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    Chapter Master Norminator's Avatar
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    Mar 2005
    Oxford, UK

    The Return of the Emperor

    Just suddenly felt like (after seeing a thread in 40k general) writing a short little piece about the rebirth (so to speak) of the Emperor, and the Imperium on the brink of doom.

    You'll probably find it a pile of baseless tosh, but I feel compelled to post it here anyway. All I ask is try and forget any limitations on the 40k universe as you know it and just accept this as a bit of fun. Oh well, here goes;

    (Note: The Void Dragon is referred to as a ‘he’ in this for ease of reading).

    For ten thousand years the Imperium of mankind endured, battling against myriad foes at its borders whilst stagnating and falling into superstition on the inside. Assailed by daemons, wracked with Heresy, assailed by hordes of unstoppable aliens all seemed doomed. Yet still, supported by soldiers numbering into the trillions it stood against the tide, but gradually being pushed back all the same.

    Until something stirred.

    Deep beneath the surface of Mars, the greatest Forgeworld in the galaxy, a truly ancient evil stirred. Waking up from their many million years of slumber the armies of the Void Dragon, the mightiest of the C’tan, they swarmed from the ground. It was the most dire threat that humanity had faced since the Horus Heresy, perhaps ever. Yet it would result in one of its defining moments.

    The Necron armies surged across the red surface of Mars, tearing through the monolithic factories and production facilities. Immense battles broke out as the Mechanicus forces met them, entire Titan legions being annihilated in the face of the colossal assault. At the head of the metallic advance stood the Void Dragon, an indestructible menace encased in a gleaming liquid metal body. Like a scythe he tore through all that faced him, whether it be man, machine or Warlord Titan. Orbital weapons released their payload upon the silver skinned legions, obliterating entire hives and destroying as many defenders as they did attackers. Yet still the implacable armies marched on forth, unleashing machines so powerful the like had not been seen for sixty million years. Calls were sent out across the Imperium for reinforcements, crying for any available marines to answer their need. Yet by the time they reached their destinations it was too late – Mars left a burning wreck as the Tech Priests unleashed their last and most potent weapons. Heavy tolls were taken on the newly awakened Necrons, yet their numbers were so overwhelming that it did not stay the advance. Hive by hive the planet fell, and as the last survivors were being cut down the Dragon set his sights on a new target. Terra.

    Mars’ red crust erupted as Necron vessels and war machines burst through, tearing out of their dark tombs into the ruins of the Mechanicus. Countless cohorts embarked onto the pulsating ships, powering up and preparing to make the short journey to the third planet. The Dragon swept aboard his craft along with his most powerful servants, lumbering armoured walkers and sleek close combat monstrosities following behind him. The Imperial fleet which had been launched from their base on Luna attempted to crush the enemy as they boarded, but vast Necontyr weaponry swatted them from the ground with crackling beams of energy. A small hope was conjured in the form of a legion of Imperator Titans, emerging from underground storage hangers, who fought through the surrounding Necron forces towards the Dragon’s ship. Nevertheless they were soon overcome by the volume of firepower disgorged at them, void shields overloading before they were torn apart by ferocious gauss energy. With this the Dragon decided to wait no longer, leading the readied tomb ships off the surface and towards Terra. Ripping through the planetary defences they made landfall en mass, disgorging onto the sacred surface of the Imperium’s heart. Normally the Dragon would have stopped now, feasting on the billions of creatures that surrounded him, sucking their essence out and leaving withered husks. Yet he could sense a far greater prize – a being of untold power, the like of which he hadn’t seen since the Old Ones last walked the mortal plane. Forming his most trusted servants together he led an unstoppable assault against the Imperial palace, literally smashing through the mile thick walls which surrounded the colossal complex. So fast and sudden was the attack that the defenders could do little but try and avoid being cut down it it’s wake, facing resistance in only the staunchest of the Emperor’s forces. Yet even this was little more than suicide, as no mortal could ever truly wound the unstoppable Void Dragon. As he swept towards the Eternity Gate the Emperor’s last defence readied to sell their lives at as high a cost as they could. The Custodes, guardians of the Golden Throne for ten thousand years, moved into defence positions and prepared for their deaths.

