Will Necrons Have Pure Dreams?

The Necron are a fascinating race, so fascinating that they brought about their own demise.

Unlike the Aeldari, Orks, humans, and various other Xenos, although all races in this world of competing for decline are in decay (except for the incredibly powerful Tau), they can still say that hope remains.

The Necron are different; they have no hope left. In fact, it could be said that the Necron race was wiped out the moment they stepped into the Biotransference device, leaving behind only the Necron -machines.

Mordred even speculated that Nurgle's creation might be related to the dead during the War in Heaven, and that the Necron must have played a significant role.

If the Four Merchants turned the cesspool of the Warp into a septic tank, then the reason the Warp was transformed from a true paradise into a cesspool is ultimately due to the Necron and the C'tan.

In that ancient era when C'tan coexisted, the Warp was not as rampant as it is now. Instead, it was beaten down by the Physical World, which dominated the raging inferno and had to declare that the Physical World was the boss.

These C'tan, large and small, are like swarms of rats, one after another. The powerhouses of various races have explosive stats and can even roam the Empyrean, cultivating both magic and martial arts. But overall, the society is relatively peaceful.

It's not that it's particularly good, but it's basically not like the current Galaxy where everyone is a PVP free-for-all, a chaotic mess of random actions, and then they go to the Warp to fight. Everyone's a little Orks, and even if you get beaten to a pulp, you'll still have to suck your teeth a couple of times first.

If that were all, it would be fine. After all, they kept to themselves. At that time, the C'tan didn't have a physical form at all. It was just an energy body that lay on a star like a nebula, eating and sleeping, or rather, a natural phenomenon.

But it is precisely this unconscious behavior that has created a racial tragedy known as the Necron.

As the name suggests, the Necron. Death permeates the entire lives of this race, and their average lifespan is less than 50 years. Living to 50 is considered an extremely auspicious sign.

Living to 50 years old doesn't seem short, considering they are an ancient race. But the problem is that the Necron is extremely advanced; they are pure physical men. If the Old Ones are likened to an empire, then they are the Tau.

This is not a denigration, but rather a great compliment. Despite the inexplicable naiveté of the Tau, they are at least a race worthy of being served at the dinner table, and the Old Ones are being compared to the Necron.

Despite this powerful technological support, the average lifespan of those Necron has not increased; in fact, it has become shorter.

If they were all short-lived, that would be one thing, but the races active during that period all had incredibly long lifespans. Dog-men only reached adulthood at 800 years old, and with good food and drink, living for 10,000 years wouldn't be a problem at all, while the Old Ones were immortal.

This extreme disparity was unacceptable to the Necron, leading to despair for the entire race. They eventually sought out the Old Ones, hoping these true Morality exemplars could lend them a hand.

If even Mordred like Morality can attract countless people to join him, then the Morality standards of the Old Ones must be off the charts; they certainly wouldn't refuse.

Then they discovered it was incurable. We're not part of the same system. Your premature aging is a curse from the Physical World, already bound to your race. Even if you leave your toxic star, you'll still die, so just wait to die!

I wonder if the ancient Old Ones, like Hua Tuo, offered a treatment plan to those Necron: to cut open their skulls with a sharp axe.

But medical disputes are harmful! Those Necron will naturally object, feeling that the Old Ones were deceiving them: why can't we even live to 50, while you can live forever?

Driven by jealousy, the Necron went completely mad and immediately engaged in the first War in Heaven with the Old Ones, but he was no match for them and was directly beaten back to his home planet.

If the Old Ones had hardened their hearts and completely suppressed this group of Necron, then there probably wouldn't be this Warp anymore. But what can you do when they're kind? Good people always have to be held at gunpoint.

It was at this moment that the Necron suddenly discovered the secret of their own sun: the star was alive, Nightbringer were sleeping soundly on it.

As the undisputed leader among the three C'tan Gods, Nightbringer neither the wisdom of the Void Dragon nor the cunning of the Burning One; his position as leader is entirely due to numerical advantages.

There are no skills involved, not even a thought is required; it's purely about numbers. As a result, the Grim Reaper in the minds of all spirits is depicted as someone wielding a scythe—that is, the Nightbringer.

There's this Grim Reaper, whose power is off the charts in the entire universe, sleeping on his own sun and sucking up star energy. Those Necron must be incredibly unlucky.

Then something interesting happens: the Necron are also humanoid creatures, roughly the same in form as humans, and also possess a habit unique to humans, namely, their admiration for strength.

Forget about this and that, it's all the same dead end anyway, I must start praying immediately!

For the C'tan, stars are their primary source of food, but this food is like protein cubes that can only fill their stomachs; it has little flavor but won't starve them.

But a soul containing life energy is different. This is no longer just a seasoning, but a massive cloud shell, even more potent than a shell, which has thoroughly intoxicated the Nightbringer.

From then on, the Necron became minions of the C'tan, creating Living Metal shells for their own deities. Seeing how much the Nightbringer enjoyed it, more and more C'tan began to invest, wanting to have a good time too.

