Even the well-versed Fabricator-General couldn't discern what these Alliance people were constructing.
All he could tell was that they were preparing to set up a massive energy array on the spot.
After a brief observation and recording, the Fabricator-General descended from his craft and walked toward the Universal Union's position.
"I am the Fabricator-General of Ata-Median!"
"I demand an audience with your Commander."
The Fabricator-General's words quickly drew attention.
Two Tyrants, which had been hauling cargo, halted their work and approached the Fabricator-General.
"Oh? Curious creations, bio-weapons?"
The array of scanners on the Fabricator-General swept the Tyrants inside and out in a matter of seconds.
"Is this something the Biological Sage concocted? Or perhaps the Universal Union's own technology?"
The Fabricator-General pondered silently.
But he quickly set the question aside.
A few accompanying Skitarii raised their flintlock guns, aimed at the Tyrants, and halted them.
Obviously, they could not allow such bio-weapons to approach their own Fabricator-General.
The Tyrants silently stopped, turned, and left.
The Fabricator-General and his party followed the Tyrants into the Universal Union camp.
"General, the first macro-detachment hasn't arrived yet; shall we wait a moment?"
A nearby Tech-Priest asked, clearly reluctant to let the Fabricator-General push further into enemy territory.
"The Universal Union is our partner, isn't it?"
The Fabricator-General replied calmly.
He said this both to his subordinates and to the Universal Union staff nearby.
Having said that, the Fabricator-General continued forward, leaning on his mechanical staff.
Fortunately, Ata-Median's Fabricator-General is not like some of his counterparts on other Forge Worlds, whose bodies are heavily encumbered by machinery and cannot act independently, relying entirely on Servitors.
Guided by the Tyrants, they pressed onward into the camp.
Along the way, the Fabricator-General saw numerous technological marvels that would impress even his discerning eye.
Things like the Tyrants and Pursuers—bio-weapons—and the armor worn by Alliance Soldiers that resembled Space Marine power armor.
The party even spotted countless autonomous micro-construction robots rapidly assembling something.
To the most rigid Tech-Priests, this scene would undoubtedly be considered desecration!
But for the already prepared Fabricator-General, the scene was merely tolerable.
He also believed that the Universal Union's technological level far exceeded what was on display.
The energy array under construction, even he could not decipher its purpose, served as the best proof.
This further solidified the Fabricator-General's decision to forge a partnership with the Universal Union.
Not long after, official Alliance personnel came to greet them.
Clearly, the Universal Union was surprised that Ata-Median's highest authority—the Fabricator-General, Fabricator-General—had arrived in person.
"Take me to your Commander."
When questioned by the staff, the Fabricator-General replied coolly.
He only needed to speak with someone whose rank matched his own, and he despised extracting information from these low-level personnel.
"Please have a seat; someone will see you shortly."
After temporarily ushering the Fabricator-General's party into a room,
the staff immediately contacted the fleet in space and reported the situation.
"These self-styled 'Alliance' folks have actually mastered autonomous machinery?"
The Fabricator-General stared at the ground-covering, spider-like Hex Automated Construction Robots, extended a mechanical tentacle, seized one, and began dissecting it.
"There isn't even a wetware computer inside?"
The Fabricator-General instantly recognized how this device differed from Imperial and Adeptus Mechanicus creations.
Most of the computational work in the latter two is delegated to wetware, and the so-called "wetware"
is essentially a modified human brain.
Among the various institutions, the Contemplator Terminal, often whispered about, is the most typical example of its use.
Continuing his dissection, the Fabricator-General quickly located the device's computing core.
A chip no larger than a fingernail.
It seemed like a relic from a distant dark age of technology, gleaming under the lights.
The Fabricator-General fell silent.
He had seen similar artifacts in some extremely ancient records.
All those records invariably pointed to an exceedingly dangerous creation.
"Men of Iron"
He glanced at the nearby Tech-Priests, who still had no idea what it meant.
