger dissipated into black humor whenever he saw Obyron dodge another wave of green energies; three more of his Deathmarks fell to the crowd of confused Warriors and Immortals below, followed by a second wave of green energy charging straight to Obyron's position. Nihilvokh contorted his metallic face to as close a smirk as he could've possibly managed.

As soon as the wave of energy passed, Obyron was gone. Nihilvokh chuckled to himself, his pride returning. A clank of metallic footsteps fell behind him.

"Ghedis, inform my Royal Court that we have one less problem," Nihilvokh ordered. "Now, what information on that foolish Nemesor did you find?"

"Well, I can agree with you that he IS a bona fide fool…"

Nihilvokh stood up rigidly, his sensors picking up two important changes in his environment. One: that voice was NOT Ghedis's; to other species, Necron vocals would sound the same, but each Necron could easily pick up small changes in tone emitted from the unique vocal receptors installed in Necron nobility for purposes of identification.

And two: he currently had the broad side of a Warscythe sticking cleanly through his torso.

"…but he is a fool with powerful subordinates," Obyron quipped, his voice lacking the smugness and poison commonly associated with assassins successful in witnessing their target's last moments. Obyron let go of his Warscythe and quickly spun Nihilvokh's body around to face his attacker; to prevent the Overlord from falling, Obyron grabbed Nihilvokh's chestplate and held it tightly between his metallic fingers.

"Who…how…?" Nihilvokh sputtered.

"How cliché," Obyron mentally chastised. "I need only speak two words for you to understand who it is you tried to assassinate."

"…foolish…little…" Nihilvokh growled, gaining back some semblance of strength while his necrodermis began repairing his wound.

"Nemesor. Zahndrekh."

In one moment, Nihilvokh went utterly stiff as both the name and realization hit him: he had just tried to assassinate the esteemed Nemesor Zahndrekh. In a second moment, Nihilvokh realized Zahndrekh's cold and impersonal bodyguard, Vargard Obyron, was the Necron standing before him.

In a third moment, Nihilvokh couldn't even voice his false apologies; Obyron spun him around again and forcefully removed the Warscythe, before beheading the opposing Overlord, cutting off his extremities, slicing his torso into pieces, and crushing the skull under his boot.

It took only three seconds and one stomp to quell the head of this threat. Obyron chuckled to himself, his chuckle empty like the void of space itself. A flurry of metallic steps behind him alerted him to a new presence; Obyron turned around, coming face-to-face with a Necron Lord holding a datapad of sorts. The Lord looked at Obyron, then at the remains of Nihilvokh, before sighing.

"My name is Lord Ghedis," Ghedis began.

"That's nice," Obyron deadpanned.

"I just found out that's Nemesor Zahndrekh down there after talking with the Harbingers of Eternity within the Royal Catacombs," Ghedis sighed. "I don't trust them with battle plans, but with individuals and their respective identities, I take their words at face value."

"Really?" Obyron sarcastically responded.

"Since Overlord Nihilvokh is dead, that makes you the fifth Necron noble I'm theoretically going to serve under," Ghedis stated; this piqued Obyron's interested in the slightest of ways.

"Theoretically? I care not for your previous employers, but what gives you the idea Zahndrekh would ever want some traitorous scum like you on his Royal Court?" Obyron accused. "If I didn't know any better, I'd accuse you of being a descendant of the Nekthyst Dynasty."

Ghedis's stance changed ever so slightly, obviously stiffening up at that pseudo-accusation. "Nekthysts are traitors. Mercenaries. Boot-licking BITCHES," Ghedis grunted, using what little organic emotion stored within his core to emphasize his point. "I am proud to have been from the Oruscar Dynasty, but I am not proud enough to foolishly defy my superiors. I am a Necron LORD for a reason."

"Because you're weak?" Obyron mocked. To his surprise, Ghedis let his guard down.

"Yes," Ghedis stated bluntly. "I tried vying for Overlordship on my initial awakening. Overlord Byrinkarr – my first 'employer' – put me in my place. As did Overlord Rauzmah. I learned my lesson the second time. And considering you and Nemesor Zahndrekh are members of the Sautekh Dynasty…I'd rather not commit suicide opposing you."

"…you have a brain," Obyron stated; a small realization then came to mind. "…you're the real leader behind this Tomb World, aren't you?"

A brief moment of silence took hold of the conversation. Ghedis looked Obyron in his optics, before nodding, never once looking away. "The Overlords here are brain dead insane. Nihilvokh…or what remains of him…was undisputedly the smartest of the four I've served under," Ghedis explained. "I've dealt with their documents, their battle plans for opposition, and all the other menial tasks that couldn't be shifted off to some two-bit Warrior who happened to be in the room."

Vargard Obyron kept silent as he analyzed Lord Ghedis, sensing a near-invisible signal being sent from Ghedis's metallic skull. "Sending a signal for backup, eh?" Obyron stated to himself as he silently began tracking the signal and deciphering it. "…no…no wait. You're only calling off the Deathmarks above us? …hmm…that's actually smart of you to do such a thing…hmm. You could be of use. You haven't deceived me thus far. You've shown only primordial fear. And logic. …logic."

"I'm not going to fight either you or Zahndrekh," Ghedis stated. "I also have called off Nihilvokh's backup attack on…well, you."