With so many Cosmic Star God as their rulers, the Necron had barely taken flight when they encountered the source of all evil —the Deceiver —who tricked them into entering a body-transformation device for a Mechanical Ascension.

Perhaps in the eyes of the C'tan, they hadn't lied; they had indeed given their underlings benefits, using Living Metal as materials, and even making them their kin. The only price was that they were allowed to consume the flesh and souls the underlings didn't want.

This marked the beginning of a catastrophe, a gluttonous feast that engulfed multiple galaxies, where life was rapidly destroyed galaxy by galaxy, and the War in Heaven erupted in full force.

In this war that sought to resolve everything, both sides engaged in an arms race, with various technologies advancing by leaps and bounds, and the war lasting for millions of years.

Space was torn apart, time was distorted, and the flames of war even spread to multiple dimensions. The previous friendly and peaceful mode was completely shattered, and the Dark Forest Era began, where survival was impossible without fighting.

An asteroid, shattered by an unknown force, also flew towards that broken little planet called Terra, giving some scattered little mice a chance to develop as the previous overlord perished.

This is why the Necron are so abstract. They do not consider themselves a newly born race, but rather as the Necron who have lost their souls. They want to reverse their Biotransference and find their lost souls.

But when Trazyn saw Zalasus, who spoke with extreme foul language, used extremely vulgar language, and behaved with extreme savagery, he crashed.

Since they have no past or future, the Necron are all madmen, always trying to imitate the habits they had in life from the data array to ensure that their minds do not collapse.

Trazyn chose the past; he wanted to preserve history and use his collection of artifacts and historical records to cope with extreme problems such as amnesia, identity confusion, and even loss of life goals.

But Zalasus is different. This guy has always been a lunatic. He's gone mad, but Trazyn detected energy fluctuations on him that were different from those of ordinary Necron. In other words, after being mad for hundreds of years, this guy has actually started to develop a soul.

"This is the path to salvation for our people, Zalasus, tell me quickly how you did it?"

"How many times have I told you, you must call me someone whose name you don't know! You can't even say 'please,' you have absolutely no respect for me."

A wisp of black smoke billowed from Trazyn's body; the machine's temperature was rapidly rising, the coolant already vaporized. He really wanted to smash this bastard to death with the Empathic Obliterator: "You son of a bitch, fine, Your Excellency, the Unnamable, Zalasus, please tell me, what exactly happened to you?"

"Do you want to know?"

"Enough! You crazy lunatic, are you going to tell me or not? I know, I desperately want to know."

"The logic array of Trazyn's clone is melting down. The automatic registration plan has already selected the counterattack mode for him. If Zalasus dares to say no, he will immediately summon his main body to beat this bastard to death."

"Beg me!"

"(▼□▼)"

The Living Metal perfectly simulated the emotional changes of Trazyn's virtual personality. In the unsettling silence, Zalasus finally gave in and pulled out a bag of emerald crystals.

"Chaos Energy Crystal?"

"You're an expert, but this isn't an ordinary Chaos Energy Crystal. It's Chaos Energy Crystal that has been purified multiple times and retains its strong activity. Its concentration is so high that even those Greater Daemon beings known as Warp would be contaminated by it."

In fact, Trazyn was no stranger to Chaos Energy Crystal, but because of Mordred, the Fel Energy was also tainted with some C'tan characteristics, which would remind the Necron of some unpleasant things, much like Daemon seeing dung.

Trazyn was so eager to uncover this secret that he wasn't afraid of anything—whether it smelled like dung, looked like dung, or even was a real pile of dung.

At Zalasus's signal, Trazyn raised a small pinch of Fel Energy powder and poured it into his energy system.

As the plasma circulated back and forth, Trazyn instantly felt pleasure. Countless ideas seemed to be flowing out of his thought array, and the Living Metal eyeballs that served as a disguise also began to wander, eventually transforming into a wise appearance identical to that of the Serenity Man.

But that wasn't all. Like sipping a super refreshing iced tea on a hot summer day, Trazyn felt as if he had been elbowed repeatedly by countless Black Mambas. An indescribable sense of coolness made him feel Invincible Under Heaven.

What's even more remarkable is that Trazyn was able to confirm that this was not a virtual personality simulated by a logic array, but a real desire.

Looking at the world around him, which had changed so much, like the clumps of dog hair that could be seen everywhere on the street, Trazyn, like Dog-men, found a corner to lie down and enjoy the rare warm sunshine.

"Ah~ Zalasus, your crystal is just too, too powerful."

"You bumpkin, I don't think you know anything. Come on, I'll take you to a great place where you can experience the ultimate thrill of using the Aeldari's greatest enemy as a slave."

"Such a wonderful place?"

"That's right, that place is right behind us. Boss, give us two hours, I want ten."

"How delightful, how delightful!"

And just as Trazyn was being led astray by Zalasus, a monster whose mutated form was nobody knew what it was, he was being led astray.

Looking at the two people and the cat arranged in front of her in extra-large, large, and small cups, Mordred, who was currently petting Russ's mother, was at a loss. "Which of you wants to go out and play with me?"