I woke up sometime later, feeling my throat dry and my mind having been trampled by a dozen elephants.

Not that pleasant, in hindsight.

Also, I was almost certain that C'tan buried somewhere in this crypt was fucking with me.

"Faithful, come here." I spoke in my mind.

My old friend was gone, and so were his robes and various tools he usually carried. And most limbs.

A scarecrow with three limbs crawled hesitantly in front of me. "Yes, Lord Pef." he answered in my mind too. He lacked a vox box anyway.

"What do you remember, in the past hours?" I asked curious.

"... Error. Blocked and quarantined files. Resuming new persona, as per Clavis directive Sigma991. I recall temporal fields...graviton particles in over kill quantities. Ships exploding. Xenos ships...Eldar. Warp phenomena possible. Unit compromised." he decanted in a string of flat declarations.

I tapped his cog-shaped Rosarius and it simply turned to dust and scattered in a falling mist. Not so invulnerable, after all.

"What about the craft you were in?" I asked a bit worried.

"Fury Interceptor, critical structural damage. Machine Spirit corrupted, purging algorithm initiated. Plasma reactor overloaded. Ion Shield overloaded. Failure imminent." he explained in a story telling mode, although the state of his body told enough.

Well then. Hopefully they won't be able to recover much from the starfighter.

Going by what I remembered, there were some kind of dimensional fields around that nice spire, so it was most likely not destroyed. No matter, I will just have to try again and again.

A thousand bombs and torpedoes if I had to, cleansing the mad Eldar and even better fueling Ynnead's birth with their deaths.

As a God of Death, that Eldar godling drew power from death itself, and I possibly contributed quite a bit with my own small efforts.

I did have a kill count in the billions, as a low estimate.

But I needed to get it much higher. Plenty of enemies for humanity, and each of their deaths, yet another gift to a big power.

Hopefully, some of that will also reflect back on me, and increase my standing among the galactic powers. The Mechanicus was great, and they surely liked me a little by now, but it wasn't enough.

I did have someone who might help. Just a mind call away.

"It's me, the nice stranger everyone talks about." I sent towards Trazyn.

"Oh? I am quite certain the Bone Kingdom still stands, favor trader. What is it now, yet another foolish quest? That Dawn sword is no use to me. And the Enslaver bone needs too much work!" the Necron Lord complained like a big child.

"Let me tell you a story, my friend. Not long ago, a Mechanicus priest stumbled upon Commorragh, the famous dark city. And he called in for help, detonating an Exterminatus-grade weapon just inside the central cavern of the city. But, somehow the explosion was contained and deflected away, damaging a thousand Eldar ships and burning a few unprotected sectors. Interested?" I asked in a wry tone.

Trazyn seemed confused for a few seconds. "Dark Eldar...they do have interesting artifacts indeed. Almost like..."

"Exactly like Gheden, the crownworld of a certain Necron Dynasty. So upon this news, what do you propose, mighty Trazyn?" I wondered quite curious.

Why not turn my defeat into a memorable drama, and sell tickets?

Well, a single ticket, but for a very good price.

"I don't enjoy travelling, even to witness such a spectacle. That Webway makes my skin crawl. It is infected with all kinds of dregs and low-level creatures. And I suppose you want something in exchange?" he asked in a worried voice.

I smiled in victory. "Well, I do have anything I need right now. But for those allies of mine, a rugged high yield reactor, that you certainly have already. In Mechanicus STC format, on a dataslate. Don't want my agents burned alive for something this minor, like a heretical xeno invention. " I demanded shamelessly, while also locking on his position in my mind, for the obvious next part.

"I don't have such an STC slate...oh. One just appeared on my work coffin. Very convenient!" he exclaimed, perhaps a little surprised.

