Campaign

After a battle, several stars often disappear completely.

Those once-brilliant stars were extinguished like candle flames before the power of the Old Ones.

Back then, the Krork weren't just crazy people who could only shout "Waaagh."

They are the most perfect biological weapons created by the Old Ones, possessing unparalleled power and reproductive capabilities.

An Krork war leader, over fifty meters tall, with the strength to tear Titans apart with his bare hands.

Their army was like a green tsunami, leaving nothing but desolation in its wake.

Their "Battle Moon" is not a crude heap of scrap metal, but a meticulously designed war fortress, covered with thick armor and equipped with a main cannon capable of shattering a planet.

The Krork ' method of warfare was pure physical crushing.

They don't use schemes or tactics; they only use absolute power to crush all enemies.

If a Battle Moon collides with a planet, that planet will instantly shatter into pieces.

An Krork war chieftain charging at a fleet would tear that fleet apart with his bare hands.

Their dictionary doesn't contain the word "retreat," only "attack" and "die."

The Ancient Eldar were not yet the Fallen Ones hiding in the Webway at that time.

They were the most beloved creations of the Old Ones, possessing the most powerful Psionic Energy talents and the most advanced technology.

Their warships are elegant and deadly, capable of silently traversing the Warp and launching attacks from any angle.

Their warriors wield energy weapons and wear Psionic Energy armor; each one is capable of taking on an entire Necrons squad.

The Ancient Eldar's method of warfare is a combination of Psionic Energy and technology.

Their prophetic abilities allow them to foresee every move their enemies make, their Force Weapon can penetrate any material defense, and their Webway technology allows them to instantly deploy forces to any corner of the Milky Way.

In a battle, the Ancient Eldar often manages to surround the enemy before they can react, and then defeats them one by one with precise strikes.

And he, the leader of the Necrontyr, led his people in fighting against all of this.

At that time, the Necrons had not yet transformed into metal shells; they still retained flesh and blood and could feel pain and fear.

But they possess the most advanced technology— Blackstone capable of sealing Psionic Energy, Phase Weapons capable of tearing reality apart, and Living Metal capable of infinite replication.

Their method of warfare is attrition.

Use an endless army to wear down the enemy's strength, use a strong defense to withstand the enemy's attacks, and patiently wait for the enemy to make a mistake.

A battle can often last for hundreds or even thousands of years.

They don't care about time because they have plenty of time.

They didn't care about sacrifice, because they had endless warriors.

They didn't care about failure, because they knew that as long as they persevered, victory would eventually be theirs.

In the end, they won.

The Old Ones were defeated, the Krork declined, and the Ancient Eldar retreated into the Webway.

And he, along with his people, has become what he is now—eternal metal, eternal death, eternal silence.

The Silent King opened his eyes, the eerie green light still flowing before them.

Ten billion Necron Warriors, ten billion cold metal shells, ten billion eternal silences.

He thought of the Krork, and of those once-raging green tides.

What have they become now? Madmen who can only shout "Waaagh," piecing together crude warships from scrap metal, wandering on the edge of the Milky Way.

Their Battle Moon became a garbage dump, and their war leaders became idiots who only knew brute force.

The glory of the Krork has vanished completely.

He thought of the Ancient Eldar again, and of those once elegant yet deadly warriors.

What have they become now? Fallen beings hiding in the Webway, madmen indulging in desire, pitiful creatures hunted by Slaanesh.

Their Craftworlds were destroyed one after another, and their warriors died one after another.

The glory of the Ancient Eldar has also vanished.

Only the Necrons, only his people, retain the power they once possessed.

Because they are asleep, in the deepest tomb, in the strongest seal, in the cracks of time.

They survived 65 million years of trials and tribulations, the rise and fall of countless civilizations, and the erosion of Chaos and the decline of their race.

When they woke up, they looked exactly the same as they did back then.

Cold, powerful, eternal.

The Silent King looked at the army that was gathering, and a complex emotion welled up in his heart.

It was a feeling of pride, relief, and a touch of indescribable weariness.

His people exchanged eternal death for eternal power.

Was it worth it? He didn't know.

All he knew was that he had to protect them, lead them, and ensure their continued existence in this Milky Way.

He thought of humanity, and of that rising star.

They covered in less than 10,000 years the distance that the Necrons took millions of years to traverse.

Their individual strength is outrageously high, their technology is advancing at breakneck speed, and their leader is a madman who would wage war against the entire Milky Way for his mother.

The Silent King once believed that after the fall of the Old Ones, the Milky Way would be the next to dominate the Eldar.

They are gifted, powerful, and possess the legacy of Old Ones.

But he was wrong.

The Eldar used their talents to create a Warp Chaos Gods, and then used that Chaos Gods to destroy themselves.

And humanity, those short-lived, fragile, and insane humans, are gradually following the path that the Eldar once walked.

Their Emperor became the Dark King, their Primarch became Lesser God one after another, and their warriors are gaining increasingly outrageous powers.

Silent King watched all this, a strange feeling welled up inside him.

That's appreciation.

He admired human potential, their madness, and their indomitable spirit.

But he knew even better that potential was just potential, and madness would only lead to destruction.

Humanity is repeating the mistakes of the Eldar, heading down the path to destruction.

And his Necrons will live on forever.

The Silent King snapped out of his reverie and turned his gaze to the army that was gathering.

The 10 billion Necron Warriors have now completed their formation.

They were arranged in countless square formations, each with a million warriors.

Those formations spread out in the void, stretching for millions of kilometers, like a dark green ocean.

At the very front is the "Immortals" formation.

The Immortals are the backbone of the Necrons; their bodies are forged from the strongest Living Metal, and they wield "Gauss Weapons" capable of penetrating any armor.

Their tactics were to advance steadily, suppress the enemy with concentrated firepower, and defend against counterattacks with strong defenses.

Each Immortals is capable of taking on an entire squadron of Space Marines.

Behind the Immortals ' formation were the "Deathmarks" snipers.

They are the Necrons ' deadliest archers; their weapons can ignore distance and obstacles, striking directly at the target's core.

A Deathmarks sniper can shoot through the bridge of a warship millions of kilometers away with a single shot.

Their bodies have been modified to be extremely lightweight, enabling them to move silently within the Phase World and never reveal their location.

The army's flanks were the "Destroyers" legions.

The Destroyers are the most fanatical of the Necrons, channeling all their emotions into hatred for the living.

Their bodies were transformed into pure war machines, their arms replaced with heavy Gauss Cannons, and their lower limbs replaced with anti-gravity thrusters.

They had no tactics, no strategy, only killing.