Moments ago in a small binary star system where a blue dwarf and its twin star a red dwarf could be seen orbiting around each other as they did for billions of years, planets both gaseous and rocky did the same, adorning the duet of stars with their presence in this eternal dance.
In one of those rocky planets orbiting in the perfect area giving it the right conditions for life to flourish, primeval forest, mountain peaks covered in pure white snow, and crystal clear ocean, river, and lake adorned its pictures and alien landscape.
This planet's vast richness was under the control of diminutive sapient bipedal vaguely canid-like creatures with two pairs of arms. It was a species where war and hate for difference within one's own kind were utterly alien and incompressible.
They were a young race, barely a millennia-old since they diverged from an ancestor species, and yet their peculiarity, a shared consciousness where each individual added to a psychic network, had led them to be in the middle of undergoing an industrial revolution yet one in full consideration of the nature and life around them.
With the absence of personal gain and selfishness, all was possible, all should be possible for this nascent race.
In a few more centuries the stars would be for them to explore and the possibility to discover other life forms and even form friendships would be in their claws.
Alas, it was not to be, they evolved at the wrong place and at the wrong time. For all the inhabitants of this potentially utopian society, all turned dark, light acting in a way it shouldn't have led to the delay there should have been to not exist as both suns disappeared at once.
This impromptu night terrified all, the powerful sensation of terror spreading in the collective that only amplified the sight of space and time folding and dimension colliding in their binary star system.
From this distortion a fleet of gargantuan proportions appeared, their speed changing from far beyond that of light to absolute stillness in an instant, all the kinetic energy having built up dissipating into pocket dimensions of nothingness, avoiding the fleet to self-annihilate the moment they slowed down.
The hundreds of thousands of spaceships formed a cloud of scale beyond reason plunging the binary star system into a sea of ominous soulless dark grey and sickly toxic green.
Their sheer mass in the local space having suddenly appeared affected gravity starting a snowball on the surrounding celestial object, altering their orbits forever but it was a minor worry for what was to come.
Those cruisers at the quintessence of Realspace sciences and technology were made of a nigh indestructible, self-regenerating, and adapting living metal infamously known as Necrodermis, their forms were fitted with tools and weapons defying all laws of physics while their shape and size ranged widely, each fitted for a precise task.
The most numerous and common of all ranging in below two kilometres were the Light Cruisers composing three-fourths of the fleet, all designed for speed, maneuverability, assassination, scouting, and harassment of enemy vessels.
One of such smaller cruisers was the Cartouche-classes; they were a bit more than half a kilometer in width and half of it in length, and their body amounted to a pyramid in the center with on the side a majestic pair of crescent-shaped wings.
There were many more from Cruisers like the Scythe-class harvest ship close to five kilometers to Battlecruisers nearing eight kilometers in length, but those were only two of many more models, all varying even between the same class showing signs of personalization for many purposes such as showing their allegiance.
As for the largest of all… The Bringer of Darkness, the heart and the ship of this fleet. It dwarfed the six massive crescent-shaped Cairn-class Tomb Ships each fifteen kilometers long orbiting around it. Using small planetoids would be better objects of comparison for this titan of Necrodermis.
This was the personal vessel, the flagship, of one the most powerful beings in the Universe, one rivaling for the title of the strongest Star Gods, by their true name the C'tan for they were no mere gods needing worship to live but living aspects of reality. Of course, for being of such ego there was little difference and worship was a want.
Their body of Necrodermis gave them an anchor for them to bend the Material Realm to their will and whims… They once upon a time weren't able to for they were unnoticeable and nigh powerless incomprehensible large clouds of energy and consciousness as old as the Universe itself.
Their current status was all thanks to their soulless servant of this very same metal, the Necron, once of sickly flesh and brittle bone riddled with incurable cancer. Their souls were devoured by their masters in exchange for their mortal organic body to be changed to that of undying metals.
This very being was sitting in a relaxed posture on a dark grey throne of rather simple design if not for it being equal to multiple stories high buildings in height, the one sitting on it of corresponding size.
Its male deathly thin yet muscled humanoid frame with pure grey skin that absorbed all light was covered in a tattered cloak of living darkness, hiding very little of its true form. In its right bonny hand was a farming tool, a regular scythe of wood and damaged metal, but its appearance failed to speak volumes of the terror it had brought upon untold species, the recurved blade capable of cutting laws and concepts of reality alike.
