The moment those words fell, a silence more suffocating than any before descended on the hall.
The two Necron Phaerons, so aggressive only moments ago, fell silent together.
They stood motionless, like machines stripped of their souls and power.
The news had clearly left both Phaerons stunned.
And so, naturally, the one truly in charge stepped forward to deal with it.
On the enormous Blackstone Throne, the holographic projection that had stood perfectly still suddenly moved.
The Silent King's image leaned forward slightly. His head turned toward Rowan, and a light unlike any before flickered in his ghostly green eyes.
"Unknown, mysterious being. Since you have appeared, I shall remain silent no longer."
The Silent King had spoken.
His voice seemed to rise from an ancient tomb, deep and solemn.
"The Silent King pays you his respects."
"Oh? You're speaking? No more clinging to tradition?"
Rowan nodded with interest and greeted him.
The title "Silent King" was self-explanatory.
It originated with the Triarch, the highest authority among the Necrons.
Of course, though it was called a council, it was effectively the Silent King's one-man rule.
The two Phaerons were merely his puppets, mouthpieces in the most literal sense.
At formal diplomatic gatherings, the Phaerons usually spoke on his behalf while the Silent King maintained a striking silence, underscoring his inviolable royal authority.
Now, however, the Silent King had chosen to break that custom.
Clearly, the Necrons regarded this matter as supremely important.
"That is because you merit such an honor. Whatever you are and wherever you come from, you are an unknown god. Even the mightiest C'tan I encountered in the past, whose power could shake heaven and earth, would struggle to compare with you in certain respects. A being such as you must receive the highest respect from me—and