ok, as I am writing this it is my fathers birthday. that is why I delayed (that and It was late when I remembered to do this and I was tired).
this was made by the stormlord
forum/threads/warhammer-45k.212112/page-2#post-5210161
the tech priest started up the projector.
The King's War and the Second's Escape
In 768.M42, the Octarian War was still going on. The Orks and the Tyranids of Hive Fleet Leviathan were locked in a quagmire - and for good reason. Leviathan had evolved ever new and ever more terrible killer-forms - the Dominatrix Primes, the Alpha Tyrants, the Stealth-Slayer Lictors, even the dreaded Psychovores. And in defence the Orks had built more and more terrible machines, as more and more were drawn to the biggest fight in the galaxy, surpassing even the Third Armageddon War, which had, without the presence of the Warlord Ghazghkull quieted down into a state of mere war. As Abaddon's hosts fought and slew each other in the anarchic territories of Obscurus, even as Lorgar howled his triumph upon San Leor, the Orks of Octarius, now directed by Ghazghkull, self-proclaimed Prophet of Gork and Mork, fought endlessly upon Octarius and its surrounding worlds against the Hive Fleet and its tendrils.
The Emperor made a decree, "OK, NO MATTER HOW BAD THE THREAT OF THE TYRANIDS GET WE DO NOT USE KRYPTMAN'S GAMBIT." No one in the room disagreed with him. None of the Primarchs wanted to encounter these horrible things born of this war. Not even Angron, and for once the butcher nails did not punish him for those thoughts.
Meanwhile, on the fringes of the galaxy, curious events were occurring. Rumours spread of entire tendril-fleets of the Tyranid Hive being obliterated by bizarre crescent-shaped ships with strange markings upon them. Rumours spread of whole worlds covered in eldritch super-scientific technologies. Had the Imperium still survived, this would have been seen as the hand of the unliving Necrons. But the Imperium had been torn asunder - while order still reigned somewhat tentatively in Ultima and Tempestus (although rule was spread amongst many Imperial successors), Obscurus was lost and Solar was a hive of anarchy that was threatened by the legions of the Holy Tyrant. And so the rumours went unadknowledged and un-acted upon, for the Imperial Navy had been reduced to void-clans and scavenger-fleets.
Again, the room quaked with unease. None but the tech priest could really feel fear, but they could still feel wary. Two things that struck wariness into the God like beings who ruled the Imperium, and those were the twin threats of the Necrons and thee Tyranids.
And so it was in Octarius that the Silent King played his hand. He was Lord of the Necrontyr, and he knew especially of the threat of the Tyranids. A millennium he had spent on his plan - and now was the time to set it into motion. At Seidon's stasis-docks, he put a new master program into place - one that returned control to his personal fleet. To the Necrontyr homeworld he moved, a rogue planet near the core of the galaxy, long tectonically inactive, its star's light long guttered out. And he created it anew. It was hollowed out, and a tiny, infinitesimal fragment of a star's core placed within, to power the weapons he was going to place upon it. Arc-lightning cannons the size of cities, along with more arcane weapons, gauss-beamers and particle-blasters capable of scouring worlds. A legion of his royal guard was placed upon it. Its purpose was simple - war.
The sight of the war world was awe inspiring.
The Silent King's war-world was completed in six months, a planet converted to be an engine of destruction, a weapon of war against the Tyranids. It appeared in Octarius in 770.M41, and unleashed Hell upon Leviathan. The Necrons acted methodically on the surface, purging the synapse-creatures of the Tyranid host first amongst all the others. Weapons not seen since the War in Heaven devoured whole star systems infected by their taint in black holes. Hive Fleet Leviathan threw all its bio-mass at the Necrons, but against such powerful weapons their victory was impossible. It was wiped out in little under two years. The galaxy wondered, but the Silent King had work to do. He led his war-fleet into the vast gulfs of intergalactic space, to hold an undying vigil and hunt down the Tyranid fleets before they reached this galaxy. It was all the Silent King could do to forgive himself for what he had done to his race.
The Emperor felt a pang of sympathy for the Silent King, and the Tech Priest muttered something about Behemoth and Leviathan dueling as the end times begin. On the forsaken tomb-world of C'zall, the Infinite maintained his collection. Artefacts from across the ages - the last living spirit-stone of a long-dead Farseer, the corpse of Roboute Guilliman recently-acquired, an ornate power-weapon from Talassar - and a giant of a man held in stasis, clad in white, gold-trimmed, baroque power-armour. He lived still, yet not in the minds of the galaxy's inhabitants. Not like his Brothers. They were remembered - but they had also fallen, most of them. All save one, who lived and fought still. It is not known what attracted the Eldar harlequins to that benighted world, home of Trazyn the Infinite. What is known is that they came as a war-host. The Solitaire, the Death Jesters, the Great Harlequins all assailed this world. And they were assisted, by Space Marines clad in dark-blue, green-trimmed power armour, bearing a curious emblem not unlike the letter 'A'. The Alpha Legion, who had aided Abaddon's Fourteenth Crusade and then, some claim, suddenly acted to tear it apart.
Roboute looked sick, which was a logical response to seeing your own corpse put on display in a museum. But the room fell silent as they saw the second primarch.
They fought their way through to the deepest catacombs, where they recovered a cube of black stone the size of a man's fist. It would be vital if their plan was to have effect. And they shattered the stasis-field around the baroque-armoured man. 'Come,' they said. 'Follow us, into the Labyrinth'. He followed, more out of confusion than anything else, into the Webway, the Labyrinth Dimension of the Eldar. Greatly had it decayed - yet there were still paths to everywhere in the galaxy, if one but looked. Led by a Harlequin, they navigated the dangerous passages of the Labyrinth, through temporal anomalies and tribes of long-lost degenerates, through spatial impossibilities and insane geometries. They saw glimpses - Terra being besieged by the Warmaster so long ago, battles of ages long-past - for the Web ran not only through space, but through time as well. They saw the Emperor's gene-forges where he had made his Primarchs and the Thunder-Warriors, glimpses of possible futures and of aborted timelines.
The Emperor's eyes widened at this revelation. He hadn't truly realized that the Webway could be used for time travel. He would have to increase the strength of the Wards upon the Webway project even more. 'What is the purpose of this?' the giant asked as they navigated labyrinths of inertia and possibility. 'It is the Third, your brother,' the Harlequin explained. 'Long have we waited to set this plan in motion. Though his body has been taken and his soul trapped, we are not without hope.'
Then, they explained.
Fulgrim was surprised and he noted, "There talking about me." 'We have seen that there is no other way for all life to endure the coming storm. We are leading you to the world named after the great battle at the end of all things; to the space and the time where we can recover the Third. Trust us.' And so they continued, to Armageddon at the culmination of the Fourth War for that woe-struck world.
'Why?'
As the video ended, the Tech Priest snarked, "That place cant seem to catch a break."