The vast and deep void was filled with the shimmering yellow light of reflected radiation.
Closer, ever closer.
The crescent-shaped ships of the Necrons continued on their set trajectories, gliding towards the main fleet of the Iron Warriors at an unhurried, steady pace. Their velocity was like a ticking time bomb next to Perturabo, with numbers steadily counting down.
The vanguard cruisers of the Iron Warriors sped up, their plasma drives pushed to maximum output, trailing brilliant cerulean flames.
Soon, the Necron ships entered the attack range of the Iron Warriors' cruisers, but the Iron Warriors did not attack first. Instead, they adjusted the formations of their fleet, vaguely taking up encirclement positions directly ahead.
But contrary to Perturabo's expectations, these crescent ships did not attempt to retreat, as if compelled by unretractable orders to keep advancing.
In previous combat profiling and analysis, these aliens that resembled robots never retreated, tireless and unrelenting like actual machines.
Their superiors had absolute control over them. Once orders were given, there was no disobedience among subordinates, even if it meant these footsoldiers armed with only basic weaponry would face the Iron Warriors' next artillery bombardment.
Thinking of this, Perturabo's eyes darkened with complex emotions as he contemplated the qualities displayed by these aliens.
Perturabo quickly pulled his thoughts back. That was dangerous thinking.
He stood silently on the deck of the Iron Blood, data cables feeding real-time information from the vanguard cruisers directly to him for the Legion Master to issue updated commands at the first opportunity.
On the surface of 106, enemy aircrafts were reported spotted on the edges of Mining Area 3. Perturabo had dispatched his own artillery support there, as well as air squadrons like Stormbirds.
There was nothing to worry about. Let that country bumpkin see what real warfare looks like, instead of just amassing soldiers on the battlefield.
[Open fire.]
The order was swiftly relayed to the vanguard cruiser squadron. In an instant, the torpedo nets formed by them encircled the Necron fleet tightly, trailing brilliant flaming tails.
It was over, unless their fleet defenses had something that could give him pause.
Perturabo turned his attention to the ground forces, where the loss ratio of the Stormbirds was somewhat high —
[White Tungsten requests urgent communication–]
[Vermilion Copper requests urgent communication–]
[Cinnabar requests urgent communication–]
[. . .]
In just a flash, the vanguard cruisers sent no less than dozens of urgent communication requests!
Perturabo hurriedly focused his thoughts on the cruisers' data streams, but there was only deathly silence from them after the frenzied calls.
The expressions of those working around the Primarch also turned ugly.
Unthinkable thoughts flashed through like fleeting sparks. Perturabo took 0.1 milliseconds to calm himself. He knew he was emotionless, inside and out iron.
He opened up the data streams of the main fleet. Trusting sensors of all kinds while scorning naked-eye observations, Perturabo saw no need to install viewports on the Iron Blood, so the Legion Master could not directly see the battlefield.
The footage from his mechanical familiars made his expression change.
The space where the two fleets clashed was filled with red warning symbols and gray disabled symbols on the screens, without a single blue symbol indicating normal status.
Live footage came in. The Necron ships still advanced perfectly along their straight-line trajectories, but — their speed had jumped to a level that horrified all humans!
Shrapnel from iron fragments burst brightly in crimson and cerulean. But they were no longer the torpedo explosions Perturabo was familiar with. Countless cruisers, big and small, drifted along inertia, mechanical self-destructs singing their death knells after they were torn apart.
The vanguard Cinnabar cruiser was ripped straight through by the Necron ships, which now shot towards the cluster where the Iron Blood and Pride of the Legion resided!!!
[Break formation! Break formation! Sigma pattern!!!]
More than anger or irritation at losing face before the Death Guard, the Perturabo who knew the fleet data well finally realized what they were up against. Incredulous shock and fear slowly crept up.
Hades stood before the viewport, eyes fixed intently on the waters to the left fore.
There, bright explosions kept blossoming.
The blooms of torpedo and lance explosions were the only things piercing through the dark void.
But amidst those gorgeous and dazzling flare clusters, the Necrons' greenish glow streaked wildly like speeding motorcycles, smoothly breaking out of the Iron Warriors' attack zone.
Too fast. Truly too fast.
The Necrons' ships had reached speeds near the limit of Hades' comprehension. Despite keeping rather far from the main battle zone, those crescent cruisers seemed able to cross from one side of the viewport to the other in the blink of an eye as countless Iron Warriors cruisers were shredded straight apart.
The previously dense formation of the Iron Warriors fleet immediately scattered wildly.
