An Interdimensional Incursion

In the cold void of the Halo Stars, at the very edge of the Segmentum Obscurus, an Explorator fleet of the Adeptus Mechanicus pushed ever outward. It was the late 30th Millennium, a time when the Imperium of Man was still young and filled with the hubris of its early conquests. Unknown to them, their actions would set in motion events that would threaten not just the Imperium, but the very fabric of reality itself.

Magos Explorator Xephon Vex stood on the bridge of the Omnissiah's Revelation, his mechadendrites twitching with anticipation. For decades, he had led this expedition into the unknown reaches of space, searching for the remnants of humanity's lost golden age. But what they had found here, in this forgotten corner of the galaxy, was beyond anything they could have imagined.

"Magos," one of his tech-priests called out, "we're detecting anomalous energy readings from the celestial body ahead."

Xephon's augmetic eyes whirred as they focused on the hololith display. Before them hung what appeared to be a vast structure, seemingly spun from dust and magnetism. It defied all known laws of physics, its very existence an affront to the natural order.

"The Omnissiah has blessed us," Xephon intoned, his vox-caster barely containing his excitement. "We have found it. The Echoing Vault."

For years, whispers had circulated through the highest echelons of the Mechanicus about an artifact of immense power, hidden somewhere in the depths of space. Some claimed it was a remnant of the Dark Age of Technology, others that it predated humanity itself. Whatever its origin, Xephon was determined to unlock its secrets.

As the fleet drew closer, the Vault's influence began to manifest. Crew members reported hearing whispers in empty corridors, seeing shadows move in their peripheral vision. Xephon dismissed these reports as the product of superstitious minds, unworthy of the Omnissiah's chosen.

"Prepare the landing party," he commanded. "We shall be the first to set foot in this divine construct."

On the Echoing Vault, Xephon led his team through twisting corridors that seemed to defy euclidean geometry. The walls pulsed with an inner light, and strange symbols danced across surfaces that were neither solid nor ephemeral.

"Magos," one of his adepts called out, her voice tinged with fear, "these readings... they're unlike anything in our databases. Perhaps we should exercise caution."

Xephon turned, his mechadendrites flaring with irritation. "Caution? We stand on the threshold of the greatest discovery since the Emperor being the Omnissiah! There is no room for caution here."

As they pressed deeper into the Vault's depths, the whispers grew louder, more insistent. Xephon felt his mind expanding, touching realms of knowledge previously unimaginable. In his hubris, he mistook this violation for enlightenment.

At the heart of the Vault, they found a chamber vast beyond comprehension. At its center stood a pillar of writhing energy, neither light nor darkness, but something in between. Symbols orbit the pillar, each one a key to unlock the barriers between dimensions.

"At last," Xephon breathed, approaching the pillar with reverence. "The Omnissiah's greatest gift to us. With this power, we shall elevate the Imperium to heights undreamed of."

His mechadendrites reached out, interfacing with the alien technology. As he did so, a scream tore through reality itself. The pillar flared, and for a moment, Xephon saw beyond the veil of existence. He saw the Harrowing.

In that instant, he realized the magnitude of his error. But it was too late. The seals, weakened by millennia of neglect, shattered under his touch. The Vault began to echo with the sounds of things that should not be, creatures of such abhorrent terror that merely perceiving them was enough to shatter a mind.

"What have we done?" one of the adepts cried out, her sanity already fraying at the edges.

Xephon, his mind reeling from the contact, could only watch in horror as the first of the Harrowing began to materialize in the chamber. They were beings of impossible geometry, their very presence a violation of the laws of physics. Where they passed, reality itself seemed to warp and twist.

"Fall back!" Xephon commanded, but his words were drowned out by the cacophony of the Vault coming to life. The team fled through corridors that now seemed alive with malevolent intent, the walls themselves reaching out to grasp at them with tendrils of unreality.

As they reached their ships, Xephon looked back at the Vault. It was no longer the structure of dust and magnetism they had first encountered. Now it pulsed with an inner light, a beacon calling out to horrors beyond comprehension.

"We must warn the Imperium," Xephon said, his voice hollow with the weight of his failure. But even as the words left his vox-caster, he knew it would not be enough. They had unleashed something that the galaxy had not seen since the mythical War in Heaven, a force that could unravel the very fabric of existence.

