Desperate Necrons

"Here?"

"Here."

His monstrous jaws gaped wide, fangs bared. Magnus-lad stared at the bizarre waves within the vast ocean and continued adjusting the exquisite monocle before his eyes.

"No mistake..."

Magnus-lad said, continuing to observe the waves of the Warp.

"The Great Sage's projection is here. The Underworld Domain should have sages of its own."

"Fine," Big Teef said gruffly. "We'd best hurry—how are those muddle-headed lads doing?"

"They still believe they are some kind of flesh-and-blood creatures, shouting that they are Alpharius."

Magnus-lad frowned.

"Gretchin juice and calling upon the Underking cannot cure them, but we have yet to find any infectious properties in the juice used to crush them. This truly is not among the wisdom imparted to us by the Great Sage. I am certain the Blood God does not possess such traits."

"Mm."

Big Teef scratched his chin. "The galaxy is evolving, or perhaps degenerating. We only need to follow its rhythm."

They had run into some trouble in Khorne's domain, while the tall white-haired figure who called himself the Emperor's attendant had already departed ahead of them—

Big Teef realized that they still needed enlightenment.

It could not be the Underking—because the Underking did not love them. They were still not noble enough to enter the Underworld Domain.

But a sage... perhaps a sage could treat everyone equally.

The slow twisting of metal creaked and groaned. Silver-gray rods burst apart as black liquid, seemingly from another dimension, formed into enormous hands that reached through the gaps in the metal.

Strain harder. Keep straining.

Blackness sprayed from every gap, writhing desperately toward the distance. The tesseract was deforming, its reactor making deeply ominous popping sounds as a series of small chain explosions blossomed within it.

No, the Void Dragon's liquid metal was under control, but