2 Years Later, Necrontyr Homeworld.
"And that is our hope. Honorable Triarch." Mephet'ran spoke.
Mephet'ran no longer was in the natural C'tan energy state as he was before. Instead, he now stood in a tall 6-7 meter humanoid body, perfected from the prototype body given to the Old Ones a few years ago. Its skin was entirely composed of green shimmering necrodermis. He had 4 spider-like legs that extended out from his back and curled around his head and shoulders like a claw.
Behind him, stood a small group of other C'tans: Hsiagn'la, Emberresh, Kalugura, Llandu'gor, N'phoran, Nyadra'zatha, Og'driada, Thyssak'lha, Tsara'noga, Yggra'nya, Zarhulash, Zul'channec, Mag'ladroth, Iash'uddra, Aza'gorod, and three others.
Each of them now had a necrodermis-shaped metal body to contain them, standing anywhere from a minimum of 5 meters to a maximum size of 80 meters in size. The amount of sheer pressure the triarch were facing in this room alone, would collapse any lesser lifeform in the universe.
Each C'tan was unique as was their right to be. Some of them were constantly burning with orange flames like Emberresh, who filled the room with the brightness of a small sun. And some were like the endless night, where shadows seemed to seem from their very being like Aza'gorod. If someone were to call them each a unique god of the material universe, they would certainly match that description from their powers alone.
Each C'tan was powerful in their own right with certain shared manipulation of the energy of the Materium, but some of them had unique abilities others did not. For example, Mephet'ran could warp reality in a small area that was not carried among the rest of his kin. Or even Mag'ladroth and his unparalleled authority over any technology and energy of the Materium. These beings were perhaps the most dangerous entities of the universe; with the ability to reshape an entire planet at their wimps.
With their perfected C'tan bodies, they were able to influence the Materium to a much higher efficiency.
Silent King Szarekh looked at all this before him and felt awe in the deepest parts of his being. A rising sense of laughter almost rang out of his throat, despite tradition keeping him silent among the three of his ruling Phareons. His people had truly benefitted from these gods. And yes, he would call these beings what they were; gods. For they held powers that no mortal or creature ever could.
He once watched Yggra'nya, The World Shaper, break apart a planet the Necrontyr had abandoned from the Old One's war and reshape it into an efficient and organized metallic city within a few minutes. And this was merely the thoughts of one of the middle-ranked gods among the rest of them.
And now, after two years, Mephet'ran had come before him, a mortal empire to thank the Necrontyr for their generosity in providing bodies for him and his kin gods. They had gifted the Necrontyr with technology. Nyadra'zatha, the Burning One, had created a technology to access the Webway of the Old Ones through the Materium. It was hoped that with the addition of this technology, the Necrontyr could help the C'tan fight against their 'most horrible' enemies, the Old Ones.
'The Dolmen Gate.' Szarekh thought with excitement as he stepped around the small coffin-like access panel, which would open a doorway into the Webway of their enemy.
"King," Iash'uddra said, its voice like a thousand overlapping voices being offkey.
Szarekh shuddered at its voice. No matter who heard Iash'uddra speak, they would only end up hearing their voice in an offkey manner. It was said that Iash'uddra could see and hear through the senses of all those it had met, causing many who met this god to feel uncomfortable.
Mephet'ran waved his hand to dismiss Iash'uddra from talking and spoke in its stead.
"Ruling Triarch of the Necrontyr, my kin and I have been working on a gift beyond this all that we hoped you would not refuse," Mephet'ran said.
"We hoped that you could form a pact with us and promise us something in return for our gift." Mephet'ran continued, solemnly.
'A pact?' Szarekh questioned too himself.
"We will grant you and the race of the Necrontyr who helped us the Immortality you so yearn for," Mephet'ran explained as Szarekh and the rest of the Triarch held their breaths.
"In return, we ask that you serve us in wiping out the Old Ones, our old enemies, from the universe." Mephet'ran finished.
'Yes!' The three Triarch Phaerons thought in unison.
Their plan to divert the attention of the C'tan to their lost memories had worked like a charm. And now they would benefit from their deception with this win-win situation. And yet, just to be sure, they asked Mephet'ran their reasoning.
"The Old Ones are our enemy," Mephet'ran stated bluntly.
...
Halls of Gorthan, Great Counsel High Seats.
"I promise, as the 5th High Seat, I will bring our people glory far more than ever before. " Weklor spoke passionately before the crowds in the psychic chamber.
All the peoples of the Old One empire could hear his promise and voice, appearing in this room during their dreams. He had finally achieved a worthy dream of his, implementing the High Seats, position within the Great Counsel. It was a power shift that had not been seen before, causing a large change in the functions of the Great Counsel. Now, 7 Elected High seats among the Great Counsel will hold executive authority over subsections of the empire. They were equivalent to the architects of an entire people spanning several sectors of habitable space.
Since the killing of the Great Spirit, the Old Ones had begun to advance fast and faster in the fields of Warpcraft. Arlow's laboratory dimension, Pandemonium, was also discovered and his research was being further absorbed by the Old Ones. Weklor was very pleased and he was often thanked by other members of the Council of Trent for 'doing what needed to be done'. If he was given a choice, he would make the same decision again. Perhaps the only lose end now would end, after his teacher Slagar gave up his search for answers.
More chapters on my pat reon:
pat reon/ MatheuDeWitt