Disclaimer!: I don't own Zero no Tsukaima or Warhammer 40,000! Please don't sue!

Herald of the Void

By Nim Maj

A Necron Familiar Challenge Response Fic

Chapter 14: Albion Assault

Strangely enough, the combined Germanian and Tristain forces met little opposition. General Olivier de Poitiers, fully exploiting Herald's intelligence network sought a decisive battle, but whenever he attacked they always retreated. There was the token opposition provided by the dragon knights, but it mostly consisted of hit and run attacks. This was annoying, but hardly devastating. Eventually, the combined army found itself halting at a walled town called Saxe Gotha. Stripped of its food and abandoned by the army, Saxe Gotha would have been a difficult, but not insurmountable problem. Showing her compassion, Henrietta ordered that the army share its limited food supplies with the citizens of Saxe Gotha. In exchange, Albion offered a ceasefire to make up for the withdrawal. Accepting a temporary cease fire, both armies settled in to wait until the end of the Silver Pentecost. For Albion, this was Just As Planned.

Herald's Scarabs detected a power spike coming from... beneath Saxe Gotha? Herald teleported out to a hill overlooking the city. He focused all nearby Scarabs to scan the city. He saw parts of the town light up in flames. From his scans, fully one third of the combined forces, roughly twenty thousand men had begun rioting and killing without mercy. "Kill Henrietta. Kill Henrietta." were the only words that the rebels were chanting. Herald would have narrowed his eyes if he could. Then he received a detailed analysis of the power spike. 99% match for the Necklace of Andvari. As if controlling the dead wasn't bad enough...

Herald did the only thing he could. He saw to the evacuation of the VIPs. Henrietta would call for a meeting soon enough.

Henrietta gathered her remaining generals and Cardinal Mazarin for a strategy meeting in the port town of Rosais. Louise was beside her as her lady-in-waiting. None of the generals assembled were very high ranking ones, mostly Brigadiers or lower. Of Henrietta's advisers, only Cardinal Mazarin even knew of the existence of the Death Knights. After fixing each general with her stare, she began the meeting. "Tell me lords, what happened?" There was some shifting in unease, but no one really knew what happened. It seemed as if the one third of the army simply lost their mind and attacked their own men. Unable to fight their comrades, the combined army had to retreat to the port town of Rosais. Henrietta's datapad beeped with a message. Looking at the Necrodermis slate, one which she used to keep updated with the latest reports, she grimaced when she read it. "Mind control... I see." Looking at each other the generals asked what she meant.

"It seems that Albion employed an ancient magical artifact called the Ring of Andvari to take control of our soldiers' minds." she clarified without looking up.

Silence descended upon them. Finally however, Cardinal Mazarin suggested that the army retreat. All the generals supported him. She closed her eyes in thought. "I am aware of how our army stands lords." Henrietta says. "However, I do not think they will simply let us go. Already our turned force marches as the vanguard of Albion's army. We simply don't have the time." Debate raged for a while. Resistance was proposed, but half-heartedly, as few Tristain or Germanian soldiers would raise arms against comrades who had campaigned with them just recently. Then Mazarin had to propose sending Herald against them.

"Mazarin!" Henrietta gasped in shock.

"Please your highness! If we do not send them we will be cut off from retreat! Remember Tarbes? They could hold them off! We can escape!" he pleaded with her. Henrietta gave him a sad look.

"You misunderstand, Cardinal. If I field the Knights of Death, they will not hold the enemy at bay, they will annihilate them!"

Mazarin was confused. "But if they were so powerful, why didn't you use them in the beginning?" he asked.

She pierced him with her gaze. "I entered this war with the intention of ending the petty ambitions of Albion's nobility, the Reconquista. They waged war for their own profit. Every decision I made was with the intention of minimizing casualties and suffering." Henrietta explained. "Fifty thousand men Cardinal!" she emphasized. "That is no small number." She sagged in her chair. "The Knights of Death would have left no survivors... and now... seventy thousand, including our men..." she trailed off, her mind recoiling at the thought of so many dead. The generals looked on, fear, confusion, and shame running through them. Their gazes turned to the floor.

Mazarin got on his knees. "Please your highness, field them. Spare the forty thousand loyal soldiers under your command." He begged her. "Your safety must be assured, your honor untarnished. You cannot surrender or be caught!"

Henrietta looked sadly upon her old advisor. She was silent as she contemplated the results of her actions.

At this time, Herald appeared, teleporting in, and surprising those not used to one of his methods of entrance. The generals and Mazarin scrambled to protect Henrietta, but her raised hand kept them from acting rashly.