"There was a backup?" Obyron asked, honestly surprised. "I didn't think this air-headed hunk of junk could plan a contingency."

"In all honestly, it was only six Canoptek Wraiths," Ghedis revealed, almost bitter in how he delivered the information. "Those things are a force to be reckoned with, especially when facing a full squad, but they are bugs compared to Necron royalty."

"…I'm taking you to the Nemesor," Obyron ordered. "Quickest way is for me to use my Ghostwalk Mantle. Stand next to me. Now."

"Alright. I won't question you," Ghedis obeyed, walking next to the large and imposing Vargard quickly. Obyron quickly tapped the back of his right hand twice with two fingers; in a split second, both surviving Necrons vanished into thin air. Nihilvokh's battered and destroyed corpse remained lying on the ground; one of the arms twitched once, then fell inactive for eternity.


"…NEED NOT WORRY ABOUT SUFFRAGE MY FELLOW NECRONTYR!" Zahndrekh boasted; Obyron quickly made out his master's voice as he reappeared behind the Nemesor mid-speech. "I TREAT ALL NECRONTYR OF ALL GENDERS EQUALLY! BUT I STILL OUTRANK YOU!"

Zahndrekh's voice quickly went from loud, slow, and boasting to normal, fast, and detailed in but an instant. "Finer details of the chains of command shall and will be explained to those qualified to hear the full explanation; otherwise, I will purposefully keep you in the dark so you can fear the unknown, which will allow me to control you more so I don't activate some sort of contingency you think I have planned for you," Zahndrekh plainly stated, confusing the already-weirded-out Necron crowd even more.

"…my Lord, are you pretending you're advertising something?" Obyron incredulously asked. Ghedis could only stare in shock and confusion to agree with Obyron's previous statement, fully realizing who he was in the presence of at this moment. The Nemesor quickly turned around, and – after quickly eyeballing Ghedis – he turned towards Obyron.

"Obyron, I am advertising my regime to these civilians," Zahndrekh corrected. "They do have a choice after all. Stay here and die or come with me and die later for a better cause."

"I hardly think that is a good selling point, my Lord," Obyron deadpanned.

"Well, it's an offer they can't really refuse, can they?" Zahndrekh responded, a smirk evident on his robotic face. Turning back to the crowd, Zahndrekh's voice was raised one last time.

"NOW, AS I HAVE SAID BEFORE I WAS RUDELY INTERRUPTED BY POTSHOT REBELS, WILL YOU JOIN ME!?" Zahndrekh bellowed. The Necron crowd fell silent, all of them silently debating amongst their own minds on whether to join Zahndrekh or stay loyal to the (unknown to them) deceased Nihilvokh. Several silent seconds scurried on by, before Ghedis walked forth to Zahndrekh's side.

"THE OVERLORD IS DEAD!" Ghedis yelled. "NIHILVOKH IS NO MORE!"

The Necron Warriors and Immortals looked to each other, confused no longer. Each Necron then rose their weaponry, vocalizing a dull chant of approval towards Zahndrekh. Zahndrekh laughed silently to himself, before turning to Obyron and Ghedis.

"I take it you stopped the ringleader of this little diversion then? Good show, Obyron!" Zahndrekh congratulated.

"It was of no issue, my Lord," Obyron stated, graciously accepting the praise.

"I believe you deserve a reward Obyron! FISH! Yes, it shall be delicious," Zahndrekh chuckled to himself; Obyron stared once more at Zahndrekh, his mind blank at the re-realization of Zahndrekh's insanity.

"Now, I'd LOVE to chat with whichever captive you brought me today, Obyron, but I am most famished from our excursion!" Zahndrekh stated, much to Obyron's and Ghedis's shock. "LESSER NOBLE! Take me to your Royal Court so I may procure an idea of where the nearest eatery is established! Unless you are the only noble…?"

"Uh, no, there are others! This way, please, to the Royal Catacombs!" Ghedis meekly obliged, wanting to simply get Zahndrekh so he wants so he'll shut up. Zahndrekh followed innocently, rubbing his hands together and throwing his arms every which way in random, spastic throes of attempted evil laughter.

"…why…?" Obyron moaned under his breath; the Vargard skulked off after the Nemesor, realizing he simply just wanted to get drunk and forget this entire experience.

Then he realized he was a Necron and therefore couldn't get drunk ever again.

Needless to say, Obyron was sad.


Well, THAT took longer than expected to write. I was gonna add an extra scene to end this chapter here, but I figured I can hold that one off until the next chapter. Since this is kinda an opening arc for characterization and everything.

While I do have the Necron Codex available, I'm going to possibly make mistakes in the future regarding Necron interactions with other species (since each codex is supposed to have biased fluff towards the race the codex is describing, right?) so if there's an inconsistency, I'd appreciate it being pointed out.

Finally, a bit of pointless trivia for here: when I started writing this chapter, I was playfully cursing the Tyranids since my best friend uses them effectively. I uploaded this today, a while after winning a battle against said Tyranids. But I will mention I forgot Canoptek Wraiths do NOT have Reanimation Protocols, so the legitimacy of the battle is dubious at best. (sheepish shrug)

Anyways, I'll try to update sooner instead of playing Xbox Live until 4 in the morning on weekends. INFERNOX out!

...

Oh, and here's your cookie. I keep my word.