As the Explorator fleet fled the Halo Stars, they left in their wake a nightmare given form. The Harrowing, freed from their aeons-long imprisonment, began to spread across the stars like a cancer. Worlds fell silent, their populations either slaughtered or driven to madness by mere proximity to these entities that defied the laws of nature.

-----------------------------

In the vast, cold expanse of the Halo Stars, the Throneworld of Tjet'amun stood as a testament to the enduring power of the Necrons. At its heart, within a chamber of living metal and pulsing energy fields, sat Phaeron Kha'resh Mek, the Godslayer. His form, an intricate fusion of technological mastery and C'tan power, emanated an aura of absolute authority. The Headdress upon his head, adorned with the essence of fallen C'tan, writhed with tendrils of shadow—black and white intertwining in a mesmerizing dance of stolen divinity.

Kha'resh's gaze swept over the holographic displays surrounding his throne, each one depicting the aftermath of the recent Imperial incursion. The wreckage of human vessels drifted silently in the void, a grim reminder of the zealotry that drove the Imperium to hurl itself against the impenetrable defenses of the Sahkar-Tet Dynasty. Even now, as the last echoes of battle faded, Kha'resh found himself pondering the tenacity of these short-lived beings.

The chamber's entrance irised open, admitting Imhotep the Architect. The Necron Overlord's body was a marvel of engineering, every movement precise and calculated. In his hand, he carried a data-slate that pulsed with an urgency that drew Kha'resh's immediate attention.

"My Phaeron," Imhotep intoned, his voice a symphony of harmonics. "I bring anomalous readings that require your immediate attention."

Kha'resh beckoned his advisor closer. "Speak, Imhotep. What have you discovered?"

The Architect's eyes flared with emerald light as he interfaced directly with the throne room's systems. The holographic displays shifted, now showing a cascading series of energy signatures that writhed and pulsed in patterns that defied conventional physics.

"Interdimensional incursions, my lord," Imhotep explained. "The fabric of reality itself is being strained in a manner I have not witnessed since the War in Heaven."

The mention of that ancient conflict stirred memories within Kha'resh's consciousness—memories of battles fought not just against the Old Ones and their creations, but against horrors from beyond the veil of reality. The C'tan had used the Necrons as their sword and shield, not only to wage war against their enemies but also to stem the tide of interdimensional invaders drawn to the carnage.

"It seems," Kha'resh mused, his voice resonating with the weight of eons, "that history threatens to repeat itself. Summon Nephthys the Silent and Sekhet the Void Weaver. We must address this threat before it grows beyond our control."

As Imhotep sent out the call, Kha'resh pondered the implications. The War in Heaven had nearly torn reality asunder, and now, millions of years later, the echoes of that conflict still reverberated through the cosmos. But what could have triggered such a disturbance?

The answer came as Nephthys and Sekhet arrived, their forms materializing from streams of energy. Nephthys, ever the master of stealth and intelligence, brought with her intercepted communications from Imperial channels.

"My Phaeron," Nephthys began, her voice barely above a whisper yet carrying clearly through the chamber, "we have uncovered the source of the disturbance. The humans, in their ignorance, have meddled with forces beyond their comprehension."

Sekhet, the master strategist of void warfare, added her own analysis. "It appears to be the work of their Adeptus Mechanicus. In their ceaseless quest for knowledge and technology, they have uncovered an artifact of immense power—one that predates even our own ascension."

Kha'resh's eyes narrowed, the green fire within them intensifying. "Elaborate," he commanded.

Nephthys projected a series of intercepted transmissions and fragmented data. "They call it the Echoing Vault, my lord. An artifact of unknown origin, discovered deep within the Halo Stars. Upon its activation, it unleashed entities that defy the laws of physics—creatures they have named 'The Harrowing.'"

Imhotep's analytical mind quickly processed the information. "These entities are causing severe casualties among Imperial forces. Reports indicate that proximity alone is enough to cause death or insanity among the humans."

Sekhet, ever focused on military implications, added, "The Imperium's forces are grossly unprepared for this threat. Their losses are catastrophic, and their defensive measures are proving ineffective."