"Field... me." Herald asked.

Henrietta's face turned blank. "You know why I am hesitant." she replied. Herald nodded.

"I... have... a plan."

Henrietta studied Herald. "The twenty thousand? Our... controlled soldiers?" she queried.

Herald nodded. "Subdued..."

Henrietta raised an inquiring eyebrow. "How?" Herald pointed at the datapad as it was updated. Looking at it Henrietta saw the details of a spell, one that she hadn't heard of. "Glacial Fortress?"

"They... are all... commoners."

Henrietta considered the possibility. "I am not a Square-class mage." she reminded him.

"Combine,... ritual,... or divide... responsibility." replied Herald. Henrietta nodded. Then she asked tentatively.

"Albion's army?"

"They... will join... the Army... of... Death."

In the end, Henrietta had no better alternative. The Death Knights would take to the field.

Standing outside of Rosais, overlooking the plain Albion's army would have to take, Herald made last minute adjustments to his plan. It would take Albion's vanguard a little under twenty four hours to reach Rosais. That was twenty three hours and thirty minutes more than he needed to prepare for their arrival. He issued a Recall order to the other Necron forces operating around the world. They would amount to a little over one thousand five hundred in all, after factoring in the souls recently obtained in the East.

The West was a bust, it was proving too large and the people too spread out to be a good source of soldiers. Much like the steppes but fortunately that expedition ran into the Jade Empire and the Empire of the Rising Sun. However, the West was vast and a mountain range was discovered with trace amounts of exotic minerals necessary for an easy conversion into warship grade Necrodermis. The natural resources would be useful in the creation of shipyards. It also provided a safe fallback position if things turn sour in Halkeginia. Herald ordered heavy construction to begin. Plans were laid for vast shipyards. The crowning glory however was the plans for the Dark Eternal. It would take a few years, but the groundwork was laid for the first Cairn-class Tomb ship to be constructed.

A voice spoke up behind him. "So partner, where do you want me?" That annoying sword... Converting Derflinger to Necrodermis was likely the most annoying thing he had done.

Empire of the Rising Sun

The enemies were at the gates. They had appeared in the north, and had swept down, driving away all who stood before them, these black skeleton-like metal men. In a single week they had cleansed the North of all life. Now they besieged the Imperial Capital. Nothing stopped them. They didn't break through. They simply walked through the walls and into the city. The capital burned.

In the temple of the Twin Moons, in the innermost sanctum, the Priestesses huddled together. The temple guards waited anxiously as the sounds of death drew closer. They knew they didn't really stand a chance. But they would do their duty anyway.

"Hina-chan..." spoke the one garbed in an elaborate blue priestess' kimono.

"Yes Ami-chan?" replied the one garbed in red.

"Here, at the end... I just want you to know..."

Hina nodded and gestured for Ami to go on.

"You... were the best sister I could have had."

"Oh Ami, me too." She gave a weak smile and hugged her sister.

"And..."

"And?"

Ami pulled away. "I think I love you."

"Oh Ami, I do too..." she chided her sister.

Ami smiled with relief. "Oh sister!" she gushed. "I'm so happy!" Ami proceeded to kiss her sister. On the mouth. Hina went slack with shock. 'Oh. That kind of love.' she thought.

The guards' slack jawed staring was interrupted by a crashing door as a stray blast tore it open. The guards tensed while the priestesses and mikos huddled together in a dark corner of the room. From the doorway a tall black metallic figure appeared, slowly marching in. It raised the tube in its' hand, and opened fire. One, two, three guards were killed in succession as more Warriors appeared beside it. The guards quickly died. The Warriors moved into the chamber and spotted the gathered priestesses and mikos. The gathered women hugged each other and closed their eyes waiting for the blatant end. The Warriors raised their flayers to fire... and disappeared.

The Jade Empire

"So... they are gone?" asked the Jade Emperor as he observed the hole the Metal Men had made in the Great Wall. It was magicked, and had thus proven impervious to the Metal Men's disappearing trick... until they had simply blasted a hole in it... with their infantry weapons. They were pouring through the breach and into the Jade Empire when they suddenly stopped and disappeared.

"For now..." answered a Mysterious Old Guy, his beard reaching to just barely brush the dirt. "They may return, but this time there may be a chance for peace. Darkness and Death has passed. It remains to be seen what fills the Void." He said cryptically. The Emperor just 'hmmm'ed.