Its ever-shifting visage beyond mortal comprehension possessed two dark voids for eyes that only hungered for destruction and pain in a never-ending cycle of despair. A smile beyond facial proportion and alien emotions was etched on its face
This was the personification of Death, the one that instilled the fear of death within all that lives with little exception, he was known by many names and titles, the Grim Reaper, the Destroyer of Light, or his personal favorite the Nightbringer.
"How is the Anomaly faring, my little Diviner? The moment that you have calculated is within moments, an error may not spell an early end for you are a far too valuable and amusing toy but… If the promised satisfaction is revealed to be disappointment… Then the future that is due for your foolishness is but one you have seen unfold countless times.", Aza'gorod the Nightbringer shifting in his seat said, his voice but a deathly whisper promising many things all ending in the slowest and most painful end, his distended smile growing with each word.
The 'little Diviner' that was referred to shivered in terror at the threat, his prostrating posture almost breaking, his android body doing little to stop the dulled but raging emotion from brooding within, terror led to long since gone bodily function from his mortal life to resurface violently; shivering, dilatation of his cyclopean green eyes and tightening of his grip around his staff.
'Arrogant and blind creature full of greed… A short-sighted mortal and infantile view of the worlds for such ancient godlike beings… Disappointment would not be the term I would refer to for your kind's destiny.', Orikan thought the remnant of his mortal emotion quenching down to let place to one of cold satisfaction, he knew even with the arrival of an entity out of time altered the flow of time in many ways.
And so he did not fear for his non-life and the accuracy of his divination because events that needed to open would still do so, if ever so slightly differently. He and the one who played had just to adapt to this alien variable.
But those thoughts didn't come in for the Necron Cryptek, as the most renowned Chronomamcer of the Infinite Empire he was neither rash nor an imbecile unlike a certain individual he despised before biotransference and so he said in a cold mechanical voice lashed with one might call the highest level of bootlicking that was all but deceit, "Your Highness, under my name and that of all I held loyalty too you are my true master, I will never dare to envision of failing you. The Gate of the Burning One can be opened for your grandiose feast upon the flesh and soul of our pathetic enemies."
"Yes, my little Diviner. Let them know despair and hopelessness! Let them know eternal night for I'm endless, oblivion, and death! For I'm the Nightbrinher!", the C'tan declared, his distorted smile growing further as he stood up to his full titanic height, the rusted blade of his shining under the green light of the room while within the palm of his hand, a hypersphere of negative grey energy began to coalesce, compressed, and refine itself for this most strange newborn's multifaceted first gift.
In the following moment, several things happened in a timeframe that for mortals would contain in five seconds, the Star God of Death and all his brethren felt something, their gaze turning to the spruce, that one point in creation, the one that had been hidden from until now since the event connected to the breach of Well of Eternity.
It was a nascent being of immense power suddenly coming into reality, it bound to Realspace in a way not entirely dissimilar to theirs, but distinctively different for it was both antithetical yet not, in in the same manner within the Sea of Souls, a new oppressive presence with the same paradoxical quality became known by its closest and most powerful of its denizen, three others major nascent being in particular.
The Gates of the Burning One or Dolmen Gates, a type of portal for the Necron and the C'tan to pass from Realspace to the hiding place of their enemy with mocking ease had been formed in but an instant by a shift in the fleet formation.
Like ants forming living bridges, ten thousand Light Cruisers had formed a triangular formation, each of them shaped in a way to connect perfectly together.
The formation flashed a toxic green leading to space and time tearing apart giving way to an unstable portal leading to the Labyrinth Dimension with no latency the entire flat plunged within, and planets close to which contained the one with life were forced within due to the gravitational disturbance it caused.
Their destion revealed to be the deepest most hidden depth of this artificial arcane realm between Materium and Imamterium, their target a cluster of Blackstone Fortress huddled within between the polychromatic structure of solidified psychic energy where neither up, down nor left and right existed.
Then Asa'gorog focused on bringing the fear of the inevitable and on the Anomaly released the hold on the hypersphere, the energy accumulated enough to annihilate star systems from reality and consolidated into one beam that broke and reconstructed reality in its wake as it flew to the target of his focus.
This act brought to the present where the ancient human turned into a monster of godly power by the madness and despair of the Old Ones under the new name of Hoopa, had felt it and opened a portal in response.
'Aza'gorog the Nightbringer… one of the C'tan masters of Realspace, the Necrontyr turned Necron the latter's creator and slaves… War, death, and pain in excess… The Old Ones… their creations the powerful Krork, the Aeldari, K'nib, and untold more…. And me… The creation of Cthylla the Great Old One.', Hoopa analyzed the constant flux of information being pumped into his mind by the Great Old One in question.
