Disclaimer: This is just a fanfiction of an cross over between Overlord (the anime and light novel) and the Warhammer 40k verses. I will take any feed back in the review section so please keep it civil
Author note: there will not be any bullshit overlord game magic or skill system or lv system in this story, i don't want to see my oshi get curve stomp in the 40k universe. Also no table top 40k mechanic. I will try to use my writing to the fullest making fight screen their will be some next chapter so see if you like it or not
As Momonga sits on the throne he looks up at all the flags hanging in line with the wall of the throne room. Each represents a symbol of 41 guild members of Aizn own gown. Letting his mind wander Momonga started to reminisce about the past, to the time before the war in heaven.
Much could be said about his early life, the necrontyr race was a race that could be summarized as weak, not in mind but in body. The homeworld of our race is what could call a dead world, radiation covers the surface of the world making us retreat to the underground. Upon learning about the world of his ancestor, Momonga has always pondered how life can even evolve from such a place.
How can our race not evolve to adapt to the hellish environment of our home, the simplest explanation is that the planet is not in that state at the beginning, but we're made that way during our time there.
United in desperation to heal ourselves, we necrontyr traverse the star, slowly our present wash over the galaxy. And during our time of travel, we encounter the old one, a race of god-like beings so technologically advanced they can instantly travel the universe and create new species effortlessly. Begging them to help us with our plight, yet they do not care. One would assume that we should just find another way to save ourselves and not wage a war on a galactic scale against a god-like race of beings.
.
.
.
I do not know why our ancestors chose to go to war, but such action lead to a resounding defeat that needlessly divided our race once again.
Maybe they wish to just end it all, and try to imprint our race's resiliency upon our foe, to make a mark upon the galaxy. But such ambition come to a resounding end, we were pushed back until we are nothing more than an irritation to the old one dominance.
A second war of secession begins, the dynasties that want to end their unwinnable war and the ruling Triach. The war is more widespread and ruinous than ever before, dynasties fracture and divided, and the only silver lining is that the old one does not incline to wipe us out for we are doing so ourselves.
In this time of uncertainty, far away from the battlefield. I was born, at the edge of the empire far from the devastation of the war of secession, but life is hard in it own way here. The Aeldary, a race created by the Old One to fight on their behalf, frequently raids our planetary system. By not being part of any empire and just a collection of refugees who escape the war, this system does not have much in terms of defense.
Being ravaged by the raider, and in addition by our own body causes despair to emerge.
To us necron our tenacity is our greatest and most notable strength, yet in the face of such despair it has been shattered.
Back then I have no more family to be with for a long time no more drive. Torment by life, and currently being hunted by the aeldary raider, they have caught up and are now in the process of chanting some sort of lyric. Surely such chants were unnecessary for they are holding up their sword preparing to swing down. Sitting there I waited for quite a while, is this some type of torture, letting their prey ease up by their chant and then end them, it would have worked if I have not been annoyed by them. Until an emerald slash of a hyper-phase sword save my life, stood upon my pursuer, wearing a suit of power armor where 'touch me'.
For the longest time, I have in my heart criticized his parent for naming him like such, does they not think having such a name would impact their child's early life?
It would occur to me that 'Touch me' were not his real name but a name he gives himself as a taunt to his opponent, but such realization comes much later for all of the time of our friendship.
It has come not a surprise that I'm not the only person who 'touch me' save, for he has been doing so quite several times. For every person rescue our group grow larger, and with a larger force a guild specializing in search and rescue was created.
Many talented individuals gather, from perverted shooters, genius weapon smiths, obsessive chemical experts to even dam lucky teachers. Together we created aizn own gown, though we all have different goals in life, what united us is the drive to save necron life in this outer rim section of our great empire.
But such purpose proved to be much easier to said than done, for our aeldary raider is much more powerful despite their number might make to believe.
A great scheme is conceived, for what reason do the aeldary raid us, their force does not lack any resources for they do not depend on much of science but focus more on the might of the immaterium to conjure equipment to even nourishment.
No, their goal is much simpler. It is for entertainment, our race was hunted down just for their entertainment. Such a conclusion comes as a great shock, but it does give us much-needed tactics.
Our enemies are cowards, cowards who take joy in tormenting the weak. They are strong very much strong, but their weakness is in their mind. For such an adversary, a direct combat is not advised, guerrilla warfare is not an option due to the nature of the inmaterium, the perfect counter is to scare them away.
The guild must be infamous, we must be villains. The idea is opposed by many members, yet they ultimately come to accept it, even 'touch me' a man of exceptional moral standing agrees to it. For Villains do not have enemies.
But such an agreement come with compromise, a guild leader must be picked to negotiate between opposing guild member. I was nominated for such a role non disagree with my selection, non but my own.
Thinking back it makes my nonexistent stomach ache with stress.
The great scheme work, to much disbelief. Most members don't know how such plans work after all others have failed, only a few know why and what monstrous deed is required for it to work.
But what is done is finished, now the rebuilding can begin. During the great scheme, our guild has gathered much attention from foes and friends alike. Force upon force joined until a small dynasty was formed at the time the great scheme ended uniting the sector.
Our guild is at a loss, but with the determination to see our hard work bear fruit, and the worrying possibility of the aeldary returned. We decided to undergo body modification to extend our life, but it does not ease our genetic cancer.
We each held a high position in this newly created dynasty shaping it for the future to come.
Finally after much, the day when our dynasty could stand on its own has come. The great work of our guild has taken shape, and I can finally take time to build my very own little dynasty if it is not already too late that is.
As I was working on a successor, a transmission was received directly from the triach. It seems that we have discovered a way to cure us of our cancers body,
the c'tan after obtaining physical body have decided to save us from our. At first I was very skeptical, and after discussing with the other member we decided to wait and see, but such luxury is not allowed. The silent king has given his order 'obey or die' as I interpreted it as such. We can't fight a war with him, we do not have the strength not the support for such action, and so we reluctantly agree.
Detailed instructions are given, we necron will replace our flesh body with a new one made with necrodermis a living metal. Some younger members have already prepared such bodies beforehand by my order, they will be the pillars to support our dynasty for the war to come. Of what knowledge of the c'tan that I obtain, another war with the old one is of a high possibility.
The day has come, our chest filled with dredd as a giant c'tan god appears from the sky carrying an equally large furnace. Every member of the necron race in the space sector is ordered to accept bio-transference.
It appears that the process has worked our necron race has finally escaped from the curse of our bodies. Not knowing the tragedy to come we have a brief moment enjoying our new body.
The day went by like normal, bureaucratic work now does not seem to stress me out as much anymore. Until one day I realized our citizenry is doing everything exactly like the day before, every action and every step is exactly repeated day after day. It seems that all but the most strong-willed, and those with the bodies advanced enough have lost their ability to think for themself.
Never have I been more thankful for the soul-grinding bureaucratic work than now. But I was not alone in this predicament, all of the 41 members of our guild also retain their self-awareness thanks to their long life of hardship or to their advanced robotics bodies.
The same could not be said for their family, I could not come to know the experience of watching your loved one slowly but surely losing their sense of self right before your eye.
Cursing the c'tan that did this to us, it appears above the sky, it like our collected anger become a beacon to attract the creature. Expecting a frontal assault, we utilize all available weapons to confront the creature. Only to be met with a bored gesture. We can only stand there as the creature processed to devour our citizenry souls that are barely clinging to their robotic hull.
The next action it took is to give us the order of war, by the treaty with the silent king he was to lead us with the cooperation of the c'tan to continue our war with the old one.
