We Are Willing to Follow

At the same time, a ghostly green light illuminated the core of every Necrons Tomb Worlds in space.

That was the voice of the Silent King.

That was the first time in 65 million years that he issued a public address to all the Necrons.

"My compatriots."

The voice was ancient and serene, yet it echoed in every corner of the entire Necron Empire:

"I, the Silent King, hereby announce that I am officially returning."

He paused:

"But you are no longer bound by my will."

The entire Necron Empire fell into a deathly silence.

The Necron Warriors who were fighting simultaneously stopped what they were doing.

The Necron Overlord who were giving orders all raised their heads and looked in the direction of the light.

The slumbering Necrons simultaneously opened their eyes.

It has been 65 million years.

Since the War in Heaven ended, since they betrayed and killed the C'tan, since they transformed into this immortal metallic shell—

The will of the Silent King is the will of all the Necrons.

His commands are absolute law.

His existence is the sole axis of the Necron Empire.

No one has ever questioned this.

No one has ever thought to question this.

"You are free to choose your own path."

The voice continued, calm yet tinged with a weariness accumulated over 65 million years:

"You may follow me, or you may leave me."

You can continue fighting, or you can fall into a deep sleep.

You can choose to be enemies of humanity or coexist peacefully with them; it's all up to you."

He paused:

"This is your right to choose, which you deserve."

The communication has ended.

The eerie green light slowly dissipated.

But the entire Necron Empire remained immersed in that indescribable shock.

choose.

For the first time in 65 million years, they had heard this word.

For the first time in 65 million years, they were allowed --

You decide your own Destiny.

Could this be the beginning of chaos?

still--

A new beginning?

Nobody knows.

However, over 90% of the Necron Dynasties made the same choice at the same time.

"We are willing to follow Your Majesty."

"Follow forever"

"Your will is our will."

The sound came from countless Tomb Worlds, converging into a torrent that echoed in the void.

It wasn't because of fear.

It's not because of constraints.

It is because--

trust.

For 65 million years, the Silent King has never let them down.

He was the one who led them to a way out after they betrayed the C'tan.

His transformation into Necrons was the greatest suffering he endured.

He was the first to awaken from his slumber and wait, paving the way for them.

Now he chooses to engage with humanity, to temporarily halt the war, and to take a path never before trodden.

They were willing to believe him.

The Silent King sat on his throne, listening to the sounds.

His face was expressionless.

But in his heart—

The emotion simulation system trembled slightly.

It was something akin to being moved.

Although it's just a simulation.

But in this eternal death, that is enough.

Meanwhile, in another place, in another four-dimensional space, a Necrons is leisurely strolling around.

Trazyn the Infinite.

The ruler of Solemnace, the most famous collector of Necrons, possesses the largest, most precious, and most incredible collection in the entire Milky Way.

His museum is built in a separate four-dimensional space.

Here, space is folded and interwoven, and the flow of time is deliberately distorted.

Ordinary creatures that step into this place will instantly become lost in the endless dimensions, never to find their way out.

But for Trazyn, this is his home.

It was built up bit by bit over the past 65 million years.

An eternal temple of art.

At this moment, he is strolling through his collection.

The collections were placed in Stasis Field.

That was a force field he had carefully tuned, capable of freezing time completely, keeping the exhibits in the state they were in the moment they entered the museum.

Some of the exhibits are complete battlefields.

On a battlefield spanning tens of kilometers, countless soldiers are engaged in fierce combat.

The Imperial Guard soldiers were charging forward, their faces frozen in a mixture of fear and courage.

Chaos Space Marines are slaughtering, their eyes burning with eternal madness.

In the distance, the Titans were firing, their massive cannons spewing solidified flames.

That was the last battle in the life of the Lord Commander Solar Macharius.

Trazyn spent three years in hiding in order to collect this exhibit.

He witnessed firsthand the legendary Sun Lord fight to the very last moment in dire straits.

I witnessed firsthand those heroic soldiers who defended human dignity with their own lives.

Witnessing that battle firsthand, from beginning to end, from hope to despair, from life to death—

still.

At the last moment, he deployed Stasis Field.

The entire battlefield, along with the hundreds of thousands of warriors, the shattered Titans, and the endless barrage of artillery fire—

Everything was frozen in that one second.

Trazyn stood before the Stasis Field, admiring his collection.

"Perfect."

He muttered to himself.

He continued walking forward.

The next exhibit was several huge culture tanks.

Several naked bodies floated in the culture tank.

That's a clone.

Three clones of Fulgrim.

Two clones of Lorgar.

He acquired it through a trade with a certain Chaos Warband.

Those madmen somehow obtained genetic samples of the Primarch and attempted to clone perfect warriors to curry favor with their Chaos Gods god.

But their technique was too crude.

Those clones all had various defects.

Trazyn bought them, placed them in culture tanks, and kept them alive using state-of-the-art equipment.

Although not a perfect Primarch, at least--

It is also a copy of the Primarch.

It can also be considered a collection.

He continued walking forward.

The next exhibit is a group of Adeptus Custodes.

All twelve Adeptus Custodes were frozen in their charging stance.

Their golden armor gleamed brilliantly in the light of the Stasis Field, their halberds were raised high, and their eyes burned with eternal fury.

Those were the Emperor's personal guards, the most powerful warriors in the Imperium of Man, and beings that any enemy feared.

Trazyn nearly lost his life trying to collect this exhibit.

Those Adeptus Custodes were too powerful.

He was so powerful that his Necron Warriors couldn't even get close.

They were so strong that they almost broke free from his Stasis Field.

So powerful—if they hadn't been fighting a bloody battle against the Chaos Daemons, if they hadn't been at their last gasp, if he hadn't been so lucky—

He has absolutely no chance of succeeding.

But it worked.

Twelve Adeptus Custodes.

Exactly as is.

Flawless.

Trazyn stood before that Stasis Field, admiring it for a long time.

"Truly worthy of being the Emperor's personal guard."

He sighed:

"Even when frozen in time, it still feels oppressive."