Forty thousand men stood outside of Rosais. Overhead, clouds gathered and hung dark and heavy with rain. In the center of the formation, Henrietta was completing the casting of the spell which would protect them. With a shout of "Glacial Fortress!" the city was surrounded by tall walls of ice. Henrietta collapsed into the arms of her musketeers. As a symbolic act, she had put her all into casting the Glacial Fortress. She would be otherwise useless in the ensuing battle. Generals ordered their men onto the walls. Henrietta placed her banner over the main gate. She sat down in a chair provided for her. Her message was clear: she would stand, and if necessary die with them. Before, she had proven her compassion to the men by ordering them to share their food with the people. Now she showed her steel by fighting with them, and by mobilizing the Death Knights. They would not see how the Death Knights fought however, being too busy holding off the vanguard. But that was alright. They would be able to hear them.

The Albionese Army followed in the wake of their vanguard. The twenty thousand 'turned' troops would wear them down and demoralize them allowing the Albionese to fight a weak and disheartened enemy in an exposed position, the port town of Rosais, a town without a wall, which was all the advantages they needed. In theory. Since Albion's loss in Tarbes was credited to Divine Intervention thanks to Heralds information blackout, Albion felt pretty good about the upcoming battle. Imagine their surprise to see the vanguard hacking away uselessly at an ice wall surrounding Rosais.

Then they saw forty-six black metallic Monoliths slowly dropping from the cloud-covered sky and landing around them. These Monoliths deployed their Energy Matrixes and powered up their portals. In their front, the Portals activated with a glow of green energy. From the portals stepped out roughly 1500 black metallic Warriors, Immortals, Wraiths and Destroyers. They were followed by a few dozen Tomb Spyders, and a couple hundred thousand Attack Scarabs. They filled the sky in the form of low hanging clouds humming with the beats of a million wings. The Army of Death charged. An army of 1500 charged an army of 50,000.

From above swept the Scarabs, darting in and out among the infantry. Too small to hit, and made of Necrodermis, the Albionese Army dissolved into confusion. Green blasts of lightning speared through their ranks, sometimes taking out several people at a time.

Officers and Generals tried to rally their men in the seething melee, and were hoisted above their horrified men on the tails of Wraiths, wicked sharp hands, piercing their bodies, ignoring flesh, steel, and bone. One unlucky officer was brought up above his platoon, and in full view, the Wraith sank its' hand into his face, five long-taloned fingers spearing through, middle finger going through the forehead, index and ring fingers going through the eyes, and thumb and pinkie fingers going through the cheekbones. The hand w as removed and the face brutalized further by repeated stabbings before the corpse was hurled into the ranks of horrified infantry.

Tomb Spyders crushed any gatherings of men, their hands spinning up and piercing through the ineffective metal armor on their enemies.

Behind the advancing line of black metal men, the Monoliths poured blast after blast of Particle Whips into their ranks, vaporising the largest concentrations of the enemy and sending those standing nearby into the air.

Thoroughly panicked, the army routed, trying to get away, fleeing back through the way they came from. But from the center Monolith, a unique golem stepped out. Green and pink energy gathered in its' hands, darkness engulfing it in concealing clouds, followed by a gigantic Being rose from the darkness. Its' skin was the color of bronze, a similarly colored cloth was draped on It, giving It modesty, but the cloth seemed to have a life of its own, seeming to turn red when viewed in a different light. A gem gleamed on its forehead. Five horn-like protrusions swept back from around the gem, forming the head. The face sneered at the rushing Albionese. With a wave of Its hand, The Monoliths guarding their escape route doubled. There was no escape.

Turning again, the army ran as fast as it could in the opposite direction, toward the city, to no avail. More Necrons appeared from nowhere, disappearing from the flanks to bolster the front. The tattered remnants of the army waded into the hail of Particle Whips and Gauss blasts. Their numbers continued to dwindle, again and again, the mob was herded to a weak side, hoping to escape the death trap, only to face reinforcements. They broke into a dead run to the flanks. One side was reinforced by the arrival of another unique golem.

The quillon of the weapon the golem had moved, and a voice came forth. "No hard feelings, but partner can't let any of you escape. Have at you!" It charged, and reinforcements poured from the portals, having entered from the side boosted by the appearance of the giant.

There was no escape. Of the fifty thousand men of Albion's army, less than a hundred men survived, only those who left their comrades to die and braved the gauntlet.

There was no battle.

Only a slaughter and the laughter of a thirsting God.

Looking out over the massacre, Herald was pleased. His gaze turned to the Essence of the Deceiver. It seemed somehow fitting, that Brimir would destroy those who turned against his descendants. And to think that it would be Wales Tudor, the Field Commander of the Halkeginian Necrons and one of his descendants to bear the Essence in battle. The Deceiver would be pleased, Herald thought.

