Warhammer: I don't want to be a stinky can! ! !

Chapter 862 [304.] Towards Death
Sometimes, I always feel pain for no apparent reason——

But Trazyn knew that was an illusion, and his true sense of pain had long since disappeared along with his life and soul.

The race that fears death is eventually buried deep in the grave, the underworld fire burns quietly, it's time to put an end to it.

..............................

+Forward!!!+
Trazyn heard its voice tearing across the galaxy, but the army under its command did not need its roar, as more efficient and more ruthless radio waves had already been sent out.

Worse still, the intelligences that had taken over the Necrons' bodies had already anticipated Trazyn's orders.

Trazyn looked toward the distance - the destined enemy chosen by the Deathfearer, and stretched out his mechanical fingers fearlessly, pointing his sword at God.

+We shot down a god once! We can shoot him down again! In the name of Infinite Emperor Trazyn! +
There it was, the wild white that filled the galaxy, roaring wildly—the monster, the monster fed by the flesh and souls of the Necrontyr, the filth filled by the tears and desires of the Necrontyr, there it was, just like the C'tan monsters Trazyn had glimpsed.

Tens of thousands of years passed in the blink of an eye, and the Endless had seen countless star gods, some tyrannical, some cunning, but the only thing that remained unchanged was their ever-greedy and cruel core.

The one on the outside was roaring, with a huge ball of light burning, like an adult rushing into a group of children, swinging an axe wildly. It knew clearly and arrogantly that it was the only strong one here, the only "god" with the ability to crush others.

With one axe after another, the brilliant white that was drenched in the entire destiny easily swallowed up the ships that charged towards it. The sickle-shaped midnight shroud slid across the galaxy, spewing antimatter bullets at those outside.

The space was distorted, and the light of the stars was restrained and twisted within tens of thousands of hyper-dimensional arks. The edge of the crescent moon was smooth, and violent energy was sizzling inside.

The Silent King had already disintegrated the last of the megastructures, so the Necrons no longer had weapons that could truly compete with a complete Star God, but fortunately, the spear that the Silent King had sworn to leave behind pierced through the outer ones.

Now they are facing a star god who is beginning to break apart. This is also their last and only hope.

Every hundred Super Ark formed a formation, huge and dazzling, like pearls suddenly shining in the Milky Way, with destructive energy gathered in between - if Guilliman saw this scene, he would probably be dumbfounded. Facts proved that this was the Necrons going all out. When fighting the Empire before, the Silent King was still thinking about the issue of post-war recovery.

But Trazyn no longer cared about those things. The cowardly Silent King was unwilling to face the true extinction of his race. He would rather throw this mess to the Endless than bear the name of "the King of the Death-fearing and Exterminating Race".

In reality, the Necrontyr had long been destroyed under Szahrak's rule, and the Necrons were merely an echo of the Necrontyr civilization, but the Silent King was still deceiving himself - until it could no longer deceive itself.

Therefore, it gave this damned, great, and glorious title to Trazyn, asking Trazyn to decide and answer the question of "whether the Necrontyr are really going to be exterminated."

Trazyn, the chosen one recognized by all Necrons as the most insane, shameless, and disgraceful, but also the most affectionate, interesting, and closest to "Decerion Fearer", has to answer!
What was Trazyn’s response?
Just do it first!!!

The Thousand-Armed God, who had briefly ascended in dimension, reached out to its army. From afar, the star field of the Eye of Silence was like a beach after the tide receded, with tiny flashes of light falling on the beach, and each of them carried a breath that was enough to destroy an entire galaxy.

Trazyn felt as if he had billions of eyeballs. He could clearly see the deployment of his army in the galaxy, the internal structure of each ship, the engines running quietly, and the stars constrained in the energy compartments. The knowledge he originally possessed was revealed at this moment.

The Infinite One that used to love to split itself and roam the entire galaxy seemed to have really reached the other side of the endless world at this moment. It existed in every corner at the same time, maintaining the ship's engine at maximum efficiency and adjusting the angle of the artillery to the best. Then, Trazyn realized that "it" did not appear out of thin air.

What it is now, and what there are now billions of it, is the husk of every Necron that has lost its self.

The "Endless" descended into the soulless bodies of its kin, giving these metals a final touch of color similar to the soul, making them true Endless.

In a trance, Trazyn seemed to hear the residual sound in those metal bodies, the last complaints in the minds of the nobles, the loyalty of the generals before their death, and the cries of the civilians because of being forced to separate - not all Necrontyr were willing to undergo the body transformation ritual back then, and a considerable number of Necrontyr were dragged into the altar by the army of Szalak and his cronies.

Compared to the emotions of the first two, the wailing that followed seemed even more massive, like a tsunami or a burning forest. These necrophile civilians had never been taken into consideration by the ruling class, and even their resistance and struggle were all carried out within the nobility.

And now, by accident, Trazyn became the first royal family member to truly and squarely respect these civilians and slaves.

