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

Chapter 865 [307.] Falling Moon's Last Words
The Milky Way is brilliant.

It was unknown how many times that Taraxin looked up at this magnificent Milky Way, this vast galaxy that gave birth to infinite wisdom and civilization. In the eyes of this intelligent being who had briefly ascended to godhood, whether because of his ascension or because this was the last time he would look at the starry sky, the sky now looked more splendid and strange.

It thought it would be filled with emotion, but in the end it looked relaxed and at ease, as if it had been looking forward to this step for too long, as if when it was dragged and thrown into the bio-conversion furnace by three Necrontyr warriors, Tarasim had been looking forward to this day and this moment.

The Endless One only strode forward. It had no ingenuity in battle, nor any genius in military leadership - otherwise it would have been a higher-level noble of the Necrontyr, not just a historian.

But this historian had his own vast collection of treasures. He piled them up in a high pile and then burned them casually, letting the flames from the burning of the collection illuminate the galaxy.

The fate of the Necrontyr ended here, along with the fate of the ancient star gods. Trazyn gladly accepted this ending. It was not as stubborn and greedy as the Silent King. It was enough to shoot down the last ancient star god.

Trazyn strode forward, opening his arms - these were all movements imagined by Trazyn. In fact, after becoming a god, he was not very clear about how he moved. He could only imagine that he was still the same Deathly Haunter, but no longer tired, but full of energy.

A scream, like a chorus of billions of ghosts, pierced Trazyn's cheek and exploded from the large ball of light in front of the Necrontyr. The Outer One, whose corner was broken by the Necrontyr, was like a deformed egg that was bred for some monster. In a trance, Trazyn felt that it contained the malice of the entire physical galaxy.

A heart-wrenching scream came from behind it - perhaps it came from Orrican, and it could only come from Orrican, Trazyn thought indifferently. For this mortal enemy, Trazyn was sorry to leave it in the future, but this was also Orrican's own choice. Orrican never considered himself a Necronist, nor did he want to be responsible for the Necronist civilization.

People with different ideals cannot work together. This is why they are mortal enemies. After a brief alliance, they will eventually go their separate ways.

Trazyn thought frankly.

It ignored Orrickan's cries. The roar of the Outer Ones occupied all its senses. It felt itself attached to those flat black crescent moons in a fluid energy state.

Originally, the ships of the Necrontyr did not look like this, but after undergoing the bio-transformation ritual, these transportation vehicles that treated crew members and passengers more roughly became the new favorites of the Necrontyr. In the beginning, when these ships accelerated at superluminal speed without inertia, they would toss the crew around like circus balls.

It's as if they have never been very kind to their own civilization from the beginning.

Trazyn thought speechlessly. Now he no longer thought of anything else. He stared at the Outer One in front of him, the roaring and snarling monster, the one who deceived the Necrontyr and caused several civilizations to fall into the abyss, the god of greed who never knew how to satisfy.

Trazyn was vaguely worried about Hades. He didn't know whether he had cultivated a new monster, but he had fulfilled his duties as much as possible. Now a small part of the Necron army was left behind the front line, led by the Crowned General Zandrick, responsible for connecting with the Mechanicus of the human empire - to prevent another monster from growing from the depths of the galaxy.

But Trazyn wasn't too worried - the prerequisite for growing into a giant was greed, and the Hades he knew was a man who knew how to stop in time - he hoped that Hades could still maintain his bottom line even in a polluted state.

Good luck to this galaxy.

Trazyn shook his head and moved forward at full speed. The ship it was attached to broke through the waves like an arrow and rushed straight to the huge crack on the outside with great anger.

Their speed is so fast that it transcends time and space. Thousands of glittering threads of destiny converge here, as if trying to pull back this destined arrow, but it is doomed to be futile. Trazyn is determined to smash the Outsiders, and this is the only chance - they can no longer watch the Star God heal.

Finally, at last, Trazyn listened blankly to the screams of the Outer Ones - until the moment when it was finally smashed and split apart, never to be restored, the Outer Ones only screamed in confusion and pain, unable to utter any complete words. This star god who had exiled himself for too long had gone completely mad, and had become a madman, a madman who did not have to take care of anything. This was the existence that this galaxy feared the most.