    The Eternity gate proved to be more than just a physical barrier for the Necron forces. Some form of barrier, not visible or at all tangible to the metallic warriors, blunted their advance, at some points literally forcing them backwards. At this point defenders who had been earlier swept aside rallied and started to attack the exposed rear of the Necron assault, inflicting heavy casualties in the process. The Dragon realised that he faced being ambushed, leading to a far more costly engagement than he planned for. With roar that hadn’t been sounded since C’tan and Eldar God last met on the battlefield he marshalled his strength, redirecting it ahead towards the gate. For the first time in ten thousand years it began to move, at first imperceptibly and then more and more, until eventually it was torn asunder and ripped aside. The Necrons poured through the breach, meeting the Emperor’s Custodes as they did so. Warscythes and other arcane devices were activated as they closed upon each other, the best that humanity could offer against the mightiest of the Necrontyr. One by one the mighty Custodes were overwhelmed and pushed back towards the throne, and although the Necrons paid a dear price they did not stall. Seizing his chance the Dragon raced towards the gleaming edifice in the centre of the throne room, the towering structure that housed the Emperor of Mankind. Bullets bounced off his armour as he raced past automated turrets and genetically engineered guards, feeling nothing as he prepared to feast. He could almost taste the sweet essence of the once mighty being who was entombed before him. Upon reaching the summit he was almost surprised by what he saw; a shrivelled husk covered in wires and tubes and linked to huge machinery below him. But this was what he had come for; this was his prize. Moving slowly forwards he suddenly noticed a tiny flicker in the figure’s face; something so small that only a C’tan could have noticed it. There it was again, but this time bigger. Suddenly the Dragon froze, though for reasons he could not understand. His entire necrodermis became rigid and unmoving, changing from its supple form to as hard as granite in a nanosecond. Then step by step he felt himself walking backwards, senses still pinned on the seated presence in front of him. Then slowly the human rose, cables falling free of the withered skin, sparks crackling around their exposed ends. The Void Dragon gazed on puzzled – he had never felt anything like this before. The upright figure opened one eye and stared straight at the C’tan. If Star Gods weren’t incapable of feeling fear he would be terrified now. Instead the Void Dragon, greatest of the C’tan, destroyer of the Eldar Gods and devastator of civilisations merely felt what mortals would call surprise, something he had never felt in his entire existence. Energy started to crackle around him, arcing around the throne room and destroying anything that was unfortunate to lie in its path. The Chaos Gods turned their attention to the battle, as the power the Emperor was drawing upon rivalled even theirs. The only difference was, unlike theirs, it was focused on one spot. Across the Galaxy thousands of Eldar farseers, suddenly aware of the collosal event, joined in unison, their might converging together with the Emperor’s. Every single human stood still as their full psychic potential was harnessed for the final attack.

    And then it was unleashed.

    Sending out a shockwave that was felt by every warp sentient species, from Tau to Ork, the Emperor entirely obliterated the Void Dragon from the material universe. Calling upon the help of even the Chaos Gods, who had stood powerless to stop the C’tan before, he avenged the Old Ones and banished the Dragon for all eternity, locking him away deep inside the flowing warp from where he would never escape. Turning his gaze upon the Necron forces battling through the palace he smashed them aside, psychically destroying them and leaving their ruined components scattered across the ground. He felt the power of the Old Ones flowing through him, renewing him and healing the wounds he had suffered at the hands of his lost son all those thousands of years ago. As the Old Ones’ power left his body he looked out upon the Custodes standing before him and smiled.

    He was back.

    Comments and criticism (I expect more of the latter ) are welcome, as well as questions on the murdering of fluff that I've commited.
    Last edited by Norminator; 02-10-2006 at 15:03.
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