Getting Warhammered [WH 40k Fanfic]

I was being watched, I could feel it in my bones, in inexplicable tension that tightened in my shoulders, in the strange chill that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. 

That by itself wasn’t worrying; I was used to being watched, to being observed. What concerned me was that I couldn’t for the love of me find out how or from where I was being watched. There were no cameras, no sneaky Canoptek Spyders, Wraiths or other such Necron constructs. The last group of regular Necron warriors lay at my feet in a pile of scrap metal, all of them thoroughly destroyed to make absolutely sure they had no more sensors that someone could use to watch me. 

Honestly, it wasn’t that surprising. Technology was probably a weakness of mine, from a certain perspective. I couldn’t sense the energy Necrons used to fuel their gadgets as clearly as I could perceive Warp energy. I didn’t even know what to look for, and even if I found it, I had no clue how to deduce the tech’s purpose. I knew some basic stuff about Necron tech, but far from enough to find whatever went beyond top-of-the-line spyware and intelligence-gathering technology. Hell, I couldn’t even stop them from doing that annoying Phase Out trick of theirs. Yet. 

I paused, blinking slowly as that thought churned in my head. “That’s it, isn’t it? Extra dimensions. Their phase technology makes use of pocket spaces and extra purely physical dimensions untouched by the Warp. Whatever is watching me, it’s using one of those to hide the tech … or maybe they are there themselves, hiding in a pocket space. Hmmmm- Deathmarks, of- fucking -course! How could I forget about Deathmarks?”

Elite Necron sniper assassins that could make use of pocket spaces to hide Phased Out in a space and observe their prey. They could also use some weird dimensional fuckery to teleport around. Other than that, they had one of the most sadistic and nasty weapons of all of Warhammer 40k: Synaptic Disintegrators.

Cue, technobabble I could remember from the wiki page I’ve read in my last life: ‘These cruel long-barrelled rifles fire compressed leptonic beams of sub-atomic particles which destroy neural and synaptic tissue. Beginning within the target’s brain and spreading in microseconds throughout their entire body, molecules unbond with one another, causing the luckless target to crumple limply to the ground as a puppet with its strings severed.’

Even if the first shot doesn’t kill you, even if it’s just a grazing shot that barely touches your skin, it will fry a part of your neural tissue — aka your brain — and tear apart your mind, leaving you as a vegetable. 

Luckily, I didn’t really need my brain to think anymore. It boosted my cognitive speed and processing capacity, and could house my mind with less ‘lag’, but in the end, it was non-essential. It was just a server farm supporting the main computer, my true mind, tied to my soul. 

Selene, though … she’d be fine. Probably. Hopefully. She had a black box too, and she should be able to both predict, dodge and tank a shot. Yeah, it was fine. 

But just to be sure I reached out with a thread of psychic power from my soul, reaching for Selene’s soul housed safely within my Realm and I wrapped her mind in a protective cocoon. 

“What?” She gave me a questioning look, sensing that I had just done something.

“Just a mind-shield, an extra layer of security,” I said. “Don’t worry. It should be fine either way, just don’t get hit.”

“Thank you,” Selene said, her voice tinged with wry amusement. “I will try to follow your enlightening advice.”

Right, ‘don’t get hit’ wasn’t exactly a groundbreaking new strategy. I added a clarification over our telepathic link, “We have a Deathmark on our tail. Even if you survive a hit from their weapon, you won’t enjoy it.”

“I don’t enjoy getting shot in general,” Selene said, though I could feel that she had taken me seriously. It was hard not to when she felt my own genuine worry for her well-being. “But I’ll be careful.”

I nodded, and we finally came upon one of the massive blast doors locking us into this section of the Necron building complex. This Hollow Sun was absolutely massive, just tunnels and hallways, and halls and corridors stacked on top of and next to each other endlessly. Alien machinery whirled in some of them, others stored things I could make no sense of, while most were empty and decidedly designed in a way to make for a perfect chokepoint to defend against an enemy force. Too bad they only had two small groups of Necron warriors try to make use of them to stop our advance so far.

Honestly, this place reminded me more of the Death Star from Star Wars than anything else, with the added Necron flair and their characteristic monolithic architecture. 

We slowed to a stop before the monolithic bulkhead that stood taller than some five-storey buildings and glimmered with the unmistakable greenish hue of a Necron force field. The cavernous hall we were in was a vast open space stretching in all directions for more than a hundred metres, with the ceiling even higher than the bulkhead’s top. 