Finally, as the last kings of the Necrontyr civilization, what kind of impact should the Necrontyr, or the Necrons, leave on this galaxy?
Trazyn thought that as an ancient civilization, it believed that the Necrontyr should leave some last words, which was better than the Old Saints leaving without saying goodbye - although those mollusk-like creatures lurking in the warp were too kind and intelligent.

Ah, as a historian, it knows what it should say.

But could it speak these words? As the final destination of a civilization, would it be unworthy of its brilliant civilization to leave these words? But it seemed that leaving a last word was good enough, better than those Eldar who screamed and then died suddenly - Trazyn thought this was also a cold joke, the Eldar who liked to tease civilization the most with words and prophecies did not have the opportunity to leave a last word.

Well, Trazyn finally decided to say so, saying exactly what Trazyn had written in front of its coffin tens of thousands of years ago when it accepted the order from the Silent King and was about to fall asleep. It changed the words to make them more suitable for the context, but the essential meaning remained unchanged.

The violent energy turbulence of the Outers hit it, but before they reached the optimal attack distance, the energy particles spewed out by the Outers had almost torn the ship apart.

Those Black Scythe ships that originally had a smooth and sleek appearance had long since become bumpy, revealing the undesigned skeletons underneath. The tiny living metals struggled to wriggle in an attempt to restore the ships, but in the face of the violent offensive, they were just a drop in the bucket.

Trazyn roared, and felt himself transform into a ball of extremely bright light, covering the last fleet of the Deathfearers, blocking the attack of the outsiders for them - a madman, a makeshift person who could not use any skills. The contest between them had turned into the simplest and crudest energy confrontation. Trazyn felt that the energy he contained was rapidly decreasing.
The good news is that although this energy is not enough to support them to return home, it is enough for them to launch a suicide charge.

Of course, don't forget to leave a few high-end last words. Trazyn shook his head coolly and held his head high. Anyway, his reign was not long, so these words would most likely be attributed to the Silent King by later civilizations. In this way, even if what Trazyn said was biased, his reputation would be preserved.

Still no idea how to make a sound—so Trazyn still relied on his imagination.

It imagined itself walking up the platform step by step, the light from the outside burning the living metal turning into the dazzling light of the platform, shining on it——

Trazyn, the last emperor of the Necrontyr civilization, the culprit who destroyed the Necrontyr civilization, the clown who stole the imperial power, the thief who betrayed the civilization. It nodded the microphone in front of its mouth and coughed.

The screams of the outsiders were deafening, and the light almost turned into a real ocean, rushing towards Trazyn. Looking up, he could not see the edge of the sea of ​​light.

+Ahem.+
Trazyn coughed, then opened his mouth and spoke solemnly,
+To those who come later, this is *civilization. +
(Direct translation of Necrontyr's Egyptian)
Trazyn took a deep breath. At least as a god, he could breathe instead of simulating breathing like the Necrons.
+Standing at the end of civilization, I am sorry for the pain left in the galaxy. For the prosperity of our race, for the eternal prosperity of civilization, or simply to survive in this cruel galaxy, we have taken many wrong paths and done many wrong things, which led to the eventual destruction of our civilization and caused further chaos in the galaxy. +
+But we solemnly declare here that we have paid a heavy price for our wrong actions, and from now on we will use the strength of the whole clan to repair our previous mistakes——

At the end of civilization, civilization chose to use our last remnants of civilization to perish together with the products of past mistakes. We are unwilling to linger on, and decided to atone for our sins one last time, leaving as much hope as possible for the galaxy. +
+I, the last ruler of the Last Descendant, hereby declare the official end of civilization in atonement for my mistakes. +
+Use your own destruction as a warning to all those who come after you——+
+Hubris is the first and last sin of civilization. +
+Superbia vitae exitium est+
When a bird is about to die, its cry is sad; when a person is about to die, his words are kind.

The last step is to apologize.