The Fabricator-General reassembled the construction robot at breakneck speed.
"It seems this Alliance is more terrifying than I imagined."
He privately thought that a hint of regret surfaced, but it quickly dissipated.
This Ata-Median Fabricator-General, Fabricator-General, is not among the most dogmatic of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
To him, as long as knowledge can be obtained, even treading lightly into "desecrated" heretical fields is permissible.
After all, many other Forge Worlds act similarly.
Haven't you seen how Huangquan No.8 Forge World openly challenges the Mars Council, studying alien heretical tech, and yet nothing disastrous happens?
Isn't it simply because Huangquan No.8's Tech-Priests have drawn enough power from alien technology?
The Fabricator-General intends to follow Huangquan No.8's precedent, and naturally won't loudly brand the Universal Union as heretical.
He didn't keep the Fabricator-General waiting long.
Soon, a commotion arose at the doorway.
Looking up, a woman in a white dress entered the room.
What made the Fabricator-General's eyes widen even more was the man standing beside her.
"Ata-Median Fabricator-General, allow me to introduce myself: I am Avarax's Acting Governor, the Universal Union Archon, Alexia Ashford."
Alexia smiled and began speaking.
The Fabricator-General widened his mechanical ocular implant, ignoring Alexia and focusing on Marcus standing beside her.
"What is it, you seem surprised to see me?"
Marcus sat down calmly and asked.
"You're Marcus!?!"
The Fabricator-General shouted the name with precision.
"Oh? Where have you seen me before?"
Marcus didn't deny the name, but he also guessed why the Fabricator-General recognized him.
It was definitely connected to the flamboyant search for him a few years ago by Gene-Seed Primarch Guilliman and Archmagos Belisarius Cawl.
The instant it recognized that face, a storm of complex notions flashed through the Fabricator-General's cognitive core.
Just as Marcus had surmised, the Fabricator-General had indeed received information about him from Archmagos Cawl.
Not only that—Cawl had sent a signal to the Fabricator-Generals, High Adepts, and Archmagi of many Forge Worlds throughout the Pacific Segmentum:
"Find this human named Marcus; whoever locates him, I will entrust with certain special technologies."
That had been seven or eight years ago.
"Archmagos, why are you searching for this human?"
The Fabricator-General had once asked Cawl about issuing what amounted to a bounty.
Yet Cawl never gave a direct answer.
He simply kept stressing Marcus's importance.
The Fabricator-General had dispatched troops to locate Marcus, but in the end found nothing.
Gradually, the search parties were recalled.
Never had it imagined that the human Cawl had hunted so intently would now stand before it.
Meeting Marcus's calm yet curious gaze, the Fabricator-General pondered briefly, then slowly recounted everything above.
Though it omitted the part about having sent troops to trade him for technology.
"Belisarius Cawl—what does that fellow want with me? And Guilliman… he must be linked to the Emperor—"
After hearing the Fabricator-General's tale, Marcus's mind likewise raced with thoughts.
But he quickly shelved the matter for now and gave a brief self-introduction.
"I am the Planetary Governor of Avarax, leader of the League."
The Fabricator-General brimmed with questions.
According to Cawl's data, Marcus had been merely a human with some special abilities—how had he become a Planetary Governor so quickly?
And how had he come to command a war-fleet of such vast scale?
That level of force was beyond any Planetary Governor—indeed beyond even a Sector Governor.
The Fabricator-General was about to voice its queries.
Marcus raised a hand to cut it off and stood. "Construction outside is nearly finished; our new partners need to see it."
With that, Marcus and Alexia headed out.
While they talked, swarms of auto-constructors had already erected the Wormhole frame and power arrays.
After extensive real-world use, the League could now build a new Wormhole in mere hours, given sufficient materiel.
The Fabricator-General followed and, upon stepping outside, immediately saw a ring-shaped facility dozens of metres tall standing upon the plain.
Around the site stood rank upon rank of fusion-power units.
