One million eight hundred thousand sounded like a lot, but compared to the total number of Necrons, it was a mere hair on an ox. In reality, though, that wasn't how it worked.
So much time had passed that even though the Necrons had gone into hibernation after the War in Heaven, even the finest technological creations had been worn down by the ages. Many Necrons had simply turned stupid.
On top of that, Necrontyr society had still been an interstellar feudal slave system. Slaves of low status hadn't even been allowed to use the better thought matrices.
The Silent King's subjects weren't the slave soldiers, but the Warriors—those who could at least be called minor nobles.
How did the saying go? Even a poor family needed a door to enter through.
And don't go thinking that was unfair. The C'tan hadn't been working for nothing, either. Their goal had been to devour the Necrontyr's life energy—the flesh that held their souls. If they didn't fill the C'tan lords' mouths, did they think they could ascend to machinehood? Not a chance!
Besides, those 1.8 million Necron Warriors definitely weren't all the Silent King's forces. When the four Necron kings joined forces, they'd been able to field 110 million Rick after exhausting their dynasties' resources. Those Tomb Worlds accounted for only a third of the Necrons, and the Silent King, who stood at the very top, had no fewer troops than that.
As the Moon base's air defenses went dormant, a spatial rift suddenly opened above the satellite humans called Luna. The colossal Necron warship known as the Song of Oblivion emerged from the sub-dimension.
The moment it appeared, the entire system's fortresses blared piercing alarms. Then the Emperor's order suppressed them at once. Dorn didn't lower his guard, however, and