On her journey to find the Cronesword, she had faced countless puzzles and difficulties. She had dealt with many races: the Harlequins, who could barely be said to speak like the Aeldari; the dim-witted Orks; ancient demons sealed away; and Necrontyr dynasties slumbering at the hearts of planets.
They had once disturbed a Phaeron from her slumber. Yvraine remembered that Phaeron vividly. It was the first time she had encountered a female Phaeron among the Necrontyr. Because of her sex, the shell crafted for this female Phaeron had gentle contours, and her voice was pleasant and kind, lacking the coldness of machinery and metal. If one closed one's eyes, there would have been no difference between her speech and that of a living person.
The female Phaeron was named Hazpukete, and her dynasty called itself the Darkkeepers. The female Phaeron had merely reproached Yvraine for her recklessness, as though a kitten had knocked a cup from a table while scampering about. There had been no disassembly or torture, only faint annoyance and helplessness in her tone. Her attitude had been much like Rotaros's, though more restrained; at the very least, she did not display such blatant disdain.
"Whatever the case, thank you for saving my people." Yvraine bowed to Rotaros. Rotaros then closed the communication channel. Illuminor Szeras emerged from a corner, followed by the Astromancer Orikan, who had been dragged over to clean up the mess.
"So? How did they react? Did you notice any hostility from the Subjective One?" Szeras asked.
"Hostility? I didn't see any. His expression was calm—neither good nor bad."
"That's good... that's good..." Szeras let out a breath of relief. Behind him, Orikan sneered, "Heh heh... If something really had gone wrong, we'd have handed you over. We'd stick some Aeldari skin on you