These intermittent remnants remained in the bodies of those "faulty" Necrons, evading system updates and cleanups time and again, lying quietly in an inconspicuous position in a storage module, and then one day at a certain moment, suddenly causing the Necron to let out a mournful cry, and then be drowned in the ruthless green light.

In a flash, Trazyn suddenly understood too much. Perhaps now was not a good time to reflect, but Trazyn was not a good general. So he was distracted for a moment - he made sure that it was only that short moment and did not delay the war at all.

What does it remember?

The Endless Trazim remembered a small dynasty porcelain jar it once collected, on which the daily life of a civilian family was depicted with rough strokes; it remembered a small hand-woven doll it once collected, which came from a Necrontyr child; it remembered a pen it once collected, which had written countless histories, from... from the former Necrontyr Trazim.

It suddenly understood its own obsession to collect those collections. The former historian Trazyn was stubbornly using those collections to get a glimpse of the history behind them - but now it finally realized that what it was looking at was not history, but those necrophiles who had once lived, in the world, in the galaxy, and who were trying to survive under a huge destiny.

History is nothing but the ordinary days of the past.

What Trazyn really wanted to grasp were those moments - those past events that he once thought were ordinary, every pulse, every breath, every thought, when the Necrontyr could still think freely, their race had not yet perished, everything was still possible, they could still be arrogant, they pointed their swords at the Old Saints, and challenged the Star Gods - because they were still alive, and living races always had infinite possibilities.

And now, everything is gone, leaving only a sudden cry of grief from the body of a Necron.

They are programs, and just programs. The historian Trazyn, who used to laugh and scold, has long been dead. What exists now is a machine that imitates it vividly, stubbornly trying to hold on to the last fragment of personality - Trazyn's last dream, to give the Necrontyr a good result.

Huge, enormous sorrow and indignation exploded in Taraxin's heart. He felt vaguely that he was really a piece of shit. He was a historian in the past...but why didn't he take a closer look at the joys and sorrows of his own race? Why didn't he try harder and try to persuade Szalak?

+……+
Trazyn felt himself trembling. Could gods tremble? But he could only look at the outsiders attacking him. Even if Trazyn was an incompetent general, he couldn't just fall down. That would be the same as the irresponsible Silent King Szahrak.

Those "junk codes" buried in the deepest layers of the Necrons' thinking modules were dug out by Trazyn, and pieced together one sentence at a time to create a huge echo. The Endless heard the anger from the entire Necrontyrdom, and the machines that were originally controlled by the Endless with cold intelligence seemed to have some kind of self-awareness in a trance.

Of the resentment and anger that had persisted for tens of thousands of years among the Necrontyr, only these remained, nothing else.

Towards the Silent King - but Szalak was already dead - and then towards the Star God - the Star God who had deceived them with every word, devoured them bit by bit, devoured their souls, and ate their bones.

The anger and unwillingness were overwhelming, and the fate that had been hanging in the balance for tens of thousands of years was finally coming to an end. The outsiders who had fled from the stage tens of thousands of years ago were finally illuminated by the spotlight of the necrophiles again. Billions of pairs of green eyes lit up, like a pack of hungry wolves - it was time to end it. They had already paid the price and died, but why was the murderer still at large? The tombs were broken open, and the dead who had been buried for tens of thousands of years stretched out their hands from the soil and crawled out of the tombs hideously.

Trazyn shuddered, watching the flames in front of the muzzle grow brighter, watching the giant hand of the outsider distorting reality slap down, but was dodged by the suddenly accelerated Necron warship.

It seemed to hear Orrick's whispered sigh - Trazim, you have some skills - no, Trazim is still the unreliable Necron, but now the Outers are facing not only Trazim, but the entire Necrontyr.

But Orikan, who insisted on escaping from the Necrontyr, would not understand that this astrologer held his head high day and night, cast his wise eyes between the stars, and questioned his own fate.

But they have never bowed their heads as deeply as the Endless Ones, buried their bodies to dig out the mud on the ground, wiped off the evidence of the existence of civilization and life one by one, and placed them in the museum.

This is the biggest difference between Tarazin and Orikan, and also the biggest difference between Tarazin and other Necrontyr royal families.

A bright light lit up, blurring Trazyn's vision - Trazyn felt as if tears blurred his vision, even though he could not cry now - the angry spear thrown by the Deathly Haunter pierced accurately into the broken gap in the Outer World Ring and pierced into the soft core.

The Outers screamed and pounced on the Necron ships with greed and anger - just like they did tens of thousands of years ago, the Star Gods would devour the souls and bodies of the Necrontyr as long as they wanted - as long as they did not touch the most powerful Necrontyr royal families, these actions were tacitly accepted.

But this time the Outsider will not get what it wants. It screams in anger, fear, and being fooled. The fruit it swallowed not only fails to replenish it with sweet juice, but instead explodes in its stomach and stings it. What it swallowed is nothing but garbage in the eyes of the Star Gods of the past. It is soulless and empty. How sad, but it is the consequence caused by the Star Gods themselves.