But Hades said nothing. From the very start of the Necrons and Iron Warriors exchanging fire, he had already sent word for Mortarion to come observe the battle.
But Mortarion, likely still training with the Death Guard, would probably ignore that message. To ensure that the Legion Master came over, Hades specially recorded footage of the Necrons tearing through the Iron Warriors' cruisers.
Aside from that, Hades had already ordered all ships to loose formation, ready to engage enemies or retreat at any time.
But to be honest, after seeing the Necrons ships' performance, Hades couldn't be certain that the small Barbarus fleet led by the Death Guard could handle them either.
Unconsciously, Hades pursed his lips. The camera over his bionic left eye began recording as both sides' movement trajectories streamed directly into his left brain for real-time analysis.
Although the Necrons ships slicing into the Iron Warriors fleet caused the latter's ships to scatter instantly like hot oil meeting cold water, Hades noticed that the Iron Warriors retreat was not chaotic at all.
On the contrary, the Iron Warriors ships were reorganizing themselves. Their seemingly disordered state actually minimized their own losses.
It was like a giant school of herrings in the ocean. Densely packed and huge, when sharks charged into the school, the fish immediately scattered, concealing each individual within the protection of the greater whole.
In Hades' understanding of the Imperium and computation, plotting the random trajectories of several points on a 2D plane might still be possible through computational brute force.
But in 3D space involving a whole Legion's worth of ships, the exponential increase in variables would cause calculation difficulty to geometrically explode —
Yet Perturabo was performing such calculations in his mind?!
Hades gritted his teeth, sucking in a breath.
The Iron Warriors ships did not stop moving. They continued transforming their formations in space as much as possible. Upon realizing torpedo damage was very limited against the Necrons ships, Perturabo began manipulating the ships to open fire with their lances at extreme range against those ships. At the same time, Perturabo started predicting the trajectories of the enemy ships, preemptively placing small ships with weapons set to maximum output along their possible flight paths, reinforced by covering fire and formation from his own side. These suicide ships made straight for the weak points of the Necron ships.
The Necrons charged into the inner encirclement, meeting the full broadsides of heavier battleships therein.
Dazzlingly eye-catching, the Iron Warriors ships moved with increasing frenzy. A few more green lights extinguished. The Iron Blood dragged her graceful body along, hiking up her skirts as she fled backwards, shields ornamenting her dress with bright and shiny jeweled brilliance.
But within the layered folds of her skirt were countless weapons of death gazing coldly upon the Necron ships that seemed like mere ants before her.
Just as both sides were about to —
On Necron Dirge-class attack ship #0879, the Necron warriors silently worked away.
As lower-order minds, the Necron warriors aboard this attack squadron lacked independent will.
After crypt scanners on the surface of 106 detected the fleet group engaging forces invading the skies above and on the ground belonged to the same enemy, and their numbers met the programmed minimum threshold for eviction (actually the bulk of the Iron Warriors reinforced by part of the Death Guard fleet), they were dispatched to drive off the enemies in space.
The deeper Necron nobles required quiet hibernation. These intruding aliens had to be driven away for none to disturb the Necrons' slumber.
After all, forcefully rousing higher order minds prematurely risked unknowable damage to them. And minds worn by eons could no longer endure such strain.
The largest target ship entered attack range of the Necron vessels. Following programmed behavior, the Necron warriors performed detailed data scans of the enemy ship before first strike —
#¥%...&***&%¥?!
Fragmented yet familiar information that struck terror into the rare Necrons capable of the emotion rippled through —
Traces indicating the previous recent presence of C'tan shards were detected aboard this ship!!!
Alpha-priority alert burst out from the attack ships instantly! These electromagnetic waves crammed full of frantic data were directly relayed down into the tomb complex consciousness of 106. Beyond any established parameters, the additional strain atop existing deterioration caused an extremely brief but total processing shutdown —
[Protocol error! Warning! Freezing, freezing, freezing!]
In the battle zone of Mining Area 3, the motionless Necrons would not revive through existing protocols. In the skies above, previously unfettered Necron aircraft began falling...
While at the planetary surface, attack ships moments ago from breaching the Iron Warriors' innermost defensive lines froze mid-motion.
Perturabo exploited this chance to immediately shred those Necron ships into fragments!
The culprit still stood in confused astonishment before the viewport.
Although the downing of enemy craft was pleasing news for the Iron Warriors, the outcome utterly baffled Hades' simulation programs.
The Necron ships were like marionettes with suddenly snipped strings.
What happened?
[In 106's deepest tomb, It opened Its eyes.]
— This was the Necrons' first interception of Hades' communications —
[Its gaze turned with interest towards ■■■ above.]