Interlude: The Rascal and His C'tan Offspring

The moment his soul left his body, Dantioch thought he had died.

He knew he was no Psyker, incapable of temporarily separating his soul from his body.

This was knowledge he had obtained long ago, when the Fourth Legion and the Fifteenth Legion had still been on good terms, from a Thousand Sons sorcerer.

Dantioch could clearly sense that he had become some kind of spiritual entity, freed from the restraints of his aged flesh.

"Could it be that my faith in the Emperor was not devout enough?"

"Why had my soul not returned to the Golden Throne?"

Countless questions arose in the Warsmith's heart, but he was not one to torment himself with futile worries. He quickly cleared away his distracting thoughts and faced reality before him.

Since he could not yet return to the Golden Throne, he might as well take this chance to investigate the Pharos lighthouse properly.

Before he died, he wanted to solve the mystery that had consumed more than thirty years of his life and immeasurable effort, yet had always remained just one step short of completion.

Dantioch's soul delved deep into the tesseract labyrinth.

Though this dimensional maze, built with Necron technology, looked no larger from the outside than a Land Raider,

within it lay an unimaginably vast space, folded and warped beyond comprehension.

A single tesseract labyrinth contained the Necrons' miraculous mastery of spatial and dimensional technology.

"The four-dimensional space has formed a completely enclosed spacetime region, like a Klein bottle containing its prisoner."

"This tesseract labyrinth is merely a cage. The true source of infinite energy is the prisoner held within."

Over the past few decades, Dantioch's research into Necron technology had reached an extremely profound level.

He had even fully grasped the Necron technology contained within the Pharos.

So long