My eyes snapped between the dozens of suspicious obelisk-like protrusions scattered across the wall surrounding the shut gateway, and then I narrowed my eyes as I felt the telltale tingle of gathering energy inside them. Yeah, those were immobile versions of the Necron Monoliths, which themselves were mobile fortresses outfitted with Particle Whips. 

At the same time that happened, space shuddered behind us in the corridor we’d come from, and then with a crackle of unliving green energy, an Eternity Gate opened up between two standing obelisks. Those constructs had looked like innocuous parts of the architecture before, looking for all intents and purposes like stylised pillars acting as doorframes for the corridor, but now they cracked with power. 

From the green portal that bloomed into existence, Necrons marched forth, their eyes burning with the same unliving green light behind their skeletal masks, but more worryingly, glimmering with a shred of true intelligence. Their metallic necrodermis frames also looked more elaborate and robust, able to withstand much more punishment and exert greater power before giving out.

“Immortals,” I hummed, Atiesh slamming into my open palm while the Storm Ward embedded into the chest of my armour near where my collarbones met thrummed with power. “I’ll handle the weapons batteries.”

Selene sent a note of acknowledgement through our link before snapping into a dead sprint in an instant. She moved so fast she might as well have teleported where a regular human was concerned, and she was in the midst of the marching formation of Immortals in a blink, her bonesword cleaving through three of them in a single swing. She’ll handle them just fine.

I tapped Atiesh on the ground, and the tiny clink of wood touching metal echoed strangely in the large open space. It should have gotten lost in the din of the battle taking place behind me, and yet it did not. It was like reality itself acknowledged its importance. For the moment, the staff made contact with the floor, and psychic power rippled forth. It rushed over the floor, leapt up the walls and reached the lowest pair of protruding monoliths just barely starting to glow in that eerie greenish hue of theirs. 

The psychic force that struck the monolith was a composite spell: technomancy to seek out its weakest points and tear into it with electromagnetic force, then telekinesis for brute physical force, and a bit of pyromancy, because even if all else failed, turning the construct into molten slag would likely prevail. I’ve come up with this trick for a moment like this, a time when I had to dismantle some advanced piece of extremely lethal technology aimed at me. I hadn’t spent the last few weeks travelling between planets just lazing about or cuddling with Selene, after all — no matter how much I would have loved to.

I watched as the technopathic pulse swept through the structure, not finding so much as a crack. It didn’t matter, though, as this monolith had a much weaker force field to protect it than the Tomb Ship or even lesser Necron ships. The telekinetic force slammed into it, tearing through the fragile shield and then ripping the entire monolith off the wall, sending it crashing into the floor dozens of metres away. 

The ripple spread and crawled further up the wall, tearing through monolith after monolith in just a second. Not a single one of them had the time to fully power up, being torn away from their power lines before their Particle Whips could fire. Sure, these weren’t the starship-grade designs but miniaturised versions of the mobile weapons platforms that were Monoliths, but they’d still have been an absolute pain to be hit by. 

And now they are scrap. I hummed, spinning back around, ignoring the colossal wall behind me that now sported a dozen gaping craters crackling with green energy where the monoliths used to be.

Selene was still tearing through the veritable legion of Immortals, dashing around among the now spread-out crowd of Necrons while they fired at her relentlessly. The characteristic low thrum of Gauss weapons firing in tandem filled the cavernous hall, the green light of their snapping energy beams illuminating the gloomy space and casting hundreds of crawling shadows. 

It looked like a ferocious fight where both sides fought with everything they had, putting their lives on the line to murder their opponent. A small army against a single woman who was an army unto herself. It didn’t make sense that they’d be evenly matched … and they weren’t. I knew Selene was just playing with them, or rather, studying her opponents. She did say that she had barely any experience fighting against Necrons, so maybe I should have expected this.

My eyes narrowed as I felt a strange film of energy wrap around her body. It wasn’t psychic in nature, not born of the Warp at all, and yet it was so subtle I might not have noticed it had I not been paying so much attention. A moment later, a similar film tried to wrap around me as well, but an omnidirectional blast of soul energy tore it to shreds. 

Deathmark. I thought, my senses sharpening as I forced them into overdrive by pouring copious amounts of bio-energy into the associated organs. That must have been a Deathmark marking us for death. If it had stuck, the assassin would have been able to track me and see me through all obstacles for an hour, no matter how far I escaped and what I put between it and myself. 

