One Terran Standard Month had passed on the Biel-Tan Craftworld since that "Golden Rebirth."
For the long-lived Aeldari, a month was merely the blink of an eye-not even enough for a Bonesinger to compose the prelude to a new song. But for Biel-Tan as it was now, this month had felt longer than the past ten thousand years, and far more... noisy.
The once quiet, sorrowful wraithbone halls, steeped in artistic elegance, had undergone a complete change of atmosphere.
"Wrong! That line is crooked! I asked for the Blackstone Fortress's 'polarity inversion matrix,' not a damned doughnut!"
In the center of Biel-Tan's grandest artisan hall, a ten-meter-tall golden giant crouched on the floor, pointing a massive metal rod at a specially made, gigantic wraithbone slab.
Before him stood more than a dozen master artisans from the Seer Council. These masters, normally revered by thousands, now watched that "god" lose his temper like a bunch of schoolchildren caught misbehaving, sweat pouring down their faces.
Liu Zhipeng felt utterly exhausted.
His mind held the complete knowledge of "Gellar Fields" and "blackstone technology" inherited from his Fifth Life. It was technology capable of closing the Eye of Terror.
The problem was that Necron technology was founded on cold, logical code and physical laws, while Aeldari technology was founded on... singing and art.
Talking code with a bunch of artists was like explaining C++ to Mozart. He might as well have been talking to a brick wall.
"Overlord..." One artisan shakily raised his hand. "This 'matrix' of yours... its melody is too grating. Our wraithbone cannot take shape under such 'discordant' tones. It... it has no soul."
"Who gives a damn about a soul!" The golden flames around Liu Zhipeng surged three meters higher in his irritation, nearly frightening several artisans into meeting their