The War in Heaven entered its darkest age.
The Old Ones were collapsing.
Their ancient empires had fractured beneath endless Necron invasions and the C’tan’s unstoppable wrath.
Entire Webway sectors had been sealed permanently, while countless genetically engineered servant races died by the billions trying to slow the extinction consuming the galaxy.
Victory belonged to the Necrons.
Yet Mike no longer viewed that as reassuring.
Because the stronger the C’tan became, the more dangerous they grew to everything around them, including the Necrons themselves.
And unlike most dynasties blinded by conquest, the Thokt Dynasty had already begun preparing for what came after victory.
The planet beneath Mike’s feet had once been a thriving Old One research world.
Now it was silent.
Blackened continents stretched beneath storm-filled skies while massive excavation complexes scarred the surface.
Gigantic pylons of living metal pierced deep into the crust, drawing out ancient deposits hidden beneath the world since before recorded galactic history.
Blackstone.
Noctilith.
One of the rarest materials in existence.
Mike stood in a colossal underground chamber, with floating fragments of dark crystalline material rotating slowly before him.
Unlike ordinary matter, Blackstone seemed to absorb surrounding energy in an unnatural way.
Even light itself bent strangely around the crystalline structures.
Most importantly
It interacted directly with the Warp.
And with the C’tan.
A cryptek approached cautiously.
“My phaeron, the latest resonance tests confirm the material’s suppressive properties.”
Mike observed the floating crystal silently.
“How severe?”
The cryptek activated several projections.
“Localized dimensional stabilization.
Warp interference reduction.
Energy absorption scales exponentially under stellar-level output.”
Mike’s glowing eyes narrowed slightly.
Exactly as expected.
Blackstone did not merely suppress energy.
It disrupted fundamental interactions between dimensions and physical manifestations.
Including the manifestations of the C’tan themselves.
Mike extended one hand toward the crystal.
Nanites flowed across his necrodermis fingers as they interfaced carefully with the material.
Streams of data poured into his consciousness instantly.
The possibilities expanded rapidly.
Containment structures.
Power siphoning arrays.
Dimensional prisons.
Weapons.
Theoretically, enough Blackstone combined with adaptive nanite systems could weaken even the C’tan.
Don’t kill them.
But restrain them.
Fragment them.
Perhaps even
Mike stopped the thought there.
Too early.
Much too early.
Yet the foundation was forming.
And he knew others were watching.
For several cycles now, subtle anomalies had appeared throughout the system.
Dimensional distortions too refined for Necron technology.
Observation patterns inconsistent with Old One survivors.
Aeldari shadows.
Even now, remnants of the future Aeldari species moved carefully through hidden Webway paths, observing the galaxy’s collapse from the edges of war.
Mike allowed them to remain.
Because he intended to use them. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
He slowly turned toward one of the chamber walls.
“Continue the experiments,” he ordered calmly.
“Increase resonance exposure.”
The crypteks obeyed immediately.
Mike began walking through the laboratory, his mechanical footsteps echoing softly through the massive chamber.
Then, deliberately, he spoke aloud.
“The flaw of the C’tan becomes increasingly obvious.”
The crypteks exchanged glances.
Mike continued calmly, fully aware that hidden listeners would hear every word.
“Their hunger grows beyond efficiency.”
A pause.
“They consume too much.”
One cryptek cautiously responded, “My phaeron?”
Mike stopped beside a projection displaying multiple C’tan energy signatures.
“Their need for stellar energy and soul essence is not controlled.
It is instinctive.” He gestured toward the projection.
“Eventually, their feeding cycles will outpace available harvests.”
He let the implication linger intentionally.
Another cryptek spoke carefully.
“You believe the Star Gods may eventually compete against one another?”
Mike turned slightly.
“Gods ruled by hunger are still ruled.”
Silence spread through the chamber.
Mike continued his calculated performance.
“Their greed will become weakness.
Especially if one believes another threatens its dominance or consumes more than its share.”
The words were precise.
Carefully crafted.
Not lies.
Guided truths.
And hidden within the shadows beyond dimensional sight, unseen listeners carried every word away.
Far from the laboratory world, within hidden pathways of the Webway, spectral figures moved rapidly through impossible corridors.
The spies of the emerging Aeldari civilization wasted no time.
The information was too dangerous.
Too important.
For ages, the Aeldari had observed the catastrophic rise of the C’tan with growing horror.
Entire sectors vanished beneath their hunger while even the Old Ones failed to stop them.
Now, for the first time, a possible weakness had emerged.
Greed.
Division.
Competition.
The information eventually reached a particular entity.
Cegorach.
The Laughing God.
Unlike many powers observing the collapse of the galaxy, Cegorach did not confront strength directly.
He manipulated.
Twisted.
Redirected.
And now he saw an opportunity.
The C’tan were beings of endless hunger and ego.
Each viewed itself as superior to the others.
Their alliance existed only because the War in Heaven demanded cooperation.
But cooperation built upon pride was fragile.
And fragile things could be broken.
Through hidden manipulations and carefully seeded deceptions, suspicion spread among the star gods.
Small conflicts emerged first.
Disputes over feeding rights competition for stellar systems rich in life energy.
Then came the greatest fracture.
The being later known as The Outsider turned upon its brethren.
No one truly understood how completely the deception unfolded.
Only that it worked.
The unity of the C’tan shattered.
And the galaxy suffered for it.
The wars between the star gods eclipsed even the horrors of the War in Heaven.
Reality itself broke beneath their battles.
Entire planets were annihilated in moments as C’tan unleashed cosmic forces against one another.
Stars vanished into consuming darkness while unleashed singularities devoured entire solar systems.
Black holes wandered across sectors like predators.
Civilizations disappeared overnight.
New cities built by millions of Necron laborers were destroyed moments later as rival C’tan clashed across their surfaces.
The red harvests grew thin.
Too many worlds had already died.
Too many suns extinguished.
And the hunger of the C’tan only intensified.
Eventually, the unthinkable began.
C’tan devoured C’tan.
Star gods are consuming one another in an endless pursuit of greater power.
The survivors became even more dangerous than before.
Mike watched all of it unfold from the safety of hidden observation stations deep within Thokt-controlled territory.
A projection displayed the destruction of an entire binary system as two C’tan entities collided amidst collapsing stars.
Reality fractured around them while dimensional shockwaves erased nearby fleets instantly.
Even through observation filters, the scale of power remained terrifying.
A cryptek spoke quietly.
“The galaxy destabilizes further with each conflict.”
Mike remained still.
“Yes.”
Another projection appeared beside the first.
Blackstone lattice structures.
Containment arrays.
Trap networks are hidden across multiple systems.
The final phases were nearing completion.
While the C’tan fought and consumed one another, the Thokt Dynasty continued preparing in silence.
Blackstone deposits had been integrated into vast hidden frameworks beneath dead worlds and abandoned systems nanite-enhanced pylons linked together through dimensional synchronization networks.
A prison.
Not yet complete.
But close.
Very close.
Mike walked slowly through the command chamber while calculations flowed endlessly through his consciousness.
The C’tan believed themselves eternal.
Invincible.
But Mike understood something they did not.
Every system had weaknesses.
Even gods.
Especially gods driven by hunger.
He stopped before the central projection displaying the remaining major C’tan entities.
Their numbers had already diminished.
Their paranoia increased constantly.
Perfect.
The galaxy continued burning around them while they destroyed each other willingly.
And beneath that chaos, Mike’s true plan approached completion.
Soon, the star gods would discover that the greatest threat to their existence had never been the Old Ones.
It had been the servants they believed fully beneath their control.