"What power."
Was this the pinnacle of technology—wielding godlike authority over the Galaxy?
Ron was deeply stunned.
He could sense that, with the activation of some kind of device, the spatial laws in several sectors had been altered.
Even more terrifying, the stars in those sectors were dimming. Their suns seemed to have been snuffed out directly, plunging the entire region into utter darkness.
That was a realm close to the divine!
Not long ago.
The Hall of the Tombstone Council.
The area was deathly silent. Even the Phaerakh of Radiance, who usually ranted and raved, had quieted down.
The state of the war was far from optimistic.
The melee was spreading. Great Szarekh's tomb armies were trapped within the war zone and were under attack from numerous races.
After the battlefield had been carved apart, the tomb armies in each region were forced to fight alone, greatly weakening their overall strength.
The fronts across dozens, even hundreds, of sectors were all on the verge of collapse.
One Necrontyr Dynasties fleet after another had suffered heavy losses, faintly showing signs of annihilation.
"Damn it! This betrayal and defiance cannot be tolerated!"
The Silent King gnashed his teeth.
As he watched the tomb armies under his command being besieged by the many armies of the Galaxy and the Warp, he could no longer hold himself together. An indescribable humiliation and fury surged in his heart.
The Lord of Dominion felt as though he had been plotted against, as though he had fallen into some kind of trap. That was undoubtedly a sign of foolishness, and it would cause his power and majesty to waver.
The Silent King had noticed that the gazes of the Necrontyr phaerakhs and nobles under his command had already begun to change. They no longer feared him