Kha'resh rose from his throne, his form seeming to grow as he drew upon the stolen powers of the C'tan shards embedded in his crown. "The humans play with forces they cannot hope to control. Their ignorance threatens not just their own existence, but the stability of this galaxy—our galaxy."

The Phaeron's decision was swift and absolute. "We shall not stand idly by while reality itself is imperiled. Imhotep, begin analysis of these interdimensional signatures. Develop countermeasures based on our experiences during the War in Heaven."

"At once, my Phaeron," Imhotep acknowledged, his mind already racing with calculations and designs.

"Nephthys, I want every scrap of information about this Echoing Vault and the entities it has unleashed. Leave no transmission unintercepted, no database unprobed."

The silent assassin bowed deeply. "It shall be done, lord. The shadows will yield their secrets to me."

"Sekhet, prepare our forces for void combat against an enemy that defies conventional warfare. Your strategies must adapt to this new threat."

"A challenge worthy of the Sahkar-Tet Dynasty, my Phaeron. Our foes shall find only oblivion in the void," Sekhet declared, her tactical algorithms already formulating new battle plans.

As his advisors departed to carry out their tasks, Kha'resh turned his gaze to the stars visible through the chamber's grand viewport. The tendrils of shadow from his crown writhed with renewed vigor, as if sensing the coming conflict.

"Once again," he mused to himself, "the younger races stumble blindly into peril, leaving us to clean up their mess." His hand clenched into a fist, living metal creaking under the pressure. "But we are Necrons. We who have faced the Old Ones, who have bound gods to our will. We shall seal this breach, contain this Harrowing...and why am I not surprised it's the Stupid Red Robed Primitives trying to kill themselves once again"

-----------------

The planet Thet-Amun, once a verdant world on the eastern fringes of Sahkar-Tet territory, now writhed under the influence of the Harrowing. Reality anchors, Modified Necron Cruisers emitting energy signatures that restore the warped reality back into place, encircled the planet, containing the madness within and preventing its spread to neighboring systems. The sky above Thet-Amun roiled with impossible colors, a visual representation of physics gone awry.

From the bridge of his flagship, "Phaeron's Will," Kha'resh Mek observed the unfolding battle with ancient, calculating eyes. His form, resplendent in royal finery and crackling with stolen divine power, stood motionless as he processed the incoming data streams.

Below, on the surface of Thet-Amun, Sekhet's forces engaged the Harrowing in a conflict that defied conventional understanding of warfare. Legions of Necron warriors marched in perfect unison, their gauss flayers spitting emerald death at foes that seemed to shift and twist with every passing moment.

Sekhet himself hovered above the battlefield, his form a nexus of strategic calculations and void-born tactics. His voice, a deep, resonant tone that cut through the cacophony of battle, issued commands to his forces.

"Adjust gauss flayer frequencies to match the phase variance of the entities designated Alpha-7 through Omega-3," he intoned. "Tesla destructors, modulate your output to create reality-reinforcing fields in sectors 12 through 19."

As his orders were carried out, the effects were immediately visible. Harrowing entities that had previously seemed to shrug off Necron weaponry now shrieked in impossible voices as they were unmade by precisely calibrated energy beams.

Meanwhile, Nephthys the Silent ghosted through the chaos, her form barely visible even to the enhanced senses of her fellow Necrons. She observed, recorded, and analyzed every aspect of the Harrowing's manifestation and behavior.

In one moment, she witnessed a group of Harrowing entities merge into a singular mass of writhing tentacles and eyes, only to separate again into gaseous forms that defied the laws of thermodynamics. Nephthys's data-gathering subroutines worked overtime, correlating the observed phenomena with ancient records from the War in Heaven.

"Hypothesis," she whispered, her voice carrying across encrypted Necron communication channels. "The Harrowing exhibit properties consistent with fifth-dimensional intrusion into three-dimensional space-time. Recommend adjusting our phase shifters to account for hyperspatial overlap."

Nearby, Imhotep the Architect led a cadre of Crypteks in rapidly modifying their army's war machines. His fingers danced through holographic interfaces, rewriting core protocols and adjusting targeting parameters on the fly.

"Integrating Nephthys's findings," Imhotep announced. "Uploading new targeting matrices to all combat units. The Harrowing may violate the laws of physics, but they cannot escape the fundamental principles of mathematics."

