I write apocrypha in Warhammer.

Chapter 141 Astrologer

Meanwhile, Cologne Star.

The Chops are building a black stone obelisk there.

With the magical technology of the Necron, the magical material of black stone was slowly constructed in an incredible way.

The oil guys were like a group of perverts watching a pole dancer, staring at the necromancer's every move, their energy concentrated as never before.

Not only that, there are at least twenty cameras placed around each Necromancer to ensure that any of their subtle movements can be recorded in all directions without blind spots.

Such exaggerated treatment is somewhat unbearable even for the Necrons who have been dead for countless years and only have copies of their consciousness left.

"The alien technician just deliberately moved the back of his head with his finger. Does it have any special meaning?" A Mechanicus sage asked curiously.

"I don't know, maybe it's some kind of ritual?" The colleague next to him put on a thoughtful expression.

"Some kind of subtle output adjustment?"

"Some kind of switch that switches states?"

The oil guys speculated one after another, and the discussion was very serious.

"I'm just embarrassed to be watched by you young races, not for any other reason!" The necromancer couldn't help but protest loudly, "Honestly, I understand the desire for knowledge of you young races. , but can you please stop being so exaggerated? This will only affect my work efficiency."

"It's incomprehensible. We were just observing and did not cause any substantial interference to your work." A mechanical priest said.

"When creatures with advanced minds feel embarrassed, they will indeed use certain actions to distract themselves or others." Another person explained.

"Are the Necrons also embarrassed? You are all made of metal, and your thoughts are composed of photon grids instead of nerve fibers. You shouldn't be affected by hormones." The oil guys said seriously.

"You, you... I hate you." The necromancer was so tortured that his mentality almost exploded.

They tried their best to simulate various emotional signals, just hoping to return to that original impulse, but in the end they were scarred by this group of ignorant humans.

The necromancer could only turn to his master for help: "Lord Trazin, I don't understand why you want to teach these young races that such technology transfer is not in compliance with our laws. This is one, one."

"An act of treason?" Trazin asked with a smile.

Although the meaning he wanted to express was very obvious, the necromancer did not dare to say this nonsense.

"This is a deal related to the future of our race. I have submitted the relevant report to the Recovery Committee. You just need to do it seriously. Don't worry about other things." Trazin comforted.

Now that his overlord has said so, the necromancer technician can only obey the order, endure the greedy eyes of the oil guys and countless cameras, and continue to work honestly.

After these long-term experiences over the past few days, the effects of soul metabolites have gradually become apparent.

The Infinite felt alive and intoxicated, as if he were the only living being in his entire race.

The investment in Weimu is totally worth it.

If other undead overlords could feel this feeling, they would definitely make the same choice as him, and Trazin didn't have to worry about this at all.

What worries Trazin now is that due to the disgraceful reputation he has accumulated among his colleagues, it is possible, or should be said to be a high probability, that other Necrons will not trust his report.

"What are you all doing? Stop all of you!"

However, at this moment, at the construction site of the Black Stone Obelisk, a Necron who did not know when he appeared shouted loudly.

When the other undead saw this, they immediately stopped what they were doing.

The oil guys on the side didn't dare to stop him, because the undead holding a long staff usually had a lofty status.

They were counting on these ribs to teach them their skills, but they didn't dare to offend them casually.

"Hail, Master Orikan."

A necromancy technician stood up and saluted the visitor.

"I know your masters are keen on dealing with humans, but transferring our technology to them is too much!"

The person who came was none other than Trazin's old friend and rival, the Necron's master of prophecy, the astrologer Orikan.

"I know, Master Orikan, but this is my lord's order. If you have any suggestions, you can talk to him personally." "Of course I will talk to him. I am here just to stop his stupidity. act!"

Orikan said, his tone unequivocal.

"Look who's here, Master Orikan Taizao."

The commotion caused by the astrologer had long since attracted Trazin's attention, and when he saw his old rival again, he couldn't help but want to show off.

"What's that title? Trazin, don't add random suffixes to my name." Orikan's tone was full of displeasure.

"Oh, you don't remember, do you? This is the nickname I gave you during college." Trazin reminded.

"A nickname you got in college? Such childish and boring behavior does sound like something you would do, but don't be ridiculous, how could you remember the details from such a long time ago?" Ourrican said disdainfully.

"Maybe I have this ability, dear Master Ourikan Taizao?" Trazin said with a smile.

"Stop your words, Trazin. I saw a picture of the future. The vortex is completely swallowed up by the subspace. What you do will mess up everything. So no matter what you are planning here, you must immediately Stop." Ourrican said seriously as he didn't have time to talk to him.

"Just like you foresaw my fate of being swallowed up by the Hive Fleet?" Trazin deliberately said sarcastically, "Oh, of course, you almost predicted it right, if that fleet didn't become my museum collection. "

Although that fleet was later awakened by the Little Knight, causing a scene in Trazin's museum.

"You know what caused the deviation. Your museum contains too many things that do not belong to the current time and space. For any prophet, it is like a cataract, and many details will be missing, leading to fate. It cannot be accurately observed." Ourrican argued, "But this time the situation is different. This time is not an insignificant personal fate, but a major event that can change the pattern of the galaxy."

"It's a perfect excuse, but it can't convince me." Trazin waved his hand, "Continue working, technicians, and ignore this guy."

Their boss gave the order, and the necromancy technicians continued to work hard.

The oil guy on the side also entered the onlooker mode again and ignored the two undead bosses.

"You are still so stubborn and arrogant, Trazin, I will report what you do to the Recovery Committee!"

The astrologer originally intended to use this as a blackmail.

As a result, the Endless One became happy after hearing this.

"Is it true? My dear Ourrican, you also know that many of our other colleagues do not accept my suggestions because they do not understand my work, but it is different for you. They will definitely be very willing. Listen to the reminders from the Great Prophet.”

This time Oerikan was immediately put out of control.

"You have a way to deal with the Three Saints? What are you planning with these humans?" he asked doubtfully.

"I'm investing in our future," Trazin replied.

He smiled and took the soul stone out of the machine and placed it in front of Orikan.

"This is, how is this possible?"

Orikan scanned the thing, and his voice suddenly became trembling.

Fragments of dreams and emotions, which had gone through such a long time, were extracted from the sinister and twisted subspace.

"A miracle, Ourrican, a miracle performed by that young human," Tarazin answered.

"What kind of smart boy is he?" Ourrican asked in surprise.

"That's right, otherwise why do you think I want to transfer these technologies? It's not all for our entire race." Trazin said proudly.

Although none of his fellow Necrons dislike Trazyn, he doesn't mind saving them.

"You almost screwed everything up, Trazin!"

Ourrican suddenly shouted.

That intense tone can even distract the oil guys who are immersed in Blackstone technology.

"What are you talking about, Ourrican? I have clearly found a way out for our race, and the price I paid is so insignificant, and yet you dare to accuse me of this?" Trazin suddenly became furious.

"He is indeed hope, Trazin, but I saw that future, that young man finally surrendered to Chaos, and the hope of our race is fading." The astrologer warned sternly.

(End of this chapter)