(Bonus) 24: Chapter 24: Sanguinius: Wait, I Have to Work to Pay Off Dad’s Debt Too?!
— “So, Anrakyr.
Have you made your decision?
The future of your entire species, or the Mephrit Dynasty?” Vane leaned back, watching Anrakyr the Traveller with supreme, unshakeable confidence.
For sixty million years, the Necrons had been absolutely desperate to reverse Biotransference and save their species.
The Silent King, Szarekh, had faced endless condemnation since his return, constantly branded as the architect of their racial extinction.
A single, biological Necrontyr infant?
With their hyper-advanced genetic science, the Necrons could easily use it as a foundational seed to fully restore their entire species!
“Very well.
Do not attempt any treachery.
Should harm befall that child, my entire species will expend every last resource to ensure your absolute annihilation.” Forcibly suppressing the nuclear fury burning in his logic cores, Anrakyr accepted the aggressively one-sided negotiation.
The hololith projection snapped off, and the mechanical hum of the projector faded into silence.
“Forefather, will Anrakyr truly turn his weapons on the Mephrit Dynasty?” Dante asked, stepping up to Vane.
“Absolutely.
Anrakyr has spent thousands of years trying to reunite the fractured dynasties and restore their ancient glory,” Vane smirked, his eyes gleaming with absolute certainty.
“And right now, the singular, ultimate hope for his entire race is dangling right in front of him.
If he abandons this Necrontyr infant, he instantly becomes the ultimate sinner of his species.” “Branded as a traitor to his own race, he would never achieve his grand ambition.
For the future of his people and his own political survival, he will make the logical choice.” Hearing Vane’s brutal calculus, Dante, Seth, and the other commanders exchanged deeply complicated glances.
The Forefather fights with such overwhelming, brute-force aggression, we completely forgot he’s also a terrifyingly competent political mastermind.
— Meanwhile, Overlord Zarathusa was actively marshaling his forces, preparing to launch a massive offensive against the humans to reclaim the Mephrit Dynasty’s ancient territory and technological legacy.
Right as he was finalizing the deployment orders, Anrakyr the Traveller arrived.
“What did the human say?
Did he agree to hand over the Shard of the Burning One and scurry out of the Cryptus System?” Zarathusa’s tone was deeply respectful.
The political hierarchy among the Necron Dynasties was strictly dictated by military and technological power.
Anrakyr commanded one of the most formidable fleets in the galaxy.
The Mephrit Dynasty, by contrast, was severely weakened.
Having only recently awakened, many of their senior nobles and elite warriors suffered from severe engram-degradation due to the Great Sleep, leaving them a shadow of their former glory.
“Stand down your armies immediately.
Cease all hostile actions against the humans,” Anrakyr ordered, his tone absolute.
“Why?” Zarathusa asked, deeply confused.
“Because that human currently possesses a child.
A biological Necrontyr child.” Anrakyr activated his personal hololith, projecting the visual data from his negotiation.
“What?!!” Zarathusa reeled back, his optical sensors flaring in sheer shock.
“I do not possess the data to explain how the human achieved it, but the reality is undeniable.” Anrakyr gripped his warscythe tightly, staring a hole through Zarathusa.
“The human’s sole condition for negotiation is the complete and total annihilation of the Mephrit Dynasty.” Hearing this, panic flooded Zarathusa’s engrams.
He opened his vocalizer to summon his Lychguard to defend him, but Anrakyr was faster.
The Traveller casually produced a glowing blue hyper-dimensional Tesseract Labyrinth.
Upon activation, an eerie azure light pulsed outward, instantly stripping the temporal flow from the localized space and trapping everything in absolute chronal stasis.
“No!
You cannot do this!
We are kin!” Zarathusa abandoned every shred of his Overlord dignity, desperately begging.
Anrakyr’s metallic face remained completely emotionless.
“You are merely losing a weakened dynasty and your own life.
But if we lose that child, the Necrontyr race permanently loses its future.” Hearing that final, cold verdict, Zarathusa’s logic cores plunged into total despair.
The Overlord knew with absolute certainty that his dynasty was finished.
The Necron race was deeply fractured by internal politics, but every single Overlord shared one absolute, unifying consensus: they must reverse Biotransference to save their species.
Their bodies of living metal could not reproduce.
True salvation required flesh and blood.
And right now, a human held a living, breathing Necrontyr infant.
To secure that child, absolutely any Necron Overlord would make the exact same decision Anrakyr had just made.
The Mephrit Dynasty simply wasn’t important enough to outweigh the survival of their entire species.
Using the Tesseract Labyrinth, Anrakyr effortlessly trapped Zarathusa and his entire Royal Court in a single stroke.
The remaining Mephrit nobles rapidly calculated their odds and immediately surrendered to Anrakyr’s authority.
They all understood the astronomical value of that infant.
They knew the ruling Triarchs would gladly sacrifice ten Mephrit Dynasties to secure it.
— Anrakyr requested another audience with Vane.
This time, the biological Necrontyr infant was brought to the negotiation table.
Dante, Seth, and a heavily armed phalanx of elite Astartes formed an impenetrable wall around the child.
Anrakyr conducted a rapid, non-invasive scan of the infant, extracting the necessary genetic markers.