In the battle with the Necrons, no race will receive supplies. The vengeful dead will not let any race remove the golden bracelets inlaid with emeralds from its withered arms. No civilization can make good use of them, not the Tyranids, not the Greenskins, not the Eldar, not even the Star Gods!
Trazyn watched as a large area of ​​gray darkened before his eyes—certain colorful ancient emotions disappeared, destroyed by the Outsiders, and those memory storage blocks that retained isolated memories were destroyed.

It felt a pang of heartache, and also saw large chunks of Star God fragments splashing out from the gaps on the outside. The fragments were gushing out like magma, and the more complete ones nearby had begun to merge with each other.

Then, the fragments suddenly seemed to be captured by some strange gravitational net and began to fall towards the three nearby planets, where the spiritual energy was abundant.

But the largest of the outer ones—Trazyn's description of the outer ones changed from still complete to the largest of the outer ones—still existed, and still was angry.

Then let’s fight!
Trazyn roared!
Fight!!! Until their graves are ablaze with fire! Until their bones are completely reduced to ashes in the fire!!! The dead crawl out of their graves and throw open flames into their own magnificent tombs, symbolizing no turning back and no compromise. Then they dance! They dance the last dance beside the grand fire - representing regret, anger, unwillingness and relief.

Necrons! They are the dead Necrontyr! They are the dead of the entire galaxy - now they are going to drag the culprit who caused their own death into hell together! ! ! With absolute obsession and determination - they die towards the living, the dead will not die again, but they can use the fire that ignites their own rotten flesh and bones to hug their dead enemies tightly - and then fall down! Fall together into the abyss of the destruction of civilization and race, no longer exist!
Trazyn's vision was blurred as he watched the bright lights flashing again and again in front of him. In the distance, long-range attack weapons were raised in front of the tombs of countless Necrons. At this moment, the muzzles of guns on billions of planets converged on one point. Those controlled by Trazyn, those not controlled by Trazyn, and those that were once declared to be completely destroyed - the dead all stood up one by one.

Although standing up this time took up all their strength, after a few seconds they lost all support and fell apart into a few bones.

Perhaps Trazyn is a key, representing the last conscience, the last humanity, and the last bit of starlight left in the Necrontyr's soul. Among the entire Necrons, only two Necrons succeeded in ascending to godhood. One was Orikan, who voluntarily separated himself from the Necrons, and the other was Trazyn, who buried his head deeply and embraced the suffering and the insignificance.

Trazyn's ascension reverberated throughout the extent of Necron civilization - although the Necron themselves were not fully aware of it.

To be honest.

It was indeed not a good general - but fortunately it chose the Necrons, and the Necrons chose it.

Necrons - The Necrontyr will take their revenge upon themselves.

Those on the outside screamed in pain, attacks came from all directions - antimatter spears, anti-entropy light waves, dark matter rays... dazzling attacks, dazzling colors, time and space were stirred into a mess, it was too chaotic to be observed with normal thinking.

Every attack brought destruction, but the Star God was unable to obtain souls and fuel from these soulless armies.

Each blow was heavy enough, carrying with it a deep hatred and blood. Large pieces of debris splashed down, almost forming a river of suns of various sizes across the entire galaxy.

The attack was effective, although the largest group of outsiders was still a huge problem, although it seemed that there were not many of Trazyn's troops left and they could only hold out for a few more moments at most, and although the situation ahead was still unclear.

But in fact, this is the best destination they can reach by burning themselves.

The Outers are broken, and although they are still troublesome, they are no longer at the level of destroying the galaxy. When the Necrontyr came, they brought a chaotic subspace to the galaxy. Now that they are leaving, they hope to leave as much clarity as possible for the galaxy.

Their incompetent general was distracted again at this moment - of course it did not affect the battle situation, because the one who was truly commanding the battlefield now was the last echo of the "Deathfearer".

How will future civilizations describe this war between the Necrons and the Star Gods?
Trazyn thought with a shudder, it had returned to its original form, a historian.

Blood feud.

This, it thought, was the best word to describe it. The blood feud was too deep to be described in words. It was enough, enough. The anger of the race was enough to make the dead open their graves, give up their last hope, and drag the other side into hell together.

Trazyn suddenly felt miserable.

It was in pain, very painful. Although Trazyn was not a good general, he was a good historian. It suddenly realized that it might be the last and only witness of this tragedy. Apart from it, no one could truly understand the significance of this war.

Necrontyr, Necrons, that was the end.

The Endless Trazyn felt very tired and wanted to say something, but Orikan would never understand it, and Szahrak would rather die than face such an ending.

It suddenly wanted Hades to wake up earlier. It wanted to talk to its alien friend - at least they had the same views and positions on this aspect. Maybe Hades would pat its shoulder and then sigh silently.

But what could Hades say? After all, he was not a necrophile.

Trazyn shed tears, the last and only survivor.

They will eventually fall on their way to life.

(End of this chapter)