So much energy could drive a dozen Warlord-class Titans.
Puzzled, the Fabricator-General watched every reactor come online.
Brilliant blue light converged upon the ring.
The radiance merged into an azure, lake-like ripple.
"Wormhole complete—network link established!"
a League technician reported.
"A Webway gate!?"
Seeing the Wormhole so close, the well-travelled Fabricator-General at once linked it to the Aeldari Webway gates.
"You possess the means to open a Webway gate?"
it could not help but ask.
Yet it immediately answered its own question: "No—if Ata-Median had a Webway gate, the Drukhari would have come long ago."
Everything pointed to an impossible fact: these people had created a Webway gate from nothing.
"A Webway gate?" Marcus smiled.
"This isn't an Aeldari—or Old One—creation, but genuine League technology: Wormhole technology!"
As he spoke, a colossal figure strode from the distant Wormhole.
It was unmistakably a League Titan Mech.
"A Titan?"
The Fabricator-General was struck speechless.
First non-Warp superluminal travel, then Webway-like mass-teleportation, and finally a Titan-scale engine of war… wave after wave of shock that centuries of life had never prepared it for.
"What is that thing?"
Composing itself, the Fabricator-General pressed the enigmatic man before it.
"A portal technology akin to the Webway, yet different. The League can build Wormholes wherever suitable, link them to others on distant worlds, and achieve near-instantaneous transit."
Marcus offered no further details; he trusted the Fabricator-General's cognitive core to digest what it saw.
"This isn't the place to talk—come with us."
He turned toward the Wormhole.
The Fabricator-General steadied itself and rapidly processed Marcus's words. If true, this "Wormhole" technology could convulse the entire galaxy—mass-produced, Warp-independent superluminal gates, the very thing the Emperor had sought ten thousand years ago!
"A miracle—this is surely a miracle sent by the omnissiah!"
Some Tech-Priests were already chanting binary prayers, praising the machine god.
The Fabricator-General silenced its over-excited subordinates and followed Marcus.
As they advanced, the Fabricator-General and the Tech-Priests scanned the Wormhole with every instrument they carried.
At its threshold Marcus stopped the zealots about to step through bare-bodied and pointed them to nearby vehicles.
The one drawback of League Wormholes: their violent energies could injure unprotected flesh; transit was safest inside shielded transports.
"General, what are our next—"
Just before boarding, the Fabricator-General received a message from First Macro-Cohort on site.
"Hold position until I return."
It had too many questions right now to spare thought for its Titan Legion.
The vehicle rolled into the Wormhole; the Fabricator-General and the Ata-Median Tech-Priests stared wide-eyed, their instruments frantically logging every datum until the water-like surface swallowed them and a kaleidoscope of visions swept them away.
Several hours later, in the spire office of Central Hive on Avarax.
Marcus was watching Fabricator-General and the Tech-Priests under his command take their leave.
"Do you think these Adeptus Mechanicus personnel from Ata-Median will keep our secrets?"
Alexia at his side couldn't help asking.
In the past few hours the two of them had led the Fabricator-General and his party through the Wormhole to Avarax in the Universal Union's core zone, showing them quite a bit of the Universal Union's internal situation.
Although in name Ata-Median was now a new ally of the Universal Union, after all they had only just reached a cooperation agreement and still knew little about each other; Alexia remained uneasy about exposing so much so soon.
Marcus shook his head unconcernedly.
"No matter. First, the Psychic Contract binds them; second, even from a simple cost-benefit view they won't do anything detrimental to the Universal Union."
Just as he said, the Universal Union fleet was currently floating in the very star system where Ata-Median was located.
If it really came to blows, even with a Titan Legion stationed there Ata-Median would be no match for the Universal Union.
To take a step back, even without using military threats, the Fabricator-General and the others were no fools.
After seeing the technologies the Universal Union displayed, they definitely knew whose thigh to hug.
Mars? Terra?
Who are they? We of Ata-Median aren't familiar with them; the Universal Union is our long-time partner.