Immediately following the battle, Herald passed orders to occupy all the cities and towns of Albion with Necrons and to establish a blockade of Albion of all non-Allied ships.

Plans within Plans. Mephet'ran, better known as the Deceiver made plans. Arrayed against him were the Imperium of Mankind, the Eldar remnant, Chaos, Tyranids, Tau, and the ever present thorn in the side the Krork, Orks as they were now called. He was slowly building up his forces, bringing them back online, but it was slow going. Chaos needed to be weakened first. The Eldar had just recently proved to still have a Blade of Vaul. Anything made by Vaul was Bad news. The 13th Black Crusade had proved entertaining to watch! But best of all, was his acquisition of the Shadowlight! With that artifact of the Old Ones in Necron hands the gap between the Immaterium and the Materium would not grow smaller, giving him time to either find a way to reverse its' effect or at least keep it away from the other powers.

It was while he was plotting things that a he received information from a sliver of his Essence.

The Deceiver's thoughts ran this way:

What.

The.

Fuck.

Londinium

The Albion Parliament was in session. The representatives huddled in fear, hushed voices whispering to each other. They had all heard. Despite the tremendous advantage they had, an army of fifty thousand, Albion's entire Amy was completely crushed, the few survivors spreading impossible tales of golems, carrying green lightning, of comrades being flayed alive by the green lightning, and of towering monoliths, blasting brave soldiers to oblivion, scouring even the earth they once stood upon, and worst of all, their leaders, torn to pieces before them by ghosts.

Sheffield, the late Cromwell's secretary and their leader after his death, was missing.

The door to the chamber opened, and a large floating beetle moved to the center of the room, drawing the nobles' attention. Stopping in the middle, its' back opened and a frightening figure appeared before them, ghost-like in appearance. It looked like a humanoid skeletal golem with large pauldrons clutching a bladed staff.

"How... are... you... gentlemen?" the figure said. "All... your... base... are... belong... to... us..."

Herald made a note to schedule Scarab 101CAT5 for a diagnostic. It seems it had faulty translation software...

The Holy Land

The Holy Land, the land of Founder Brimir's birth. Taken from him by the elves, this was the land they called home. The elves took upon themselves to guard this land from the humans, all too easily tricked by darker powers. Here, a gate stood, indestructible, in spite of the elves powerful magicks, it still stood. Over six millennia has passed since the elves took over the Holy Land, yet it still stands. To them, it was an abomination. Against all nature and reason it stands against the test of time.

The elves have legends about it. Supposedly it is a gate, that if opened, would mean the end of the world. Their legends speak of Shaitan, the polluter of the world, and how this gate stands as a testament to his power, sealing him away, yet providing a means for him to return. And so they guard it against the foolish humans.

Now the elven guards stand, nervous as the gate has seen activity lately. Little more than two weeks ago, it flickered to life, even for a few seconds before dying out, the unnatural stone going cold, having briefly warmed up. A week later it activated again, this time for a few minutes before it too flickered out. But for any who checked, the stone remained warm to the touch. Thus the increased guard. Now, a little over a week later, it once again flickered to life. A minute passed, then two. Then something appeared in the gate, stepping out to see the gathered elves. The creature smiled.

In the Holy Land, a cry was raised, the Doom of Worlds.

"WAAAGH!"

Author's Notes:

The 20k troops who were 'turned' did so only because they drank water from the reservoirs. All combat mages drank wine because they were 'nobles'. Hence no turned mages. At least in my calculation.

Fourty-six Monoliths? Really? Yup! They lack manpower and need to make up for it in automation. Plus he has had 2 weeks to build up. Herald made 1 manufactorum in the beginning. 2 weeks ago, he had 2, and 3 manufactorums. Each newly built manufactorum could build a new one and the others produced Monoliths stopping only to make bodies and Scarabs. So every day a new manufactorum is produced and each manufactorum already constructed can be made to make a new Monolith along with the others already making. 13 one day, 14 the next and so on until they run out of materials. That's still a lot of Necrodermis.

Darketernal and Mysterious Old Guy's shout outs! Their rewards for getting it right! Otherwise they have no other story relevance. For the foreseeable future...

Heehee, I told you that the Deceiver and the C'tan have nothing to do with the Zero-verse! He's having a WTF? moment right now! Herald and the others made logical conclusions... which were still wrong!

Shaitan is another name for Satan FYI.

The future... is gonna be Grim, Dark, and awesomefun!