There were an ungodly amount of things thrown at him all at once, hundreds of thousands of years and hundreds of thousands of years of conflict and more in various subjects like who was the enemy and who wasn't compacted into a few dense packages giving an immediate understanding of the situation…
He didn't trust it all, of course, it was filled with propaganda and bias but it was enough for him to realize he had underestimated how dire the situation was.
He was a product born out of the despair of a dying race, a race so powerful they could be considered gods.
It gave him the basics for him to construct a relatively good understanding of his situation, his role, and his position. It was a hasty one lacking detail and depth but there wasn't really the time for an in-depth explanation recapitulating close to a million years worth of galaxy-spanning war of complexity far beyond mortal and immortal comprehension.
But the fact that Cthylla had this prepared meant the attack that just happened while probably not anticipated this way meant she knew an attack would come and had a plan to cut short on his 'education' in such a case. She was no fool.
'I recognize this universe… It's the one my brother was obsessed with and spent an exorbitant amount on plastic figurine army, not that I was better with my card collection and the conventions… Another thing I will never see and experience again.', he thought simultaneously with the continual flux of information.
The exact name escaped him, the timeline too but in the end, it mattered little to him for he didn't know much of this universe to start with… Aside from that it was a horrific one filled with eldritch abomination that he was likely now part of and shaky information from a few dumb memes with a blurry Fanfic here and there.
Adding that it could be just another one with similarities. Infinity made it so nothing was unique, it could be or it couldn't. He would never be certain so pondering further on it was a waste of time.
"This is the reason you stole everything from me… For your war, a war I shouldn't be part of but I now am. How the mighty have fallen to require a mortal's help.", Hoopa said in an even tone as he gazed at the approaching Necron fleet through the hole of the damaged Blackstone Fortress, a part of his focus on the one that had shot him.
He could feel the Nightbringer smirk. Luckily there was a moment of respite as the cluster of Fortress had erected a psychic shield of complex attack and extreme potency that he felt wouldn't be able to break by simple brute force, not that a barrier of such nature was of use against him.
As for his words… They went unanswered by her, she didn't even look in his direction but she had heard it and continued to speak in her tongue that bent reality for what she was doing was far more important than his spite.
Her voice reached a crescendo and he felt a shift in the Sea of Souls, the dimensions he suddenly gained full access to with the collapse of the room rune matrix and that felt he could bend to his very will.
He had been deeply aware of this dimension the moment he was out of his prison bottle but not this clearly, it was more of a slight buzz.
There were a lot of eyes on him from all of its inhabitants, anger, curiosity, love, and more all contradictory to the last but it wasn't only the Neverborns, the ones connected to it to a far lesser degree than he was focused on him such as the Aeldari.
Awe, fear, and reverence for they instinctively understood like he did the strict hierarchy between them, he was superior and they were inferior.
He realized that he was proving to be a great distraction to them for the approaching battle, he wasn't exactly making himself hard to notice and so like reducing the flow of a faucet his overwhelming presence receded to a less overbearing level.
Hoopa didn't have anything against them and any of the other races aboard the Blackstone Fortresses, quite the opposite.
For him, they were just as much a victim as he was, if not more, like all of the other Old Ones' 'Young Races' as they were called. They were weapons, meat shields, and puppets to be used by those cowardly simians far too afraid to face the consequences of their actions.
And like he, it must be in their genes to obey more so with how they are tricked to do so thinking this was a noble and sacred edict given by their creators. They all were slaves but the threat entailed a far worse fate.
The shift in the Sea of Souls was related to those points, the Aeldari and Neverborns, she was bringing reinforcement in the form that in a very broad way could be considered as a distant family and this being wasn't coming alone too it seemed.
And this second guest was the first to arrive, manifesting in a flurry of light, sparkle, firework and confetti an eerie laugh echoed announcing the coming of a mask a mix between a plague mask and that of a laughing drama mask made of metal, two piercing red eyes flashed with amusement and wonder in the eyes socket.
From this mask a boot came out it spun and grew into a leg, and a gloved hand followed, the second boot soon came after and the rest of the body ensued. It was a male androgynous humanoid figure close to half Hoopa size and dressed in extravagant colorful puffy garb.
"Ohohohoh, isn't this a truly fascinating day to be alive?! My sincerest apology to have invited myself to this mery party my dearest scaly Mother but I must present myself to this very young youngling. Greetings unlucky Traveler from beyond the Well of Eternity, I'm known as Cegorach the self-appointed Laughing God and First Fool at your service!", the Aeldari God of Creativity, Trickery, and Deception announced with an overdramatic bow and a hat-tipped over.