In short,
From now on Ata-Median will regularly supply the Universal Union with various war materials, or directly dispatch Skitarii—even Titan Legions—to assist the Universal Union in war.
And what Ata-Median asks of the Universal Union is simple: provide sufficiently unique technologies in exchange.
Even in a Warhammer universe where war is everywhere, fighting is not the only way to solve problems.
As long as there is no fundamental conflict and both sides are smart, the Universal Union will not find it hard to locate partners.
Today it is Ata-Median; in the future more and more worlds will follow suit.
He walked over to a huge holoprojector, and a vast map of the Milky Way unfolded before Marcus and Alexia.
The chart fused the fragments of memory Marcus retained from before his dimensional travel, the Universal Union's recent explorations of the Pacific Segmentum, plus data generously provided by Biological Sage Halifas.
Though not exquisitely detailed, it was still an extremely precious star map.
From this map one could clearly see the overall situation of the entire galaxy.
"Grimoire, Corsiaminus, Solemn-One, Ashk-II, Ata-Median—"
Marcus read out the names of the planets one by one.
These worlds all lay southwest of the Pacific Segmentum and the Sabbath Star Cluster, the Universal Union's current primary direction of expansion.
The reason for choosing this direction was simple: to the north of the Universal Union lay the Ork Empire.
To the northeast was Segmentum Solar, the central region of the Imperium of Man.
To the east was the Storm Zone, currently plagued by the tyranids.
Only the west and south were suitable directions for expansion.
Looking at the vast galaxy on the map and the countless worlds within it,
"Time, time—"
Marcus couldn't help sighing.
At present the Universal Union was still holed up in the small Sabbath Star Cluster, its scale far below those true major powers.
The Universal Union had never lacked potential; what it lacked was the precious time needed to realize that potential.
"Since Ata-Median is secured, our next primary target will be those two Warp storms."
Marcus focused on two areas flickering with eerie red-violet light within the Sabbath Star Cluster on the map.
They were the permanently raging Warp Storm Zones named the "Mannazod Drift" and the "Euphrates Tempest".
These two Warp storms happened to cut across the center of the Sabbath Star Cluster, dividing it into upper and lower halves.
This made conventional Warp navigation within the cluster very difficult, forcing detours.
"Warp storms?"
Alexia frowned.
"Our ships don't use Warp drives; would they still be affected?"
"The Warp and this world are tightly linked—two sides of the same mirror."
Marcus sighed again.
"Even technologies from other worlds must still pass the Warp's test here; there's no avoiding it."
After speaking, Marcus transmitted a fresh set of data to Alexia.
"This is experimental data from the exploration fleet. Tests show that when our Shockpoint Engines, Jump Drives and other FTL systems approach Warp Storm Zones, anomalous readings appear; they can't enter FTL directly. Only after first traveling a certain distance under conventional thrust will they return to normal."
A Warp storm does not mean a storm inside the Warp.
Rather, it is destructive energy from the Warp breaking through in some special way and pouring into realspace.
Although most Warp storms disperse after a short duration, a small portion linger indefinitely.
The most typical examples are the Eye of Terror and the Maelstrom.
The "Mannazod Drift" and "Euphrates Tempest" within the Sabbath Star Cluster are of this type as well.
"Have we tried entering FTL first and then simply flying over these two regions?"
Alexia asked, skimming the experimental data in her hands.
"Too risky—I vetoed it."
Although the Universal Union's FTL travel has nothing to do with the Warp, who could guarantee nothing would go wrong?
Especially in dangerous zones like Warp storms.
With no effective countermeasures against the Chaos Powers within the Warp, the Universal Union had to treat anything related to Warp Chaos with utmost caution.
"These two Warp storms are temporarily blocking our expansion toward the north of the Sabbath Star Cluster; we have to find a way to deal with them."
"Has the Warp research from the Alien vs. Predator world produced results?"
