In Warhammer, My System is Minecraft-Chapter 149: Everyone Has Their Little Secrets (Bonus)
This is the bonus Chapter for almost reaching 2000 Powerstones.
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The goblet Sanguinius held high froze in mid-air; in that split second, a multitude of thoughts rushed through his mind.
Guilliman placed his massive gauntlets on the table. Even though he had prior experience cooperating with the Necrons, his expression was still unfriendly as he stared at the xenos in the projection.
Guilliman wasn’t entirely surprised that Necrons would appear in the Baal system.
He had seen in the campaign reports that on other planets within the Red Scar sector, the Necrons had joined forces with the Blood Angels to fight against the Tyranids.
This must be what the Necron meant when he said, "You have cooperated with us before."
The questions were only multiplying. Why would the Blood Angels cooperate with a xenos race, and why did the Necrons arrive exactly after Sanguinius’s resurrection?
Guilliman looked at Sanguinius. It seemed this elder brother of his was hiding quite a few secrets.
The other Blood Angels at the long table were mostly shocked and furious, glaring angrily at the Necron.
This was supposed to be the banquet celebrating the Primarch’s return, yet it was interrupted by this uninvited Necron. Anyone would be in a bad mood.
Zeke gazed at the metallic face speaking pedantically in the projection.
He hadn’t waited for Trazyn, but here on Baal, amidst blood and wine, one of Trazyn’s compatriots had shown up instead.
After Cadia, Zeke hadn’t been able to find Trazyn. Weren’t we supposed to go to the End together? Now there’s not even a shadow of him.
After the projection spoke that single sentence, it didn’t continue, and the scene temporarily fell into silence.
"Why are you here?" With neither side speaking, Lord Regent Guilliman stepped forward.
"Human, stating your name before speaking is the most basic of etiquette." The Judicator Prime responded to Guilliman.
Arrogance. Incomparable arrogance. The word was written all over their metal skeletons.
As the pinnacle race of physical technology in the real universe, the Necrons were always like this. They believed they were the true masters of the galaxy; the Aeldari, humanity—all were nothing but primitive creatures to them.
However, Zeke only saw pathos in the Necrons; they were a race without a future.
In the distant past, the Necrons were known as the Necrontyr. Back then, they still possessed bodies of flesh and blood, plagued by their tragically short lifespans.
The C’tan deceived the Necrontyr, inducing their entire race to collectively choose mechanical ascension.
The Necrontyr became the Necrons, gaining near-infinite lifespans.
So, what was the price?
The price was that all Necrons entirely lost their souls.
From that moment on, this race no longer had any hope to speak of. Unable to reproduce, unable to feel emotion, their eventual extinction was a foregone conclusion. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺
"I am Roboute Guilliman, Primarch of the XIIIth Legion, Lord Regent of the Imperium of Man. It is necessary for me to know why you have appeared here."
Guilliman obviously knew the temperament of these Necrons and didn’t bother arguing the point.
"Coming here was not my own will; it is the decision of the noble Szarekh, the greatest Silent King."
The Judicator Prime held a towering ceremonial broadsword with both hands.
The Silent King... The Silent King? An uneasy silence permeated the crowd as the Blood Angels looked at each other.
Sanguinius buried his face beneath his massive wings, this action was keenly noticed by both Zeke and Guilliman.
Sanguinius’s little secret is finally going to be exposed. Zeke gloated internally, pfft-pfft-pfft spitting out a few grape seeds, and decisively activated "spectator mode" to watch the drama unfold.
Guilliman’s gaze grew deeper, a trace of something peculiar mixing into the look he gave Sanguinius.
Things were getting interesting.
The Silent King was the absolute ruler of the Necrons. Even if some Necron dynasties didn’t acknowledge it, it was an unalterable fact.
He commanded the highest authority of the Necrons, the Triarch, and had essentially hollowed out the entire council, implanting two Phaerons as his puppets and mouthpieces.
His power was unquestionable.
After the Judicator Prime finished his sentence, he fixed his gaze on Sanguinius. The arrogance vanished from his face, replaced by a rare look of respect.
If there was one human who would be mourned, the Judicator Prime would say it was Sanguinius.
If all humans were as wise and courteous as Sanguinius, then one could say the human race still had hope.
"Sanguinius," the Judicator Prime looked around at the Blood Angels within the Arx Angelicum, "for the conversation that follows, I am quite certain we will not need this many people."
The Great Angel Sanguinius seemed to wake from a dream. He first promised that the Blood Banquet would be reconvened later, and then had Dante dismiss the majority of the Blood Angels.
Next came the trickiest part. Sanguinius turned his gaze toward Guilliman.
Guilliman turned his head away, his rear end seemingly welded to the chair, completely motionless.
Sigh. Sanguinius let out a breath. He knew this would happen. No matter what he said, it would be impossible to persuade Guilliman to leave.
Sanguinius could only turn his gaze to Zeke, hoping Zeke could help him persuade Guilliman.
Zeke just kept relentlessly eating grapes, his two ears acting as if they hadn’t heard a word Sanguinius said.
At the very last second before the heavy doors closed, Dante, who had been escorting the Blood Angels out, turned back halfway and squeezed through the doors.
"Lord Primarch, please forgive my unauthorized decision." After requesting forgiveness, Dante stood there without saying another word.
Sanguinius ended up letting Dante stay in the Hall of the Council of Blood as well.
Only the two Primarchs, Zeke, Dante, and the Necron in the projection on the table remained in the hall.
"If possible," the Judicator Prime conversed, "my Lord still wishes to speak with you face-to-face. This sort of setting is still too discourteous."
"Here is fine," Sanguinius said, braving Guilliman’s glare, which looked ready to eat someone alive.
"If that is the case..." The Judicator Prime stood at attention and pointed his ceremonial broadsword forward. The camera view expanded forward accordingly.
Zeke craned his neck, looking around curiously.
First came a tomb corridor cast from glossy black metal, its edges decorated with glittering golden runes and sigils.
The corridor stretched from one end to the other, terminating in a massive space. In the center of the space stood a pyramid.
A flight of steps led up to the top of the pyramid.
Statues of two glittering alien deities stood on either side, their arms raised high, forming a vault as they reached the top. Their heads were bowed in a posture of pleading and supplication.
Gathered around the pyramid were more Necrons than Zeke had seen in his entire life.
"For the sake of Sanguinius’s, I permit you to remain standing before my greatest Lord of Silence."
The Judicator Prime walked up the steps, arrived at the top of the pyramid, turned around, and knelt on one knee.
Then, ring after ring of Necrons knelt down in perfect, synchronized unison.
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Goal = 400 Powerstones.
