The Gallery of Solemnity, Tomb World of Solemnace
Trazyn the Infinite had seen many things in his eons of existence, but nothing quite prepared him for the cosmic storm that stepped unannounced into his prized Gallery of Solemnity. Nyth, clad in his star-black suit and fedora, exuded a calm menace as he strolled through the halls of the Necron collector's vault, cigar smoke trailing behind him like a comet's tail.
Trazyn, perched atop his floating dais, was initially startled by the appearance of the being he had only heard whispers of—a self-proclaimed cosmic mobster who casually defied reality. The Necron Overlord recovered quickly, adopting his usual air of smug superiority. "Ah, Nyth," Trazyn drawled, his metallic voice echoing through the grand chamber. "To what do I owe this… intrusion?"
Nyth tipped his hat, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Intrusion? Now that's a harsh word. I like to think of it as… browsing." He paused to examine a stasis field containing an Eldar craftworld's heartstone, flicking the cigar ash onto the floor. "You got quite the collection here, Trazzy. But I reckon you're missin' a little soul."
Trazyn's optics flared. "You dare desecrate my gallery? I should have you entombed in the deepest labyrinth for eternity!"
Nyth let out a chuckle, pulling Devi from his shoulder. The bat hummed with energy as its shards glittered. "Try me, shiny. I've been bored lately; a good ol' game of cosmic cat and mouse sounds fun."
Trazyn, never one to take an insult lying down, activated the gallery's first line of defense: a phalanx of stasis-locked warriors sprang to life, their gauss weapons glowing ominously. The air hummed with static as dozens of Necron Immortals marched toward Nyth.
"Cute," Nyth remarked, casually swinging Devi like a baseball player warming up. "Y'all really don't do subtlety, huh?"
The first wave opened fire, neon-green beams slicing through the air. Nyth, unimpressed, flicked his cigar toward the nearest Immortal. The embers erupted into a starburst of energy, vaporizing the front line in a blink. With a grin, Nyth charged into the fray, Devi cracking skulls and shattering weapons with every swing.
In the chaos, Laby King materialized, bounding through the ranks with jaws that seemed to devour not just metal but the faint echoes of whatever passed for Necron souls. The dog's low growl sent ripples of fear through the machine minds, forcing the once-unstoppable soldiers to falter.
Meanwhile, Genesis appeared in the central hall, tires screeching as it transformed into its war-machine form. The Cadillac roared, its cosmic cannons obliterating waves of Necron constructs with precision strikes. Trazyn watched, his irritation growing with every passing second.
"Is that all you've got, Trazzy?" Nyth called, flipping Devi over his shoulder. "This place's security is weaker than a drunk Ork's aim."
Not one to give up, Trazyn activated his trump card—a series of Tesseract Labyrinths designed to entrap even the most powerful entities. The halls twisted and shifted, folding in on themselves as Nyth and his crew were surrounded by glowing cubes that pulsated with malevolent energy.
"Ah, now this is interestin'," Nyth mused, studying the labyrinths as they closed in. "A pocket dimension within a pocket dimension? Creative."
Trazyn's voice boomed over the gallery's intercoms. "You may be clever, but you've underestimated my mastery of containment. You will not leave here with ever again."
Nyth snapped his fingers, and the labyrinths froze mid-motion. With a casual wave of his hand, he compressed the glowing cubes into two, glittering die, which he rolled across the floor. Bothstopped on one , and Nyth grinned.
"Snake eyes," he said, catching the die and pocketing it. "Guess I'm the one collectin' now."
Trazyn's indignation was palpable. "You insolent—"
"Relax, Trazzy. You'll get over it." Nyth turned to Laby King. "Fetch."
The dog launched itself toward Trazyn's dais, jaws snapping around the Overlord's staff of office. Trazyn yelped as he was pulled to the ground, his regal composure shattered.
With the defenses in ruins and Trazyn metaphorically (and somewhat literally) disarmed, Nyth strolled toward the most secure section of the gallery. Inside, he found a display of artifacts that shimmered with otherworldly power: a fragment of the Nightbringer's blade, an Eldar spirit gem containing a phoenix lord, and a stasis pod holding an ancient Terra relic—a golden mask rumored to belong to the Emperor himself.
"Decisions, decisions," Nyth said, stroking his chin. "Guess I'll take 'em all. Don't worry, Trazzy—I'll leave you the satisfaction of knowin' they're bein' appreciated."
As Nyth snapped his fingers to summon his crew and artifacts into a pocket dimension, Trazyn scrambled to his feet. "You will regret this, Nyth. Mark my words!"
"Oh, I'm shakin'," Nyth replied with a laugh, lighting a fresh cigar. "Tell ya what, I'll swing by again when you've got somethin' new worth stealin'. Until then, enjoy the rebuild."
With that, Nyth and his crew vanished, leaving Trazyn in the ruins of his once-pristine gallery, fuming and vowing vengeance.