The young wolf scout went down the jet black stairs, disappearing in darkness that even his senses enhanced by the dreaded Canis Helix had trouble piercing.
He was alone; his pack shot down by a corrupted space marine patrol and doomed to find his way out of chaos territory. He knew he should not have stopped upon seeing the strange, black column emerging from the ground in the forest.
The stairs were stretching endlessly.
The nature around the column indicated that it have been there for centuries, maybe even more, but it was left untouched by the ages, as good as new. It was made of a strange metal he had never seen before and was adorned by a single strange symbol which started to glow an unholy green at his approach.
He finally reached the stairs at the end and entered a large chamber which seemed made of the same metal as the column and the stairs.
As the entranced opened in front of him, he knew that he just found something. He was not going back now that he had a new discovery to add to his saga. As he was passing the entrance, he thought for a moment of how foolish he was, but shoved this thought away: the honour of discovery shall be his.
He looked back to the stairs and noticed the ornamental statue guarding it. It represented a kind of skeletal robot armed with a strange gun ending with a wicked blade. The statue remembered him of something, a story that he had with the scout sergeant around a campfire, but he could not remember what.
He stepped closer and advanced his hand to touch it. He was so close of remembering, maybe it could help him. It was made of the same metal he had seen from the start, how strange...
The story exploded in his head and he knew what this thing were ; a necron; one of a million unholy robots powered by lethal gauss energy. A part of an endless tide of self-repairing metal whose guns would tear you out atom by atom until there is nothing left to see. Going down there was a very bad idea.
Absorbed in his revelation, he missed the mechanical revving that started all around the room. He did not miss, however, the green glow that appeared in the statue’s cold eye socks.
He reacted with astonishing speed, the speed of the mighty astartes, took his chain sword and, even as the atrocious being readied his gun that glowed with gauss energy, tried to take his head off. The mighty adamantine blade bounced off the strange metal, causing no apparent damage.
Unaffected, the necron warrior unleashed hell. A continuous arc of sick green energy touched the wolf scout, efficiently disintegrating his armour. Before it took away his flesh, the space marine struck again with his chain sword and this time managed to attain his target’s nervous system.
The necron collapsed on the ground, green arcs of unholy green energy coursing all upon his wrecked body.
The wolf scout hadn’t noticed it yet in his battle frenzy, but a dim green glow was now illuminating the room. It was huge, long and large. He took a run to the other end, from where the glow seemed to come from and discovered it was a balcony. He glimpsed out of it and was astonished. An even huger, circular space was out there with a lot more balconies all around it. He allowed himself to look down. It was stretching down endlessly with innumerable more levels, each of them containing dozens of balconies. It was stretching even so endlessly that the mighty space wolf, even with his eyes a thousand time better than those of a mere human, could not see the bottom of it that seemed to disappear in the source of the sick glow.
Instantly, he stepped back and took off his vox-communicator and described the necron tomb and gave his position. So doing, everyone would know of the rising necron threat. He was now sure to not get out of there without getting caught by chaos space marines, but such discovery was all the more important than his life. Mid-Way through, he saw something walk out of the floor. It was an elongated necron that seemed to shift in and out of reality, hovering on and through obstacles as if they were mere mist to him. It seemed to agitate his foot long, scalpel-like and horribly sharp fingers in his direction as if it was a challenge.
The astarte remembered the fire-camp stories of his sergeant and knew a mere space marine could not best such a beast. But yet, he had a last card to play.
Forgetting all caution, he took off his helmet and called upon the curse that had been his all these long years. He let his permanent control over his genetic curse flicker and disappear, knowing full well there was no coming back now. His body twisted, bone and muscle fusing while long claws tore through his gauntlets. Fur sprout everywhere and sharp fangs grew in his fast lengthening mouth. In bare seconds, the curse of the wulfen took its toll and, letting go of his humanity, the cursed space wolf howled all his fury to the unholy creature facing him.
His horrible sounds of agony were broadcasted by his still-functionning vox-communicator everywhere in a fifty miles radius. The space wolves, recognizing one of their own in the wulfen sounds, fast arrived to see what happened. The new inquisitor of the ordo malleus, having just arrived, gathered his forces and went there to purge whoever did it and both factions made an uneasy truce in order to clean the necrons emerging from the ground. They were few and victory seemed easy when dark eldar emerged from the webway, seeming to reinforce the necrons.