As the updated protocols took effect, the Necron response became even more devastating. Gauss weapons that once fired linear beams now shot projectiles that curved in impossible arcs, striking Harrowing entities through dimensional folds. Tesla destructors crackled with energy that seemed to stabilize reality itself, creating bubbles of normal space-time that trapped and neutralized the invaders.

Yet for all their technological supremacy, the Necrons found themselves tested as never before. The Harrowing fought with a savagery and unpredictability that defied conventional tactics. Where Necron warriors fell, their self-repair protocols activated, only to be stymied by the reality-warping effects of their foes.

Kha'resh Mek, observing from above, saw the need for more direct intervention. "Initiate emergency mass recall," he commanded. "Redirect all damaged units to primary repair bays."

In flashes of green energy, fallen Necron warriors vanished from the battlefield, rematerializing within the vast repair facilities of nearby tomb ships. Here, armies of Canoptek constructs worked tirelessly, repairing and upgrading the warriors with countermeasures against the Harrowing's reality-bending powers.

Minutes later, these same warriors returned to the fray, their bodies now adorned with glyphs of dimensional stability and their weapons recalibrated to pierce the veil between realities.

As the battle raged on, Sekhet, Nephthys, and Imhotep convened in a secure strategic nexus, sharing their findings and refining their approach.

"The Harrowing defy conventional analysis," Sekhet began, his voice tinged with what might have been frustration in a being capable of such emotion. "Their tactics, if they can be called such, seem to be driven by a logic that operates outside our understanding of cause and effect."

Nephthys nodded, her form shimmering as she processed vast amounts of data. "I have observed entities that exist simultaneously in multiple states, and others that seem to precede their own actions. Time, for them, appears to be more of a suggestion than a constant."

Imhotep's eyes flared as he integrated this information into his models. "Then we must think beyond linear time. Our strategies must account for not just where and how the Harrowing will strike, but when, across multiple potential timelines."

As they spoke, holographic displays around them shifted and changed, showing the ongoing battle from myriad perspectives. In one sector, Necron Lychguards wielding hyperphase swords cut through reality itself, their blades leaving glowing tears in the fabric of space-time that sealed the Harrowing away from the material universe.

Elsewhere, Crypteks wove webs of living metal that seemed to stabilize the local laws of physics, creating safe zones where Necron forces could operate at peak efficiency.

But it was the Echoing Vault itself that drew the most intense scrutiny from the Necron leadership. Long-range sensors, operating on principles that blurred the line between science and sorcery, probed the vast structure that hung in space beyond Thet-Amun.

"The Vault defies our most advanced scanning techniques," Imhotep reported, his tone one of scientific fascination rather than frustration. "It appears to exist in a state of quantum superposition, simultaneously present in our reality and... elsewhere."

Sekhet's eyes narrowed as he studied the readouts. "It bears similarities to the dimensional engines we encountered during the War in Heaven. Could it be a creation of the Old Ones?"

"Unlikely," Nephthys interjected. "The psychic signatures do not match known Old One artifacts. This is something... older. Perhaps even predating the War in Heaven itself."

As they debated, a new data stream caught their attention. The Harrowing's attacks had taken on a new pattern, one that seemed to pulse in rhythm with energy emissions from the Echoing Vault.

"Correlation detected," Imhotep announced. "The Vault is not merely a point of ingress for the Harrowing. It appears to be directing them, coordinating their actions across vast distances and multiple dimensions."

This revelation sent shockwaves through the Necron command structure. If the Vault was indeed controlling the Harrowing, then destroying or sealing it could potentially end the invasion in one decisive stroke.

Kha'resh Mek's voice boomed through the strategic nexus, his words carrying the weight of eons. "Prepare a strike force. I shall assault the Echoing Vault itself."

The fabric of reality shuddered as Phaeron Kha'resh Mek materialized on the battlefield of Thet-Amun. His form, resplendent in obsidian armor etched with glyphs of power, seemed to drink in the very light around him. Three paces behind, as constant as the stars themselves, stood Nemesor Malakar the Immovable, his massive frame a bulwark against the tides of unreality that swept the planet. Surrounding them both, the Lychguard known as the Eternals took up their positions, their obsidian bodies adorned with golden fire that burned in their eyes, a mirror to their Phaeron's own terrible gaze.