Once he mathematically confirmed a forceful extraction was tactically impossible, he tossed the glowing Tesseract Labyrinth containing Zarathusa and his court onto the table.
“Can we commence formal negotiations now?” Vane casually inspected the Tesseract.
After confirming the goods were intact, he nodded.
“Of course.
If you want the kid, the price is simple.
Hand over every single C’tan Shard currently in Necron custody.” “That is blatant extortion!” Anrakyr flared, his vocalizer buzzing with rage.
“Hey, watch your language.
This isn’t robbery; it’s a completely legal ransom.
Robbery doesn’t pay nearly this well,” Vane shrugged.
Anrakyr looked at the tiny Necrontyr infant, then back at Vane.
Finally, his logic cores surrendered to reality.
“I do not have the authority to accept those terms unilaterally.
I must convene a council of the Dynasties to authorize the exchange.
You must guarantee the child remains unharmed and healthy.” “Relax.
Until the transaction clears, the kid will live like a king,” Vane assured him.
Having secured the promise, Anrakyr turned on his heel and departed with his Lychguard.
He didn’t linger for a microsecond.
He immediately mobilized his fleet to track down the most powerful Necron Dynasties to present his findings and organize the ransom.
The surviving remnants of the Mephrit Dynasty followed him out, completely abandoning the Cryptus System to humanity.
Just as the Imperial commanders were preparing to celebrate this unprecedented, bloodless strategic victory, a blinding pillar of golden light erupted on the command deck.
As the light faded, a towering figure clad in golden armor and wearing the Death Mask of Sanguinius materialized.
The Sanguinor had arrived.
“Lord Sanguinor.” Dante immediately dropped to one knee.
The Blood Angels and Flesh Tearers mirrored his absolute reverence, bowing deeply.
The Sanguinor gave a solemn nod before turning and striding directly toward Vane.
The Astartes, Chapter serfs, and Tech-Priests immediately parted, forming a path.
Under everyone’s awestruck gazes, the Sanguinor stopped before Vane and offered a deeply humble, profoundly respectful bow.
“Honored Forefather.
I bring a prophecy and a dire warning from the Great Angel.” “The darkest hour approaches.
False gods and traitorous sons shall descend, and the final bastion of hope shall be crushed.” “An endless hunger shall consume the galaxy, while the eight-pointed star fuels the fires of the apocalypse with the souls of the innocent.” “The bleeding king shall tread the path of ascension, bringing ruin and absolute finality to all things.
And when the end arrives, nothing shall remain but ash.” Vane nodded thoughtfully, completely ignoring the apocalyptic poetry to ask the only question he actually cared about.
“Alright, Sanguinor.
Did you just come here to act as a messenger boy?
Or did you bring my relocation compensation check?” The entire command deck collectively choked.
Forefather, please!
We are receiving an apocalyptic prophecy detailing the literal end of humanity, and the first thing you ask for is real estate compensation?!
Even the Sanguinor was completely stun-locked into silence.
In all his centuries serving as the divine herald of Sanguinius, he had never once been aggressively hounded by debt collectors.
He had just delivered a prophecy regarding the literal end times!
Why did this man care more about a payout than the survival of the human race?!
“The sins of the father are visited upon the son.
The Emperor owes me money, which means Sanguinius owes me money.” “And don’t think he can get out of it just because he’s dead!
I have plenty of resurrection mechanics.” “If you don’t pay up, I will literally go to Baal, rip him out of the afterlife, and force him to work minimum wage to pay off the debt.” Seeing the Sanguinor remain utterly silent, Vane doubled down on the threat.
Hearing this, Dante, Seth, and every single son of the Great Angel present practically had stars in their eyes.
The Forefather actually has the power to resurrect the Great Angel?!
Instantly, Dante, Seth, and the other Astartes turned to stare intensely at the Sanguinor, their eyes practically begging him to agree.
If the Great Angel returned, their genetic curse would be permanently cured at its absolute root!
They could fight alongside their Primarch once more!
“Hey!
Say something!
The father’s debt falls to the son!
I am not dropping a single credit of that principal!” Vane waved his hand aggressively in front of the Sanguinor’s masked face.
The Sanguinor felt a deep, profound sense of helplessness.
He genuinely didn’t have the pre-programmed protocols to deal with a situation like this.
Whatever.
When in doubt, tactical retreat.
With a blinding flash of golden light, the Sanguinor vanished.
“Son of a—!
Not a single person in this galaxy respects a contract!
Every last one of you is a deadbeat!” Vane stared at the empty deck, completely dumbfounded.
This Sanguinor is definitely a Greater Daemon of the Emperor.
Their ‘hit-and-run’ tactics are practically copy-pasted!
Dante, Seth, and the Astartes kept their heads aggressively bowed, desperately pretending they hadn’t heard a single word.
Just then, a Chapter serf scurried into the strategic command center, clutching a sealed data-scroll.
His arrival instantly shattered the deeply awkward tension, drawing everyone’s attention.
Seeing every high-ranking Astartes commander staring at him, the serf practically froze in terror, his voice stammering.
“I-I am the primary translator for Chief Astropath Jellico!
H-He ordered me to deliver the latest Astropathic intercepts immediately!” “It’s a transmission relayed by High Chaplain Astorath the Grim.
It…
it concerns the Cadian Gate.” — Wanna read ahead right now?!