The heavy blast gate on the side of Horusburg slid open amidst a hiss of pneumatic pressure. A bizarrely shaped convoy charged out into the wasteland night.
Beneath their chassis, weak blue ion streams jetted, gliding at high speed about half a meter above the ground.
Light skiff—the latest product of the alien technology analysis station.
Previously, when Sisyphus was scavenging in the Columbic Trade District, he brought back several drone fragments from the T'au Empire and some damaged "Piranha" light glider components. Andy threw these items into that black circular platform.
Andy had originally thought the analysis station could only parse out components like anti-gravity engines.
As it turned out, the station's operational logic was somewhat unexpected. It didn't just parse the components; based on the structural logic of those wrecks and combined with the universal vehicle chassis in the STC database, it directly spat out the complete blueprint for this light skiff, along with two lines of direct assembly production code.
This "blind box" opening attribute delighted Andy immensely.
Though the skiff's armor was thin and could not withstand direct hits from heavy weapons, it excelled in sheer speed and extraordinary terrain adaptability. Crucially, it had no wheels and left no tire tracks in the sand. For covert infiltration missions, it qualified as the perfect vehicle.
Körber sat in the lead skiff, clutching the heavy data-slate.
Six hours of forced march. The coordinates on the navigation terminal converged.
"Stop."
Körber issued the command.
The skiff formation immediately dropped engine output, coming to a silent halt behind a row of rolling sand dunes. Körber jumped down, his power armor's magnetic boots crunching softly on the sand.
He walked over to what looked like an ordinary hollow in the dune, reaching out to brush away the shifting surface sand.
It exposed a black metal box underneath—the control terminal for the thermal base station buried by Regan earlier. The indicator light was green, showing the underground equipment was operating normally.
Körber pulled out a data cable, plugging it directly into the arm interface of his power armor.
A string of preset command codes was inputted.
According to Andy's calculations, sneaking past a Necron beacon required more than keeping the interference field active the whole time. That consumed too much power and easily drew the attention of the Necron defense systems.
The best method was pulse interference.
Every twenty minutes, the underground thermal base station outputted a full-power gravitational wave interference pulse. It forcibly cracked open the pocket dimension entrance hidden in the folds of space, maintaining a window of roughly sixty seconds.
Körber watched the countdown on the terminal.
[Interference Pulse Countdown: 00:15]
"All hands, prepare."
Körber whispered into the comms channel. Everyone tightened their grip on their weapons, staring fixedly at the empty air ahead.
3, 2, 1.
Hum—
A microscopic tremor passed through the ground beneath their feet.
Immediately, the air ahead began to warp, ripples of transparency diffusing outward. Then, space tore open a seam.
The gap rapidly expanded, revealing a deep, gloomy corridor.
"Move!"
Körber took the lead, charging right in. His squadmates followed closely behind.
Sixty seconds later, the passageway closed behind them, and the wasteland returned to absolute dead silence.
"This isn't a tomb."
That was Körber's first instinct upon entering the space.
In his mind, a tomb world should be filled with sarcophagi, statues, and a suffocating aura of death. But this place was different. They had arrived in a massive hall filled with industrial aesthetics.
The surrounding walls were built from blackstone, their surfaces carved with intricate geometric patterns. Green energy currents flowed through these patterns, illuminating the entire hall.
In the center sat massive instruments of unknown purpose. One resembled a giant armillary sphere with countless metal rings slowly spinning in mid-air; another looked like an energy prison holding some kind of still-pulsing warp lightning. The equipment density was extraordinarily high, arranged in immaculate order.
Bzzzt—
Körber tried to call Andy, but the comms channel produced only static.
It seemed that within this pocket dimension, conventional radio signals could not get through at all. Command naturally defaulted to Körber.
"Maintain formation," Körber gestured. "Proceed as planned. Scavenge."
The squad members pulled special bags from their belts.
Magnetic containment storage bags—gear Andy had specifically whipped up for this operation. Most Necron technology carried living metal properties or unstable phase attributes that normal sacks simply couldn't contain. These bags housed an independent internal magnetic field capable of forcibly pinning items down to prevent them from wandering off or self-detonating.
The squad pushed deeper into the research facility.
They strictly adhered to the "avoidance principle" Andy had taught them before.
Whenever they saw palm-sized scarabs or snake-like Canoptek Wraiths floating in mid-air, they froze instantly. No matter how absurd the pose, they forced themselves to stay still and wait.
Fortunately, this facility seemed to be in semi-hibernation; patrol security units were sparse.
The troopers moved swiftly.
They had no idea what the equipment did, but that didn't matter.