As Kha'resh's feet touched the reality-warped ground of Thet-Amun, the very air seemed to recoil from his presence. With a gesture both elegant and terrifying, he raised his hand to the sky. His eyes, once dull gold, now blazed with an intensity that rivaled the death of stars. This was the Gaze of Death, a power stolen from the C'tan themselves, now wielded by one who had slain gods.

Where Kha'resh's gaze fell, the Harrowing withered. Entities that had moments before been twisting the very fabric of space-time now shriveled and dissipated, their impossible forms unable to withstand the annihilating power of the Phaeron's will. But death was not the end for these invaders from beyond reality. As they faded from existence, Kha'resh's ornate headdress pulsed with eldritch energies, drawing in the very essence of the Harrowing and storing it for future use.

The Phaeron strode across the battlefield, each step leaving reality more stable in his wake. Tendrils of dark matter, as black as the space between galaxies, whipped around him, sweeping away Harrowing entities by the dozens. These were no mere weapons, but extensions of Kha'resh's will, manifestations of power that laughed in the face of physics and causality.

Nearby, Imhotep, Nephthys, and Sekhet watched in awe as their Phaeron unleashed powers not seen since the War in Heaven. Their data-gathering subroutines worked overtime, analyzing every gesture, every fluctuation in the fabric of reality.

"By the silent stars," Imhotep breathed, his voice a mix of scientific fascination and something approaching reverence. "The Phaeron is manipulating reality on a scale I've only seen in ancient records of the C'tan themselves."

Nephthys nodded, her silent form shimmering as she processed the data. "His power signature... it's as if he's not just using the shards, but has somehow integrated their abilities into his very being."

As they spoke, Kha'resh reached the epicenter of the Harrowing's incursion. Here, reality itself seemed to be coming apart at the seams, with impossible geometries and physics-defying phenomena everywhere. The Phaeron stood tall, unfazed by the madness around him. With deliberate slowness, he raised his hand and clenched it into a fist.

The effect was immediate and catastrophic—for the Harrowing. Reality itself buckled under Kha'resh's will, as if the universe itself was eager to obey its master. This was the Writhing Worldscape, a power that allowed the Phaeron to rewrite the very laws of physics on a whim.

Where the Harrowing had violated reality by their very existence, trespassers from beyond the veil, Kha'resh imposed his will upon creation itself. The laws of physics bent and warped, not in the chaotic manner of the invaders, but in precise, calculated ways that served the Phaeron's purpose.

Harrowing entities caught in this reality storm found themselves suddenly bound by laws they couldn't comprehend or resist. Some imploded, crushed by suddenly rigid space. Others dissipated, their very substance redistributed across dimensions they couldn't access. Still others found themselves frozen in time, trapped in moments that stretched into eternity.

Through it all, Kha'resh advanced, an island of terrible calm in a sea of destruction. Behind him, Malakar the Immovable and the Eternals carved a path of devastation. Their hyperphase blades, already deadly beyond measure, now sang with the power of their Phaeron. Each swing didn't just cut through flesh or matter, but through the fabric of reality itself, leaving glowing tears in space-time that sealed the Harrowing away from the material universe.

As they neared the Echoing Vault, the source of the incursion, the resistance intensified. Harrowing entities, sensing the threat to their foothold in this reality, threw themselves at the Necron advance with renewed fury. But it was all for naught.

Malakar the Immovable lived up to his name, standing like a colossus against the tide of unreality. His massive war scythe, a relic from before the War in Heaven, cleaved through hordes of Harrowing entities. Where they tried to warp space to avoid his blows, Malakar's weapon simply cut through the warped space itself, finding its target regardless of the laws of physics.

The Eternals, Kha'resh's personal Lychguard, formed an impenetrable barrier around their Phaeron. Their dispersion shields flared constantly, deflecting attacks that came not just from physical space but from dimensions beyond mortal comprehension. When they struck back, their blows carried the weight of eons, each hit erasing swathes of Harrowing from existence.

Finally, they reached the Echoing Vault itself. The structure, if it could be called that, defied description. It seemed to exist in multiple places at once, its form shifting and changing even as one looked at it. Energies no sane mind could comprehend pulsed from its core, each wave bringing new hordes of Harrowing into being.