I tapped Atiesh on the ground and tore apart the ‘mark’ sticking to Selene as well, and-

I reacted in an instant, the ground cratering beneath my feet as I kicked off and launched myself into the air. I crossed a hundred metres to the top of a pillar holding up the distant ceiling in a mere moment, my staff ripping through the air and making contact with the metallic head emerging from a green portal. 

I saw the single ocular on its skeletal face mask widen, then shatter as Atiesh crashed into its faceplate, delivering enough telekinetic force to level a city block straight into its head. Predictably, the Necron was torn to shreds, and its weird pocket space portal vanished, taking the better part of its body with it to who knows where. 

How did the saying go? If you have the misfortune to catch a glimpse of a Deathmark, then there are five more currently lining up shots to kill you. My lips peeled back, my pearly white teeth glimmering in the low light in an expression only a madman would call a smile. Well, time to play some high-stress whack-a-mole with some of the galaxy’s best assassins.

******

Ozkan the Codifier, highest ranking Cryptek of the Suhbekhar Dynasty and once the most trusted confidant of the Phareon Ahmontekh, stood stock still in his secret laboratory deep within the bowels of the Hollow Sun. 

He had thought he would have a bit more time just for himself without that overbearing Regent taking up his precious time with inane tasks better left for lesser minds. He needed peace and time for his research, but with the Regent hurrying him to personally help with the awakening protocols to speed up the process, he had only stolen moments and, at most, a few hours or days at a time.

All around him were cells, numerous specimens fit for research locked behind semi-transparent green energy shields. Most were alive, some were not, but those latter ones were tied down to operating tables waiting for dissection, currently locked under a stasis field to stop them from decaying. Flesh and blood bodies rotted away in a blink if one wasn’t careful. It was an annoyance to be sure, but not one he couldn’t work around. 

His single eye turned to stare down at the wretched creature fixed to the operating table before him. Bands of green energy wrapped around the creature’s limbs, its waist and its mouth. This one was promising to be yet another disappointment, this ‘human’, but Ozkan was thorough if nothing else. He wouldn’t dismiss an examination process halfway through just because he suspected the final results. He may stumble upon something interesting. 

Alas, this time was different. Something much more interesting was waiting for his attention, so he waved a clawed metallic hand over the struggling creature. A wave of chronomancy washed over its body, freezing it in place and locking it in that single moment where its torso was cut open and bloodshot eyes glared up at him in hatred, pain and fear. 

He turned his attention back to the ocular feed he’d hijacked. Every Necron he personally awoke, or bound to the Regent, he maintained a link to that allowed him to tap into their memory cortexes and their sensor logs. Now, he swiftly devoured dozens of visual logs of Immortals, Deathmarks and even Lychguard chasing around a single strange creature for hours on end. 

Ozkan tilted his head despite himself, the dreadfully disappointing research specimens in his lab forgotten as he analysed this strange creature that ran circles around some of the best the Necron had. It was fast, faster than an Overlord, its reflexes rivalled that of a Lychguard and its power, that was … respectable as well. 

His prodigious mind ran through analytical algorithms, then ran simulation after simulation. In his mind, a simulacra of this creature fought dozens of different Lychguard, Overlords and Crypteks he had adequate data on. It performed adequately, better than anything he had run through those same simulations before. Better than even his previous prime specimen: an ‘Adeptus Astartes’. 

The thing holding his research back the most was the fact that he had no access to live Astartes, only dead ones, and dissecting a corpse could only tell him so much. He needed a live specimen to be certain of his conclusion. 

That only a body equal to, or superior to, a Necron Overlord’s body of unliving metal could ever hope to house their minds. Out of every specimen he’d examined so far, only an Astartes’ body might have sufficed, but this creature … This was even better. 

It might be worthy of becoming the vessel of the Phareon. Once the Crimson Scythe is free of his prison of metal, he shall rise once more as the Lord of the Suhbekhar and depose this aggravating Ahhotekh. Then, the galaxy will learn to fear the name of our Dynasty once more, and I will have a proper Lord to serve after so dreadfully long instead of this imbecile. 

He simply had to capture that creature alive. It could change everything. It was this accursed metallic shell that drove the Phareon mad, but once he had a mortal body of flesh and blood, he would surely recover his mental faculties in a timely manner. He had to, or all would be lost.