Alexia asked curiously; otherwise she couldn't see why Marcus would want to tackle the two Warp storms now.
"Not yet."
Marcus shook his head. Although with Librarian Kahurangi of the Charcarodons helping, the Universal Union had made some progress on whether "souls" and "the Warp" existed in other worlds, turning that into a technology capable of handling Warp storms was still a long way off.
"Then what are you planning?"
Alexia was rather curious—what miraculous method could Marcus come up with this time to deal with a Warp storm?
Nelvokov.
It is a remote planet lying southwest of the Pacific Segmentum, beyond the Sabbath Star Cluster.
Even the sacred light of the Astronomican can scarcely reach so distant a place.
Naturally, the Imperium of Man has only catalogued its existence, never attempting colonization or development.
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A planet forgotten by nearly everyone.
Yet right now, a sizable Alliance Fleet—over twenty warships—has arrived in orbit above Nelvokov.
Aboard the flagship, a space carrier, Hunk's Death Squad listens to the mission briefing.
Marcus's hologram appears before them.
He glances across Hunk, Krauser, Leon, and Ada Wong.
Without small talk, Marcus transmits the mission details to their rig terminals and gives a concise rundown.
"Your task is to act as the forward recon team: survey Nelvokov's surface and clear the way for the main landing force.
More importantly, the underground—not the surface—is what you must focus on."
Marcus offers no further explanation; the hologram soon fades.
Curious, the Death Squad opens the files in their hands—
the truth about Nelvokov.
Several hours later, fully prepped for action,
the four members board a small dropship and streak toward the planet's surface.
With them ride ten of the latest-model Pursuers in the cargo bay, ready to serve as cannon fodder when needed.
Although all four hail from the Resident Evil World and once viewed BOWs differently,
after nearly seven years in the Universal Union they now treat BOWs no differently than—
well, than guns.
"Krauser, you're bringing that thing along?"
In the cabin, a noticeably seasoned Leon looks at the "Lone Wolf" leaning in the corner.
"Every extra tool helps."
Krauser lounges, legs crossed, twirling his combat knife.
"And for this job, you can never have too much cannon fodder, right?"
Leon nods, offering no rebuttal.
After reading the Nelvokov files, they all know how brutal this mission could be.
Even as a recon run, one slip and they could literally be reduced to ash.
"Relax, we'll definitely—"
Leon starts to raise a flag, but a chilling stare locks onto him, cutting the words short.
Beside him, Ada Wong in form-fitting red battle armor speaks coolly.
"Nearly landed—check your gear."
Though Leon has spent six or seven years in the Universal Union, surviving countless life-and-death fights,
he still falls in line the moment Ada Wong speaks.
Krauser barely notices; he's long since grown used to their bickering that's really public flirting.
As for Captain Hunk,
the other three are accustomed to his habitual silence.
Banishing the last of their levity, the four begin inspecting weapons and equipment with meticulous care.
Unlike ordinary Alliance Soldiers, these elite psychokinetics sport far superior gear.
They wear special armor forged from Space Marine power armor, CMC plating, and senior-engineer suits.
Slimmer than a Space Marine's hulking plate,
it is form-fitting yet astonishingly tough, rivaling standard power armor,
and amplifies the wearer's physique in tandem with Psionics.
Packed with integrated functions, it is the finest infantry combat armor the Universal Union can currently produce.
"Rumble—"
Minutes later the dropship's engines roar, jetting scorching flame as it slows, extends its struts, and settles.
The team doesn't disembark at once; instead they move to the rear hold to awaken the ten Pursuers.
Thanks to years of Alliance tech wizardry, the Pursuers have been thoroughly revamped.
Once their parasite-ravaged skin was hideous and rotting,
but after biotech upgrades derived from the Precursor Civilization in the Pacific Rim world, that flaw is gone.
Their physiques have been further strengthened,
and with embedded AI Chips the creatures can be remotely directed or handle simple tasks autonomously.
"Move out—mission starts now."
