Chapter 142: Hey Hey, Necron, Ti 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 tal 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 na.
Winmars.
That was the na given to it by the Ithakas Dynasty.
The exiled heir lay sleeping here.
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"Welco, esteed 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 shipnt 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 ti for the first detonation sequence."
Since their mission here revolved around the Blackstone, Morarg saw no reason to linger in other parts of the chanicum’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 frawork, built of exposed, rust-colored tal, lood 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 helt’s recording system, deciding to capture this mont 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 movents 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 re 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 ters into the air. The endless chain of blasts rumbled across the wasteland like rolling thunder, sending the ground into violent convulsions. The sky itself seed 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 environntal 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 ti.
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"Hey! Sothing’s crawling out of that fissure!"
Lerna's voice crackled urgently over the private comms channel.
"What is that?!"
"So kind of… glowing green insect?"
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