Trazyn thought - this is obviously a bit embarrassing for a civilization. A strong monarch would never leave such a shameful last words. This is a self-deprecating act that nails civilization to the pillar of shame. If the Silent King heard these words, he would probably be so angry that liquid metal would spit out of his mouth.

But Trazyn was neither a good general nor a good emperor. He was a good historian - and the historian's mission was to learn something from history, to use history as a mirror to understand gains and losses, although Trazyn's greatest realization was that the Necrontyr had learned nothing from history.

It really wanted to say that, until the end, the stubborn Silent King did not apologize to the Necrontyrdom that it had completely destroyed, nor did he apologize to the entire galaxy that had been torn apart and the warp disrupted.

The Silent King cannot say these words! He dare not say them! Good words cannot come out of a dog's mouth! Let the shameless Taraxin say them!
Anyway, the entire race no longer exists, why should we care about that little bit of face?! No matter how people in the future judge the merits and demerits, they will not hear it. Trazyn has seen a lot. Which alien race has not scolded the Necrontyr after seeing the history of the Necrontyr?! It is better to leave some kind words, some persuasion, and some relief at the end, and save some reputation for the Necrontyr.

Trazyn was a little angry about the Silent King's joy.

+Finally, on behalf of my civilization, I sincerely wish the rest of the civilizations in the galaxy to prosper and thrive. +
The Endless One emphasized the last two words, as if he was speaking to someone face to face.

kind.

The qualities that the ancient sage civilization mastered at the beginning were only learned by the death-fearing civilization at the end.

How could this not annoy Trazyn, but it had done the best it could - who remembers that it was just a historian? !
But it doesn't matter. There has never been a better Necrontyr since Trazyn! Nor a better historian!

Trazyn rushed towards the fire like a moth to a flame - although it and its fleet were not moths, but arrows powerful enough to shoot down gods, and the fire was not warm, but brutal and crazy.

It ignored the nearby galaxies, the surprise and exclamations of the humans who received its last words; it ignored the nearby planets, where the Primarchs looked up suddenly after receiving its last words, their eyes full of fear and despair; it ignored the noisy and heart-wrenching screams behind it, the weaver of fate, the god who controlled the planet, perhaps yelling at it because of Trazyn's shameful last words -

Countless threads of fate were manipulated by the Star Master to rush back towards Tarazim, as if they wanted to weave a giant net to drag Tarazim back. But in front of Tarazim who was determined to leave, those threads were soft and just like the willows that brushed away the bad luck and dust for him. They brushed past him and showed him a beautiful scenery ahead - there was light there, just like the afterlife.

Oh, claiming to be the master of destiny, but in the end it is not the predetermined ending, Trazyn thought sarcastically, but maybe this is the ending that Orrickan is trying to ensure.

do not.

Trazyn opened his mouth and spoke silently at last, then he leaped towards fate in a not-so-elegant manner, breaking away from the silk rain composed of the threads of fate. His left wrist, which was swung back by inertia, still had the last thread of fate hanging on it, swaying like a spider's silk.

It and its fleet fell into the ocean of light.

Subsequently,

Its daybreak.

The sky here is not the narrow "atmosphere near the planet" in the vocabulary of backward civilizations, but the sky in a broader sense - referring to all the external information received by the senses of these backward civilized creatures when they raise their heads.

Everything lit up and turned white. The void, the warp, the eternal sun, the stars, the fleets as crowded as ant colonies, the little people standing on the planets - everything disappeared briefly in this moment, covered by an absolute white light, covered by an existence that was screaming, screaming the concept of "pain" to all civilizations and senses.

This vast expanse of white seemed to run through the beginning of time and space, seemed to be eternal, yet seemed so short that people thought they were just distracted for a moment.

Then, as they tried to blink their confused, tearful eyes upward toward the sky, they would see an enormous waning moon falling from the full circle toward the nearest star.

Countless tiny dots of dim debris fell together near the waning moon, like extinguished meteors.

There were lives that once made wishes devoutly to those shooting stars, but now they no longer shine.

(End of this chapter)