Trazyn's Specialty: Playing Out of Control

Trazyn Was Best at Getting Carried Away

"It was the stupidest Necrontyr, but that was precisely why I descended here."

It had always been a rather unruly Necrontyr.

Whether it was adventures through other Necron tombs or sneaking into the Royal Palaces of other races, Trazyn loved adventure. Life needed a little fun, or it was no different from death.

The death ray skimmed past again. The distorted space of Uncountable Ishu'dha caused Zandrekh the Crowned's attack to miss once more.

The shrieking, blazing beam passed far overhead before exploding against the distant ground behind Trazyn.

Its thought circuits should have overheated, liquid coolant should have hissed inside its skull, and runes should have warned it of overclocking. Yet none of that happened. On the contrary, Trazyn had never felt better.

Was this the wisdom of a C'tan willing to cooperate?

Rippling silver-white metal inscribed runes across its gray-black body. The programming of this temporary body changed, becoming better suited for computation and war.

Its consciousness scattered outward—onto the Doomsday Scythes diving through the sky, onto every soldier swinging a weapon. Trazyn felt as though it had become some superior version of an automated Machine Spirit.

It could command everything.

The Necron's thoughts could not help drifting afar. Millions of years ago, the cooperation between the Necrontyr and the C'tan had brought the entire galaxy to heel. That alone demonstrated the potential their partnership could unleash.

After realizing that Trazyn had little command experience, the Underking had even thoughtfully supplied it with copious data. Trazyn felt its algorithms evolving at tremendous speed, and it had even begun deliberately putting its newly learned knowledge into practice on the battlefield to test those techniques.

Had it been an ordinary crowned general, the war between them might have ended by now.

But the