The Emperor’s Angel of Death

The engine's scream battled the intensifying howl of the wind under the cold, dual-moon glow of the forge world. Super-high-velocity dust particles, like the fingers of death, caressed the Stormbird in the frenzied storm, but this aircraft, specifically designed to operate in harsh environments, remained unfazed. Under the pilot's control, it steadily descended.

Inside the Stormbird's cockpit, Solzhenitsyn gazed out through the curved viewport. Slag mountains rose from the dunes and their trailing dust devils like rows of jagged teeth, cutting the horizon into a serrated edge, like the maw of a predator.

Guided by the landing signals, the Stormbird's engines roared triumphantly, drowning out the rushing wind and swirling dust.

Soon, with a screech from the landing gear, the Stormbird settled firmly on the ground. Red warning lights flashed, and the boarding ramp slowly lowered.

Stepping onto this landing point atop the highest peak of the mountain range, Solzhenitsyn heard the crunch of gravel underfoot. A chilling wind whipped sand into his face, as a group of figures, composed of steel and flesh, marched into formation.

Hundreds of Adeptus Mechanicus troops formed two lines, their corpse-like faces a mesh of targeting lenses and data cables. As they raised their guns, forming an archway, static crackled from the speakers on their chests.

"Welcome, Solzhenitsyn Alexey, Chapter Master—"

At this moment, a group of priests in red robes appeared, led by a Dominus Magos wielding a plasma battle-axe. He bowed very humbly to Solzhenitsyn.

"Welcome, esteemed Chapter Master, to this place."

Solzhenitsyn nodded slightly.

"Thank you, Magos Ajakko, no need for excessive ceremony."

The group then proceeded through the ranks of the Adeptus Mechanicus, heading towards a mountaintop fortress constructed of steel and concrete. Along the way, the Dominus Magos provided Solzhenitsyn with a detailed account of the battle situation in the slag mountain range, and recent events.

The overall command headquarters for the slag mountain range war zone was a true fortress. Upon entering, Solzhenitsyn saw massive gun turrets and patrolling automata everywhere. Avian transports constantly descended from the sky, bringing in or taking out personnel. Occasionally, massive transport aircraft arrived, delivering various needed supplies and equipment.

The command post was built on the highest peak of the slag mountain range, surrounded by cliffs and precipices. Besides the aerial routes, the only ground access was a huge elevator, capable of deploying personnel to a bunker outpost about six hundred meters below the command post.

After entering the high walls of the command post, Solzhenitsyn first saw many workshops illuminated by welding arcs and showers of sparks. Many severely damaged servo-skulls and combat robots, missing limbs, were waiting to be sent inside. There was also a three-story white building. Many wounded Adeptus Mechanicus troops lay on conveyor belts, slowly being fed into the building, where they would receive treatment and repair, and then be returned to combat.

A few minutes later, Solzhenitsyn stepped into the ground floor hall of the command tower, located at the heart of the fortress. His Terminators waited outside, only the company captains followed him in.

This hall was also filled with the typical Mechanicus style, appearing somewhat chaotic. Wires layered upon panels and pipes, hundreds of devices trembled, buzzed, and sparked. Screens flickered, countless scriptures scrolled by, and many robed Tech-Priests worked around the central platform. Noticing the entry of the massive Space Marines, they briefly looked up, then bent back down to continue their work.

This was something Solzhenitsyn had always found a bit perplexing. Machines, in theory, should be orderly and efficient, yet the Adeptus Mechanicus had developed an unusually casual cultural characteristic within their rigid machine worship. It seemed the concept of "disorder" simply didn't exist in their minds; anything could be placed anywhere.

Solzhenitsyn didn't stay long in the noisy hall, taking an elevator directly to the ninth floor of the tower.

As soon as he stepped out, he saw two company captains and several Magos-level Tech-Priests.

"Chapter Master."

Solzhenitsyn quickly walked to them, then looked at the object displayed on the massive analysis table.

These hideous mechanical xenos, he was both familiar with and alien to.

"This thing is called a Flayer. It is the most insane of these insane mechanical xenos."

After staring for a moment, Solzhenitsyn pointed to the humanoid machine, whose entire body was disassembled, and whose hands had huge claws.

"After killing their target, they drape the target's flesh and skin over themselves. This seems to come from a kind of memory circuit malfunction of the Necrons."

In fact, with the information from the Eldar, Solzhenitsyn could be said to be very knowledgeable about the Necrons. He knew that Flayers came from a virus called the Flayer Curse, which in turn came from a Star God that was completely killed by the Necrontyr.

Of course, he couldn't say that directly, he could only rephrase it.

At this moment, a Magos suddenly said in a rigid mechanical voice:

"Lord, do you know where their memory circuits are located? We examined their skulls in detail, but found no chips or anything of the kind."

"You'd better give up on researching this xenos. This requires a very long accumulation. Not to belittle everyone, but even forge worlds like Huangquan Eight, which have been studying Necron technology for a long time, only have a superficial understanding of the Necron structure. It would be more appropriate to put your energy into more useful things."

After speaking, Solzhenitsyn looked at Ninth Company Captain Surena.

"Did your company engage in a large-scale battle with the Necrons?"

"Yes, 10 warriors were killed in action."

"No need to blame yourself, this is not your fault. You have no experience fighting the Necrons. These alien machines have a strange phasing technology that allows them to travel freely between two spaces. If you don't know about it, it's easy to be caught off guard."

"The Chapter Master is right, they can always appear inexplicably within our lines."

Solzhenitsyn then picked up the remains of a scarab and examined it carefully. The others didn't know what he was looking for, but they didn't say anything, just waited quietly.

In fact, he was looking for the dynasty's symbol.

According to the information he saw with the Eldar, the Necrons are not a unified government. They are divided into many large and small dynasties. Each Necron tomb world belongs to a dynasty, and each dynasty has its own unique style and sigil, which are usually engraved on their warriors or machines.

Sure enough, Solzhenitsyn quickly discovered a symbol composed of two triangles and a ring. He silently memorized it, preparing to communicate remotely with Veronica after returning to orbit to see if she knew which dynasty this was. He remembered that Veronica had a lot of knowledge about the Necrontyr.

Knowing yourself and your enemy is always Solzhenitsyn's secret to winning every battle.