Kha'resh stood before this monument to chaos and unreality, his form a stark contrast in its perfect, immutable stability. His eyes, still blazing with stolen godhood, took in every detail of the Vault.

"Imhotep," he called, his voice carrying easily despite the dimensional havoc around them. "Begin the sealing procedure."

The master Cryptek stepped forward, flanked by a cadre of his most skilled apprentices. In their hands they carried devices that looked like a cross between technological marvels and eldritch artifacts. These were the most advanced sealing technologies the Necrons had ever developed, created specifically for this moment.

As Imhotep and his team began their work, setting up a perimeter around the Echoing Vault, the Harrowing's attacks reached a fever pitch. It was as if the very structure they poured from recognized the threat and was fighting back with every resource at its disposal.

Waves of unreality crashed against Necron lines. Warriors who had stood unmoved for millennia found themselves twisted into impossible shapes, their living metal bodies struggling to maintain coherence. Whole squadrons of Immortals vanished, only to reappear moments later, their systems scrambled by exposure to realities their minds couldn't process.

But still, the Necrons held. For every warrior that fell, two more took its place. Destroyers swooped through the mayhem, their weapons recalibrated to fire beams of pure probability, collapsing the quantum wave functions of Harrowing entities and forcing them into states that could be more easily destroyed. Deathmarks appeared and disappeared, their dimensional shunts allowing them to strike at the Harrowing from angles that shouldn't exist.

Through it all, Kha'resh stood unmoved, the eye of the storm. His presence alone seemed to stabilize reality around him, creating a bubble of sanity in a sea of madness. As Imhotep's sealing technology began to take effect, creating a web of energy that started to constrain the Echoing Vault, Kha'resh raised both hands.

The air around the Phaeron began to shimmer, not with heat, but with power. Tendrils of energy, black as the void and shot through with golden fire, emerged from his headdress. These were the powers of the C'tan shards he had claimed, the essences of the Nightbringer and the Deceiver, now bent entirely to his will.

As these energies intertwined with Imhotep's sealing technology, the effect was immediate and dramatic. The Echoing Vault shuddered, its ever-shifting form suddenly constrained. The flow of Harrowing entities slowed, then stopped altogether.

But Kha'resh wasn't finished. With a gesture of supreme effort, he brought his hands together in a thunderous clap. The sound echoed not just through physical space, but through dimensions beyond. In that moment, it was as if reality itself held its breath.

The Seals of Imhotep held the Echoing Vault in place, The Phaeron's Powers Reinforcing it with Reality and to finish it off a Tesseract Labyrinth was used to Store it all.

As the last energies of the sealing process dissipated, an eerie calm fell over the battlefield. The remaining Harrowing entities, cut off from their source, began to wither and fade. Some simply winked out of existence, while others collapsed in on themselves, becoming singularities that quickly evaporated.

Kha'resh lowered his hands, his eyes dimming from their godlike brilliance to their usual smoldering green. He turned to face his commanders, who looked upon him with a mix of awe and renewed loyalty.

"It is done," the Phaeron declared, his voice carrying the finality of a tomb being sealed. "The Echoing Vault is contained, and with it, the threat of the Harrowing."

The ease with which the Necrons contained this threat starkly contrasts with the struggles faced by the Imperium of Man in the original timeline. The Imperium, plagued by its own inefficiencies and the ignorance of its leadership, suffered countless casualties and was compelled to resort to methods deemed heretical to combat the Harrowing. Despite their desperate measures, they barely managed to contain the threat, ultimately choosing to erase all records of the incident in a bid to conceal their failure.

In contrast, the Necrons, with their advanced technologies and strategic prowess, demonstrated a markedly superior capability. Their preference for internal conflict among the Dynasties belies their true potential for handling such crises. Even without the intervention of their Phaeron or the utilization of the C'tan's immense powers, the Necrons possessed the means to effectively counter and neutralize interdimensional threats. The existence of the Godslayer was merely the icing on the cake, highlighting their formidable capacity for dealing with such challenges.

This difference underscores the Necrons' far superior strategic and technological capabilities compared to the backward and often inept Imperium of Man, whose approach to dealing with such threats proved ultimately inadequate and costly.