With Pursuers in the lead, the vigilant Death Squad opens the ramp and steps onto Nelvokov's barren soil.
After a cautious sweep they relax; the worst-case ambush on arrival hasn't materialized.
The four exhale in relief.
Apparently the planet's masters are still asleep.
"Initiating atmospheric scan—recording."
They toss out an auto-survey pod and begin erecting a rudimentary mini-base around the dropship.
High-power probes capable of piercing the deep crust are unloaded.
They must locate where Nelvokov's masters slumber.
A while later a comm-call from the fleet in orbit patches through.
"How's the recon?"
The fleet Commander—apparently a native of the Warhammer World, though unfamiliar to Leon—asks.
"Surface sweep complete; no target found within radius of landing point,"
Captain Hunk reports.
"Probes are now going sub-surface."
"I'll deploy more recon squads planet-wide to speed things up."
With that the brisk Commander cuts the link.
Additional dropships descend, scattering across Nelvokov to scan in depth.
With the big survey engines at full power, the Universal Union soon pinpoints its objective:
a vast ancient complex of black ruins buried far underground.
Its owners: the slumbering sixty-million-year-old overlords—the Necrons!
Yes, Nelvokov is a Necron Tomb World—
The Necrons' predecessor, the Necrontyr, were an intelligent species sixty million years ago.
Back then, the Old Ones were the true Overlords of the galaxy, sowing the seeds of life and wisdom, enlightening one species after another.
Legend says that, due to the lethal radiation of the star in the Necron home system, their lives were extremely short—only a few decades, even shorter than ordinary humans.
Even after developing spacefaring technology and founding colonies on many worlds, this short-lived flaw clung to the Necron like a shadow.
The Necron once asked the Old Ones for aid, hoping they could cure their "short lives" for reasons unknown.
But for some unknown reason, the Old Ones ultimately refused to solve the Necron's lifespan problem.
And so, the resentful Necron turned hostile toward the Old Ones.
As the Necron civilization itself kept fracturing and waging civil wars, to reunite the race once more,
the ruling Triarch joined all the dynasties, branding the Old Ones as enemies of the entire species; what followed is well known.
Predictably, the Necron were crushed by the Old Ones and driven back to their homeworld, bathing once more in the radiation of their colonizing star.
Then the true gods of the material universe—the C'tan—appeared before the Necron.
Among them, the Deceiver Mephet'ran brought the Necron the technology of biotransference, tricking the Triarch into believing it would cure their race's short-lived curse.
But in truth, when the last Necron was biotransferred, the entire species was already destroyed.
The newborn Necrons were merely metal machines carrying the personality and memory data of the Necron, enslaved by their C'tan masters.
Eventually, the C'tan coveted the souls of the Old Ones, seeking to devour them to empower themselves.
Thus the most savage war in the Milky Way's history—the War in Heaven—erupted.
The C'tan and the Necrons fought the Old Ones and the psychic races they had uplifted, such as the Krork and the Aeldari.
No war waged by any later race could match the scale of the War in Heaven.
Even the AI revolt that swept humanity's Golden Age paled beside the War in Heaven.
The War in Heaven drastically reshaped the face of the galaxy.
In the end, the War in Heaven concluded with the Old Ones' defeat.
But just as the C'tan gorged themselves on the souls of the Old Ones, the Necrons chose to rise in revolt.
Bolstered by super-weapons, they shattered most of the C'tan into shards and imprisoned them in various devices, powering engines of war large and small.
At a terrible, unknown cost, the Necrons even slew the C'tan Llandu'gor, spawning the Flayer curse that would haunt them ever after.
Having paid so dreadful a price to slay their gods, the Necrons could no longer face the rising ancient Aeldari empire.
To evade their edge, after a series of prognostications about the future,
the Necrons, under the order of the Silent King Szarekh, sank into a sixty-million-year slumber.
They would wait until the rise and extinction of the flesh-born species,
until the turn and ruin of the stars themselves,
then the Necrons would return in force to reclaim the galaxy that was rightfully theirs.
