M31.001 – Segmentum Obscurus – Deep Void
The silence between stars had always been his cathedral.
Darth Vader drifted alone in a vessel no longer recognized by Imperial registers. The sleek black hull of his cruiser — Midnight Verdict — was a dark arrow cutting through void and warp-space alike. The galaxy whispered around him, but within the void of his mind, it was the Force — now twisted through the Warp — that screamed.
He had learned to listen.
He had discarded what remained of Anakin Skywalker. He had served gods, tyrants, Empires. Now, he was something else — not merely a servant of Chaos, but a vector for its more ordered mutations. His blessings of Khorne and Tzeentch warred constantly within him — bloodlust and cunning, rage and foresight. But this time, something else stirred.
Something older.
In meditation, he saw obsidian monoliths buried beneath starless skies. Metallic warriors entombed in eternal silence. And at the heart of it — a presence that made even the gods of Chaos blink in curiosity.
It called to him.
Not through Warp… but through something more ancient. Something beyond the Immaterium. Logic. Eternity. A mechanical soul.
Vader opened his eyes.
"Plot course," he ordered his ship's AI — a daemon-warped thing that spoke in whispers. "Sector Xirion-Null. I must descend into memory."
---
Third Person: The Awakening Tomb
In the shadow of a dying star, Xirion-Null spun slowly in dead silence.
It was a barren world of ash and obsidian, long forgotten by maps and records. Yet beneath its crust lay the remnants of a dynasty lost even to the Necron themselves — the Sautekh splinter known as the Kha-Nemek, once rulers of sub-quantum warforms and chronometric science.
No signal emerged.
No activity stirred.
Until Vader landed.
The Midnight Verdict extended a single landing strut. The moment his boots touched the ash-choked surface, a pulse radiated from below — seismic in frequency, not Warp in nature. The ground trembled, and with it, reality quivered.
"Contact," he muttered. His saber hissed to life, casting a crimson glow.
He didn't use it.
Not yet.
---
Underground — First Chamber of Waking
Massive doors — carved with ancient glyphs and impossible angles — slid open before him without command. They recognized something in him. Not his power. Not his Force.
His will.
The corridor beyond descended in an impossible spiral — spatial laws folding inwards as if the world itself bowed to the one who entered. Vader moved with purpose, every footstep echoing across millennia. Green light flickered in walls, flickering to life. Statues of long-dead Necron overlords lined the halls — their faces devoid of flesh, but somehow judgmental.
He reached a chamber bathed in darkness — and the moment he stepped in, a dozen Necron warriors emerged from alcoves, weapons raised.
He did not flinch.
"I seek audience with the sleeping king," Vader said, voice booming through his respirator.
No reply came.
But the warriors did not fire.
Instead, a sarcophagus the size of a Baneblade hissed. Motes of suspended time glittered around it. A face — skeletal, regal, ancient — rose from the tomb with eyes lit in green fire.
The Overlord had awoken.
And he remembered.
---
"You are not of this galaxy," the Necron lord spoke, voice reverberating through circuits and air alike. "Yet you carry death as a native tongue."
"I am Vader," he said. "Once a man. Now… a force of war."
"You stand within Kha-Nemek domain. Speak your purpose."
Vader stepped closer. "You were forgotten. Along with entombed your brethren . I offer return. Power. Purpose."
A pause.
"Why?"
Vader tilted his head. "Because I feel your logic. And I share your ambition. The galaxy rots under Chaos and stagnates under blind gods. Together, we will rise above them."
The Necron lord stared. Slowly, he descended from his tomb. His movements were not jerky like his lesser kin. They were precise. Calculating.
"You are not Chaos."
"No," Vader answered. "I serve them. I do not belong to them."
The Overlord extended a finger. A neural link established. Visions poured between them.
Vader saw glimpses of ancient wars. The War in Heaven. The betrayal of the C'tan. The Necron Reawakening. He felt the cold logic of eternity. The Overlord, in turn, glimpsed the Warp. The Emperor. The Heresy to come.
Mutual respect formed.
"We will watch," said the Overlord. "But if you lie…"
"You'll try to erase me," Vader replied. "Good. You'd be the first in millennia to try."
---
Internal Monologue – Vader's Thoughts
They do not crave gods.
That is what makes them perfect.
The Necron are beyond the Warp's corruption. Their souls are caged — or gone. Tzeentch cannot twist them. Slaanesh cannot tempt them. Even Khorne, whose rage burns galaxies, sees them only as tools.
That is why I will use them.
They are a sword Chaos cannot turn.
This dynasty… this Kha-Nemek… they slumber still, waiting for purpose. They buried themselves before the Long Night, waiting for the galaxy to forget.
I will give them reason to remember.
---
Strategic Planning Room
The Necron Overlord, now fully animated, stood beside Vader in a command chamber. Ancient star maps unfolded in living metal. Vader pointed to regions of Imperial activity.
"These worlds are vulnerable. Strike without warning. Erode their logic. Do not announce. Do not reveal."
"You seek the collapse of man?"
"No," Vader whispered. "I seek its rebirth. But not under a false god."
"What of Chaos?"
Vader turned away. "They believe I am their pawn. Let them."
He reached into his belt and revealed a shard — a broken piece of a daemon blade once forged by Tzeentch himself.
"I've learned from them. I've bled for them. But I am no one's servant."
The Necron lord studied the shard.
"Then what are you, Darth Vader?"
The Sith Lord looked at the rising Necron legions.
"A harbinger."