Conclave: Awakening (Lore)

Δ Initialization Sequence Engaged…..

Δ All Systems: Nominal 

Δ Time Elapsed: 54.379.322 cycles

Consciousness. Cold. Hesitation.

Where was he? Who was he? How long had passed? 

Slowly the memories came flooding back into his mind. Betrayal. Stabbed in the back by those he considered gods. Foolish. Anger. White-hot, consuming, filling his essence. He felt the emotional control engrams douse his rage with ice-water. He realized that he had chosen to leave behind the shackles of mortality in pursuit of perfection. More memories still. He began to remember who he was, a High Cryptek, a magister in service to the Silent King…

What was his name? He struggled to remember, he needed to dive deep through the years of his stasis. They called him The Archivist. A Librarian. A Collector. The embodiment of all the knowledge his people, the Necrontyr, had accumulated. His personality subroutines began to reassert themselves as he slowly stepped from the alcove, his home for nearly the last 54 millennia. At the center of the dim chamber lay his command dais, from whence he could control the station. All throughout the room small scarab-like nanomachines scrambled to and fro, an intricate weave choreographed by innumerable program sequences. Good, he thought, his creations had weathered the years and carried out his will. Flexing his cybermantic abilities, he called over his cloak, still in the charging bay where he had left it all those years ago. With a silent hiss the canoptek cloak attached at his back and allowed him to glide over and directly interface with the command panel. 

As his mind integrated with the system, the rest of his memories came flooding back. His task, one of the few commandments given by the Silent King before his self-imposed exile, was to rebuild the ancient lore-banks of the Necrontyr people. His mission was to ensure that the Necrons would never lose their illustrious histories, his obsession had been to maintain the cultural heritage and accomplishments of his people. Allowing his mind to fully delve into the sensory data the Archivist let the raw information flow over him, breaking like a wave upon a glinting metallic beach. He could feel the entirety of the station stretch out below him, the thousands of constructs skittering through its corridors, the millions of scarabs crawling among the data-retaining stacks. The station that he was now a part of was once known to the Necrontyr as the Ascendant Truth, a monument to their greatest accolades. Originally created to be free from the dominion of any single Overlord or Dynasty, the Ascendant Truth has only ever been administered by an independent group of Crypteks and defended by the myriad constructs at the disposal of the Necrons.

Sending his mind through the deepest and darkest corridors of the space station the Archivist could see all of the damage wrought by the passage of the millennia. Nearly a quarter of the station remained in serviceable condition but the rest would need heavy repairs before being able to serve its intended purpose. Like a spirit returning to its host body the Archivist returned his conscious mind back to his metallic frame. Turning his attention over to the log entries created in the long years of his absence he began to glance over a few of the reported incidents.

Cycle 0: BEGIN HIBERNATION 

Cycle 11.324: METEOR STRIKE RECORDED ON HULL PLATING, CATASTROPHIC DAMAGE ACROSS MANY SYSTEMS

Cycle 246.909: AELDARI INVADERS DISCOVERED AND ERADICATED, NUMBER OF CANOPTEK CONSTRUCTS LOST: 12.879

Cycle 7.324.121: SUPPLY STORES AT 10%, SWITCHING TO LOW EXPENDITURE PROTOCOLS

Cycle 22.640.112: PROXIMITY ALERT: SUPER NOVA DETECTED, DAMAGE REPORTED

Cycle 54.379.322: RESURRECTION ORDERS RECEIVED, COMMENCING AWAKENING  

The Archivist surmised that this last order was what had brought him out of his slumber. He had hated the sleep, feeling the weight of years pushing against his metallic frame. All those years passed without consciousness, he vowed that he’d never again let himself be laid to rest again. Clinking his metallic fingertips on the console the Archivist pulled up a manifest detailing his resource compliment. Running the planning protocols through his mind the Archivist began determining the best course of action for his current predicament. The scarabs would need raw resources to begin rebuilding the data-stacks, luckily some of the remaining Eternity Gates aboard were still functional, allowing him the ability to mount an assault on a mineral rich planet if need be. But that could wait, first he must begin mustering his constructs he thought. Rousing his canoptek legions with an impulse spike from his mechanical cortex the Archivist began the long and arduous task of reawakening his subordinate crypteks. Each of their specialties would be necessary to rebuild the Silent King’s Archive. The final task to cross his mind gave him pause, long ago he had vowed never to rely on the C’tan again, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Placing his hand on the command dais and sending an imperative to unlock the Tesseract vault beneath his feet, the High Cryptek summons his most valuable asset. A once mighty star god, shackled to his service, emerges from its prison, ready to carry out the will of the Archivist and through him the Silent King. The time has come to reclaim the stars once more…

Canoptek_wraith_necrons

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