Chapter 142: Hey Hey, Necron, Time to Wake Up
Graia-106—currently a mining world under the jurisdiction of the Graia Forge World.
As a frontier planet, its vast, dust-covered land was dry, cold, and plagued by constant sandstorms.
Yet, contrary to its barren appearance, this world was actually rich in resources.
Graia-106 provided Graia with a rare metal of exceptional ductility, making it one of the Forge World's most valuable mining planets.
Heavy excavation machines roared without pause, warning lights flashed, dust storms rose, and piles of ore tumbled down.
But before all this, Graia-106 was not its name.
Winmars.
That was the name given to it by the Ithakas Dynasty.
The exiled heir lay sleeping here.
<+>
"Welcome, esteemed Death Guard."
A Tech-Priest in deep crimson robes bowed low, paying his respects to the towering Astartes before him.
"Greetings," Morarg replied simply.
Behind Morarg stood four of the Death Guard's most promising recruits:
Antaeus, Bast, Lerna, and Fleming.
This was supposed to be a simple escort mission—just a matter of making an appearance.
As per the long-standing understanding between the Death Guard and Graia, they had to oversee the loading and transportation of this shipment of Blackstone to certify that everything was in order.
"Apologies, warriors of the Death Guard. The mining of Blackstone is still estimated to take another standard Terran week."
"You may proceed to the designated mining zone to observe the excavation process."
"On the bright side, the blast points for the Blackstone excavation in Zone 03 have already been set. If you go now, you'll arrive just in time for the first detonation sequence."
Since their mission here revolved around the Blackstone, Morarg saw no reason to linger in other parts of the Mechanicum's mining operations. He gave a simple nod and agreed.
And so, here they were.
Standing at the edge of Mining Zone 03, they stood atop a towering observation platform.
Its framework, built of exposed, rust-colored metal, loomed high above the dust-choked landscape.
Morarg and his recruits watched in silence as two Tech-Priests busied themselves nearby.
"Ten-second countdown."
A nearby servitor's rasping voice crackled through the comms.
In the distance, tiny crimson figures—Tech-Priests and labor servitors—moved in slow, deliberate patterns.
"Nine."
Lerna shifted forward slightly, trying to get a better view.
This was a massive detonation sequence—an entire mining zone would be blasted apart at once.
Back on Barbarus, he had never seen anything like this before.
He double-checked his helmet's recording system, deciding to capture this moment on video.
He'd bring it back for Io to see.
Io had been selected for Apothecary training and was currently undergoing rigorous instruction.
That was why Io wasn't here.
"Eight."
Antaeus stared at the scene before him. Standing on an alien world, everything around him felt strangely unreal.
"Seven."
Bast was zoning out.
"Six."
Fleming straightened his posture, trying to stand with greater solemnity.
"Five."
Morarg ignored the small, fidgety movements of the recruits behind him, choosing instead to gaze toward the distant wasteland.
"Four."
Tech-Priest 78, in charge of the excavation, was making one final calculation before the detonation.
Based on prior seismic readings, this explosion would coincide perfectly with a natural tectonic shift, amplifying the resulting quake.
The ground trembled—a clear prelude to an impending earthquake.
"Three."
Winmars—an unremarkable, insignificant frontier world of the Ithakas Dynasty.
A convenient dumping ground for exiled nobles.
"Two."
Perhaps his master was too bound by formality. As the crown prince of a dynasty, he had grown distant from his younger brother—watching as Oltyx was cast out, exiled by the greedy king Unnas.
As the tectonic plates shifted, the distant mountains tilted precariously.
"One."
In the end, even his king—Djoseras—was exiled here, banished by Unnas' insatiable greed.
And he—Nas—a mere soldier who had risen from the ranks through loyalty, was entombed alongside his king as his regent.
Deep within the buried explosives, heat rapidly built up.
"Zero."
From the unshakable peak of the dynasty's great pyramid, he had descended to its lowest depths.
A colossal detonation erupted.
A tidal wave of yellow dust exploded skyward, cascading thousands of meters into the air. The endless chain of blasts rumbled across the wasteland like rolling thunder, sending the ground into violent convulsions. The sky itself seemed to waver under the force.
A vast, jagged fissure split the barren land in two. The shifting tectonic plates forced the chasm wider and wider, its edges crumbling away into the abyss.
[Severe environmental disturbance detected.]
The tomb's automated systems, bound by their ancient directives, responded accordingly.
A ghostly green glow flickered to life.
He awakened.
Nas attempted to blink—but his systems quickly reminded him that he hadn't possessed eyelids in a long, long time.
<+>
"Hey! Something's crawling out of that fissure!"
Lerna's voice crackled urgently over the private comms channel.
"What is that?!"
"Some kind of… glowing green insect?"
<+>
If you want to see more chapter of this story and don't mind paying $5 each month to read the latest posted chapter, please go to my
Latest Posted Chapter in Patreon:
Link to the latest posted chapter: