23 War Races
The Halls of Gorthan were filled with the busy and frantic movements of Old Ones. Twenty different reports had come in from different subsectors, indicating an ambush from the Necrontyr. The Great Counsel had convened in an emergency once again with one goal; perform a grand divination of the events leading up to this abnormal set of counterattacks from the Necrontyr.
"*HISS* I've TOLD you before. The Necrontyr has no connection to the Warp. They have no Psykers!" an Honored One refuted an accusation with annoyance.
"And yet, they have access to the Webway dimension! OUR dimension, BUILT, from the Warp!" Another Honored One countered back.
"ORDER!" Weklor commanded loudly.
Weklor wore the attire of a High Counselman, with the highest artistry of the Old One race. He wore a headband of black and red leather, with gold ornaments handing down from it along his forehead. The other High Counsel members were sitting beside him but were distracted by different psychic communications happening across the Warp.
"We have lost contact with Alberlion-9." The second high Counselman stated solemnly.
Weklor gritted his teeth secretly and clenched his hand in frustration. It wasn't supposed to be like this. The Necrontyr were never a threat to the Old Ones, but now it seemed as if they were completely new creatures. They had bodies of Necrodermis metal and seemed to never stay down no matter how many different types of attacks were used.
From the perspective of a psyker, they were dead already. None of these new Necrontyr had any soul signature or at least none they have come across so far. And then... there were the C'tan. If Weklor had known that the prototype body he had used to kill The Great Spirit was built for these beings, he would not have been so hasty to discard it! He had secretly determined to find time to go back and get it.
"Let's not hesitate any longer. Let's begin divination of recent events among the Necrontyr." Weklor said to the crowd.
A ceremony started, which used a captured Necrodermis as a sacrificial medium and the seven High Counselmen as drivers, to simulate the history of the Materium. In only twenty minutes, the entire Great Counsel had watched the events that unfolded and the tragedy of the Necrontyr. With great horror, many of the Honored Ones watched the images of the C'tan.
"Do you think that these C'tan are similar to the Great Spirit?" Gorvor raised the question.
"It's possible," Weklor commented in thought.
"How should we fight against beings with the ability to reshape planets?" An Honored One asked in concern.
"The Warp, did you not hear Honored One Gorvor's record when encountering one of them?" The first High Councilmen answered.
"I do not think we are their match. When I was shielding my command-ship, it felt like Iash'uddra, was not forcing anything too heavily. It was as if it was enjoying watching me struggle. I estimate that it would take 7-8 Honored Ones to evenly combat a C'tan." Gorvor added from the side.
"I suggest that the Great Counsel undertakes to build an army of their own," Weklor suggested.
"What are you suggesting, 5th Councilmen?" The 3rd High Councilmen asked.
Weklor stood up from his High Counsel seat and walked with poise in front of the rest of the assembly.
"In my younger days, as I'm sure many of you have also done, I seeded planets with the lives of new races," Weklor spoke clearly.
"Let us seed a new set of races. We are the OLD ONES! We have created countless races across this universe! We are a race of gods and our culture is of glory so astounding, none will ever be greater!"
Weklor raised his arms passionately and many of the Honored Ones within the hall were moved by his words.
"But, to design a race purely to fight our wars. Is this glorious?" Gorvor stood up, opposing Weklor's momentum as best he could, though not much.
"I know your concerns Gorvor," Weklor commented with a fake smile.
"But I can promise you, Honored Ones of the Great Counsel. Our race will never be seen as evil architects of war races. But as the defenders of all life now and for the future of the universe!" Weklor finished, tapping his emerald brown staff of Aztec carvings on the ground, making sparks of red pulse out in an emphasis of power.
Murmurs spread through the crowd of the gathered Honored Ones and a silent vote was tallied together. The corresponding High Councilmen stood one after another and announced the standing of their respective star sectors for this proposal.
"We are For." The 1st Councilman announced with his right arm raised.
"We are Against." The 2nd Councilman announced with his left arm raised.
"We are For."
"We are For."
"We are Against."
"We are Against."
The tallies were done with the vote hanging on 3-3 for and against. With only Weklor's final vote as the 5th High Councilmen remaining. He smiled at Gorvor and announced his sector's standing.
"We are For."
The Vote Passed 4-3 in favor of Weklor's proposal. The Old Ones of the Great Counsel would now begin plans to design 7 war races, each under a High Councilman and a star sector.
...
The 'Abyss', Planet Y35-BO
Arlow remained trapped within the metal confines of a broken C'tan body near the center of the planet. His soul still flickers among the devouring properties of the Mytter core, in fact, the flame of his soul had grown bigger since before. His remaining consciousness would flicker in and out, leaving him to see time as an unjointed connection of time skips in his thinking.
But from the few times he had regained consciousness, he had been at peace more than ever before. He knew that his emergency operations on his soul had succeeded in merging his experimental Mytter title into his soul. His soul was no longer human, or perhaps he should say he was something completely new now. His soul had merged with the liquid plasmatic title of Mytter through a series of complex and dangerous hurdles, leaving behind a literal soul flame.
His soul was now a flame, eternally burning. He had managed to direct his 'Truth' ability towards the center of his soul, linking the title he had surgically inserted. He would not have had the courage to attempt this unless he had been put in the situation he had. He had managed to replicate a controlled environmental loop, where the same reaction that created the Immaterium would continue within himself endlessly. A small big bang was happening within his soul at every moment, increasing a special psychic energy only he could use. His soul, after almost being smothered out by the darkness of the Mytter, had survived the surgery with complete success.
He constantly consumed the Mytter in the void, the Mytter in the C'tan body he was in, to continue to grow. There should be no theoretical limit to his growth and as long as he had Mytter to consume, he would grow. When he had assimilated the Mytter in this current body, perhaps a new psychic dimension like the Immaterium would be born. He was not entirely sure, but one thing was certain.
He will never going to stop growing.
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(AI-Generated Image of C'tan Body Arlow From the patreon Here)
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