20 years later and FINALLY the lords of my capital are awake. I mean, sure, I understand that Awakening safely and quickly are not mutually exclusive, and in truth, I was too busy to care, but... nothing. I don't care.
Anyhow, in 20 years, I managed to get a succinct picture of what is left of the dynasty. It is... heart breaking to be honest. If I had a soul it would be crushed. Most of the world's are truly dead. All necrons dead due to complications or invasions. All ork. The system defence fleets were untouched, but the ground units...
BY THE DEAD GODS IM GOING TO FLAY-
I stopped when I heard the throne crack. It infuriated me. To see my domain blemished so... They would pay, in time. Where was I? Ah yes. Monologing to myself about my gains.
The fleets where in great repair. I hadn't separated individual worlds from their fleets. Why would I? They weren't my equals. I gained some serapteks as well! 4 in point of fact along with innumerable amounts of other canoptek units... but the rest? Over 50 worlds just gone due to invasion. MORE to malfunction. The ONLY thing out of those worlds besides the Serapteks of worth were 2 C'tan shards! I COULD DO WITHOUT THANKS. I DONT WANT THE FRACTURED GOD SHARDS. I HAVE ONE.
11 worlds. I'm left with 11 star be damned worlds. OUT OF WELL OVER 200 FROM THE BIOTRANSFERENCE! DAMN IT ALL TO THE IMMATERIAL!
My lords could sense my rage keenly and said not a word. My 10 lords, for that is all I had for my court, stood in front of my throne, kneeling in supplication. While uncouth in normal circumstances, they thought it wise to not touch the angry overlord. Wise.
I give thought to my words, simply to relieve the tension in my reactor. It's purple light glowing deeper and somehow more malevolent.
"For millenia, I ruled my domain in the name of the Phaeron. For the dynasty I have given my all. It... hurts. For the fist time in millenia... I hurt...
This feeling... to watch all I strive for, all I served... crumble..." I stop speaking for a day. Then two. Then twenty.
"As the last remaining Overlord of the Vkeroketep Dynasty... I do declare that..." I pause, the words not coming out of my speaker. It takes another day to continue. "I do declare that the dynasty is dead. Simply... sigh simply there is so little left now, that it isn't worth pretending.
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The Phaeron lays dead, I am the last overlord, and what remains of our soldiers and citizens that could be recovered, have been. I now rule 11 worlds... sigh I will be blunt, my lords dear, I am lost. So I ask your counsel, lords of my court... what should I do? Let me hear your words. All will be listened to. The dynasty is dead. We remain." I state, opening the floor.
Xeravo, my primary fleet mistress, after a day's hesitation, started. "My lord, we should immediately send additional fleet support to the remaining 10 worlds. We've many idol ships. Perhaps too many. We have an excellent fleet as you know. We activate planetary defences, increase them, and reinforce with ships where necessary." She states.
Admittedly, I had already thought of that, she likely knew that as well, simply giving my thoughts to the other lords, something they would recognize.
After a short hour, Lord Zototek began to speak. "Overlord, what has happened is dire. Unprecedented even. But... it changes little in the long view. Your plan to kill off the other overlords went to plan, though no one could predict the total decimation we faced.
In the end, our plan should be the same. We await your vision of the future. Not passively. We will have to negotiate with the lesser races, I think, but to achieve your goals, it must happen. Even if they are unworthy." He states.
A dead silence ensues, due to what is basically sacrilege he just spouted. If it was one of the lesser lords of my domain, I have no doubt they would be broken systematically.
Even with this extremely liberal court I have made, his words tasted like acid from our reactors. But...
"Your words... have merit. I will consider them." I state. While true it was my aim all along, to talk with the lesser races, it was the plan to communicate from a position of strength. Now... at best, it will be equals.
After a month's consideration, with no more words said, I spoke. "Your words have been spoken, and I hear you. Wisdom stated, so I will follow. Fleet master, send what you deem we can spare from the now large stockpile of ship's to reinforce the ten worlds.
Zototek, your words have merit, so your duty is to now to find what passes for civilization in this sector of the galaxy. Take 10 ship's, avoid engagement if possible. Scout them. Bring me relevant information." I state.
After a moment's thought, I call out across the link. "Kerro, attend me." I state. Soon enough, the cryptek stands before me.
"Kerro, you are to awaken the crypteks you deem necessary for this: I soon will give you ideas on weaponry. Your task is to first tell me I'd it can be done, get a prototype, then prepare for mass production if I deem it necessary." I state. He bows, and leaves, not a word said.
"Now, with that done, go about your tasks. I shall assign more to those in need. Now, leave me... I've much to think on." I state.
When they leave, I draw my war scythe from my dimensional storage, and slash cleanly through the gigantic metal thone I sat in. It was rent asunder. And while it didn't help much, it helped some.