This was part of the intelligence on the Necrons that the four members of the Death Squad received from Marcus when they accepted the mission.
The dossier also repeatedly stressed how dangerous the Necrons were.
Compared to the already terrifying tyranids and Orks,
the Necrons were even more hazardous.
Even the most basic Necron warrior, like the liquid-metal T-1000 from the movie Terminator,
can automatically repair its own damage.
If the damage is too severe, the warrior can teleport back to the tomb's repair foundry, be fully restored, and rejoin the battlefield.
In short, Necron units are nearly unkillable cockroaches; even tyranids have to bow before them.
And their weapons are even more outrageous.
Even the gauss weapon of the lowliest warrior can disintegrate almost any material in realspace, breaking it down to the atomic level and drawing the ash back into the gun's muzzle.
All in all, every Necron combat unit is a stat monster—high defense, strong regeneration, massive damage.
Perhaps their only real weaknesses are their slow movement, low agility, and occasional mechanical malfunctions.
"Get ready. The drill has reached maximum depth and is about to enter the region of the Necron tomb."
Captain Hunk reminded the others in a deep voice.
Beside them stood a gigantic drill rig, its huge bit boring ever deeper into the planet's crust.
Necron tombs are supposed to lie in an inter-dimensional layer, not directly exposed to realspace.
Yet the Alliance fleet has been parked in orbit over Nelvokov for so long, dispatching troops to scan and survey.
Still, the Necrons have not reacted.
That only suggests two possibilities.
Either the Necrons on this tomb world have already perished during the long sixty million years,
or the Necron Overlord ruling this tomb is watching the Alliance dig right above him, waiting to spring the trap.
Whichever it is, the Alliance must make contact with the Necron ruins deep underground.
And the four members of the Death Squad shoulder that vital duty.
Rumble—
The giant drill let out a piercing roar, then shut down.
The instruments showed the probe had reached its limit and touched an open space.
Clearly, they had opened a link between the surface and the tomb.
After some quick operations, the probe was retracted.
Fortunately, it was intact and undamaged.
That counted as good news.
A fully-sealed exploration pod stood ready beside the shaft, waiting to carry the team into the depths.
"Time to descend."
The black, silent shaft looked like a passage straight to hell.
Instinct screamed at the four to back away from the hole, to refuse the descent.
"Where are we now?"
Leon asked in the rumbling, descending sealed cabin.
Half an hour had passed since they began their descent, but the view outside the sealed cabin remained an unchanging, endless rock wall.
Hunk was as silent as ever, while Ada Wong closed her eyes to rest.
"Not yet."
Only Krauser answered Leon's question.
"According to the instruments, we still need at least another hour to enter the underground cavern that was scanned."
"Alright."
Leon shrugged and began his last hour of relaxation.
However, despite calling it relaxation, the four members of the squad were still meticulously reviewing the documents in their hands, specifically the information on the Necrons' troop types.
The most basic Necron Warriors, Immortals as heavy infantry units, Lychguards serving as Overlord bodyguards, and Deathmarks, known as the "Galaxy's Strongest Snipers."
There were also various complex types of Canoptek constructs.
They were about to face one of the most terrifying forces in The Galaxy.
An hour later.
The unchanging scenery outside the sealed cabin finally shifted.
The original rock layers were gradually being replaced by a dark, metallic substance.
Faint, eerie green energy veins flowed within it.
This meant they were about to reach their target location.
A usually silent Hunk finally spoke, reiterating the main objective of this mission to the others.
"We are a reconnaissance unit. We don't need to engage the enemy directly. We just need to place scanning equipment around the perimeter of the ruins and record the surrounding environment.
Besides us, other teams have also entered this cavern area and will be spread out to complete their tasks."
Despite his words, the other three still looked very solemn.
Exploring such completely unknown ruins, no one knew what would happen the next second.