"Now, onto serious business. There is a place and time were someone with skill and patience might acquire a potent relic called the Soulspear. The special vortex weapon used by Primarch Dorn. In the same place, there will be a huge space hulk and a handful of abandoned battle barges. Now, if those barges were to be saved, for a friend of mine, you can keep the spear. I hear it can kill Daemon Princes in one blow." I explained patiently.

Trazyn would have to bite, because this was true history. He wouldn't care about ships.

"Is this a trick? You don't want a real relic?" he asked me cautiously.

Well, I did give away Sanguinius spear, what use would I have for another?

"Sadly, I don't have psyker powers, so it is just a big stick for me. But you have your own Fulgrim, so it should work." I whispered in his mind, a bit cautiously.

I could hear the wheels turning in his mind. Was it a trap? Another scheme?

"I don't like it. Too cheap, if what you say it's true. How do I even know if it works like you say, stranger?" he demanded a bit more aggressively.

I hummed deep in thought. What else could I ask from the mad genius? Wait, I did have a ton of Eldar weapons...and a better scientist than anyone in the Mechanicus ready to help.

"Okay. I will send a few artifacts that you can keep. But I want STC schematics for a simple design with same abilities, or close enough." I replied curtly, and began choosing exotic Eldar weapons and armor, and a few human ones, like the Flare Shield and the Conversion Beam Gun.

Then, I even added that Jokaero ring with the laser beam. Mass-produced digital weapons would be great, if possible. I couldn't recharge my ring anyway, and the Inquisition might track it somehow.

An STC container filled with artifacts arrived at Trazyn's doorstep, more than a few items, but I could be generous. I did have tons of loot, that my Astartes buddies have just grabbed from those sneaky Eldar pirates.

"Someone has been having fun, it seems. There is fresh blood on these weapons, even Astartes blood." the Necron Lord commented a bit amused.

I took a small break to check on Drazak, which was already mobilizing fleets and battling the first Hive fleets. Winning easily for now, but it won't last.

Thousands, then millions then billions of Tyranids will converge on Drazak, and the finale will be the same. Another blackstone mine for an enterprising Rogue Trader.

"Necron Lord Vagul is fighting the Tyranids as we speak. When the bugs win, I expect my own gift, Lord Trazyn." I demanded in a colder voice, just as a warning.

"Yes, yes. I do keep my word, stranger. So where exactly could I find that Soulspear?" he replied, possibly after scanning everything I sent for traps and explosives.

I nodded inward and grinned. And sinker.

"Well, the story is about the Soul Drinkers Space Marines. They went traitor about a thousand years ago. Cornered by the Imperium at a place called Cerberian_Field, they abandoned their Battle Barges, and boarded the largest Space Hulk in history.

If you follow the tragedy in time, there is a Soul Drinker Astartes who kills that demon with the spear." I said in a story mode, but not divulging much.

"Hmmm. I don't see the tragedy. Astartes fall to Chaos all the time." Trazyn argued, and rather logically. I made the same point a few times.

"If you do not watch the play, I might spoil it. But anyway, these Astartes didn't fall to Chaos. Hmmm, quite similar to the Badab War. Wait...that didn't happen yet, right? Now I really spoiled it. This C'tan shard might start objecting, again..." I complained in a deprecating tone and ended the call.

I was getting tired, too much mental effort, too soon.

"Faithful, you're going to Antax now. There is a nice Fabricator there who will take care of you. But try to keep everything between us." I sent to my crippled friend and hugged him goodbye.

"Yes, Lord Pef. Even in death, I serve the Omnissiah." the Magos answered in my mind and tried to wave goodbye, rather slowly and uncoordinated.

And so, I sent him away. My Rose would have simply put a bolter to his cogitator, but there is enough tragedy in the galaxy.

Tired, I triggered the teleport beacon and returned to my Canticle, only to find myself surrounded by a dozen worried Astartes, right in the teleport room.

Perhaps I have been gone for too long.

"Bed and fluids." I mumbled, while stumbling towards my rooms.

The flesh was slightly stronger now, but my mind was weak. I should work on that...