Andy had laid down the law:
"If it glows, take it."
"If it doesn't glow, take it."
"If it has a regular shape, take it."
"If it has a completely irregular shape, take it."
The squad had almost cracked up back then.
What the hell kind of instructions are those?!
That just means take everything you can carry!
Consequently, a variety of stone slabs, crystals, spare parts, and idle Gauss weapons were steadily crammed into the magnetic bags. Sweeping everything in their path, it was a bumper harvest.
Soon, they reached the deeper recesses of the facility.
A long corridor featured individual rooms lining both sides. The rooms had no doors, only shimmering green light curtains.
Körber cautiously passed through the light curtain into one of the chambers.
The temperature dropped drastically compared to the outer hall; armor readouts displayed minus forty degrees Celsius.
Two rows of neat stone coffins stood in the center of the room.
The sarcophagi were entirely crafted from some dark metal, their surfaces rippling with a sheen like liquid mercury.
Living metal.
The term popped instantly into Körber's head.
The boss had explicitly emphasized before departure that this material was a high-grade commodity with zero reserve across Deep Space Industries. If they could score living metal, the boss claimed he could upgrade everyone's power armor by another tier, even granting them self-repair capabilities.
"Captain."
A squadmate hurried over, pointing at the coffins with undisguised greed.
"This stuff... looks like it's made entirely of living metal. If we haul some back, the boss is gonna be thrilled!"
Körber nodded.
He was thinking the exact same thing. Since they'd made the trip, just picking up junk spare parts felt a bit underwhelming. If they could blast a chunk off one of these coffins to take back, that would be a real contribution!
"Use meltacharges."
Körber pointed to a slightly smaller sarcophagus.
"This material's too hard; normal explosives won't scratch it. Stick 'em to the corners and blow off a chunk. Don't wake the skeleton up inside."
The troopers sprang into action.
Two demolitions experts stepped up, pulling directional meltacharges from their packs and carefully applying them along the edge of the lid. These charges were designed to cut heavy armor; the instantaneous heat generated could burn straight through plasteel.
Right as the sappers set the detonator timers, another guard tasked with perimeter security curiously peered into the observation port of the adjacent sarcophagus.
Necron sarcophagi were typically opaque. However, this lid featured a semi-transparent crystal panel, likely designed for internal status monitoring.
The trooper pressed his face against it, switching on his helmet's tactical flashlight.
The beam pierced the crystal panel, illuminating the interior.
The next second.
"Holy shit—!"
The soldier recoiled as if shocked by electricity, emitting a frightened shriek. The bolter in his hands nearly discharged.
"What is it?!"
Körber spun around instantly, snapping his muzzle toward the soldier.
"This... this ain't right!"
The trooper pointed at the sarcophagus, fingers trembling.
"Inside... inside ain't a skeleton!"
"It's a human! A living human!"
Körber froze.
Pushing the terrified soldier aside, he stepped up to the crystal panel.
The beam shone inside.
The interior of the sarcophagus was filled with a greenish preservative gas. Amidst that mist, a biological entity truly rested.
A human female.
Terribly emaciated, skin clinging to bones with ribs standing out in stark relief, her complexion cast an unhealthy dead-gray. She wore no clothes, but her body bristled with tiny tubes and electrodes.
The tubes linked to instruments at the base of the coffin, sustaining her weak vital signs.
Her eyes were closed, but beneath her eyelids, the eyeballs darted rapidly, as though she were trapped in the throes of a violent dream.
What the hell?
Körber felt his worldview take a direct hit.
Did we come to the wrong place?
This is a Necron installation!
Why would they keep a living human in their core facility?
Is it some kind of experimental specimen?
Or... is there something special about this human?
Just as everyone stood stunned and speechless by the sight:
Hum—
The green light curtain at the entrance flickered violently.
A figure floated silently inside.
It appeared to be a mechanical entity taller and stranger than a standard Necron warrior. Its spine arched high like a hunchbacked elder; its lower half lacked legs, hovering mid-air on an anti-gravity base. In its hands, it grasped a long staff tipped with crackling green arcs of electricity, surrounded by several micro-lenses constantly processing telemetry data.
It displayed no aggressive posture, simply hovering quietly at the doorway.
The giant single eye first scanned the heavily armed intruders, then glanced at the meltacharges plastered against the sarcophagus.
Finally—
Its audio emitter vibrated, emitting a complex series of electronic noises resembling an old-school dial-up modem.
Though they couldn't understand a word it uttered, Körber vividly sensed the Necron technician's current mental state.
It was probably just as baffled.