"Rumble~"
The sealed cabin finally broke through the last obstruction, plunging into the massive cavern below.
Through the observation glass, the four squad members could clearly see a colossal ruin, black with specks of green, standing silently on the rock strata.
Its scale, though not comparable to a Hive City, definitely covered an area of nearly 100,000 square kilometers.
No one knew how many Necrons slumbered within.
"Get ready, we're about to land."
All four squad members stood up. The sealed cabin's bottom ejected retro-thruster flames, slowly touching down.
As the hatch opened and they stepped out of the sealed cabin, the magnificent aura of the Necrons tomb ruins washed over them.
But within this grandeur, there was also an eerie silence.
Even clad in battle armor, the four squad members could feel a bone-chilling cold sweeping over their entire bodies.
"Don't just stand there, move."
Hunk was the first to react, beginning to direct the ten Pursuers in the sealed cabin to transport various complex instruments to the ground.
"The surface scan could only detect the general situation of this cavern. We need to scan further to draw a detailed map for the subsequent entry of the main forces."
It was only at times like these that Hunk would speak a little more.
After meticulously activating each detection instrument, the first step of the four-person squad's mission was completed.
Faint pulses radiated throughout the entire underground cavern, and in conjunction with other teams in different parts of the cavern, an extremely detailed map was being drawn.
Watching the machines operate fully automatically, Captain Hunk then gave the squad members another mission objective.
That was to collect the black stone constructs in the cavern.
In fact, these black stones were actually the main objective of the Universal Union's extensive operation this time.
"Warp, I wonder what exactly it is."
While collecting black stone minerals growing irregularly from the rock wall with various tools, Leon muttered softly.
Although he had performed many missions in various worlds since joining the Universal Union, fighting Navi and Pandora beasts in the Avatar world, and facing the Precursor Civilization and those giant bio-weapons in the Pacific Rim world.
In the Warhammer World, he had even fought Orks, tyranids, and Genestealers.
But for the Warp and the legendary "Chaos," Leon and the others had never experienced them.
"Why think so much? We just need to complete the mission, and the data also states that these black stones can suppress the influence of the Warp to some extent."
Krauser multitasked, controlling the Lone Wolf, which was infected by the Las Plagas Parasite, to mine minerals, while also keeping busy himself, constantly observing the surroundings.
Even Ada Wong warned him, saying,
"Don't be a curious baby all the time."
Her past experience as a double agent made Ada Wong understand that sometimes, curbing one's curiosity was the best strategy.
"Alright, alright, I'll keep my mouth shut."
Leon buried his head back into hard work.
With the assistance of ten Pursuers, a large amount of black stone deposits was quickly excavated and piled together.
"Why is that tomb ruin still silent?"
During a brief rest, Leon looked up at the magnificent ruins in the distance.
Due to the special nature of Necrons' building materials, their scanning instruments couldn't penetrate them.
Therefore, until now, the Universal Union's forces still knew nothing about the situation inside the tomb ruins.
"I don't know if it's my imagination, but I feel like something inside that ruin is watching us."
"Bad omen."
Ada Wong replied with a lazy voice.
Shrugging, Leon was about to continue mining black stone.
However, the feeling of being watched intensified.
It was as if some creature was in a position around them, biding its time to hunt them.
And Leon chose to trust this feeling; in the past, it had saved him many times.
"We're being watched, be careful of your surroundings."
Leon didn't act rashly but informed the other three squad members of his special feeling through the secret communication channel.
"Location?"
"The exact location is uncertain, but it's definite that the opponent is very close to us."
Since Leon was using the emergency communication channel, the others didn't ask too many questions.
Instead, they maintained their normal movements while rapidly communicating countermeasures.
Krauser quietly approached the pile of detection instruments, glanced at the screen, and immediately said,
"The detectors haven't found any hostile targets."
"No, something has definitely targeted us."
Leon's tone was firm, and at the same time, the feeling of being watched continued to intensify.
It was as if a mechanical claw was already reaching out for him.