Story:False Immortality

A story about a ancient Necron Immortal pondering his (un)life as he stands guard over his lord and master.

Story

Inner peace is death, there is only passion.

Through passion, I gain distinction.

Through distinction, I gain strength.

Through strength, I gain victory.

Through victory, my chains are broken.

My rage has set me free! – Attributed to Retvayn. Reluctant Immortal

I awoke. Yet I had been awake for millennia upon millennia before. I had died. And yet I had been reborn. Countless times. And yet I had never lived for eons. And each resurrection left me a little more dead. A little less awake. Conscious but brain dead. Brain dead but possessing no real brain to speak of. Yet I awoke. And maybe I had been awake for millennia. My immortal body fell from the face of the glacier like fruit from a long dead tree. My mind so lacking in stimulus for so long had lost any form of a concept of time. For so long there had only been the now and the past. In the now there was nothing but the relentless pressure and the cold of the ice. And in the past there had been nothing but dimness. all things drab and dull and boring. In the height of battle, in the moment of dying in the soothing sleep. Everything experienced, removed in the spam of a second. Nothing alive. Nothing vivid. In the dawn time, a time before coldness, in a time of hate and apocalypse unending. I remember… I remember the carnage and the slaughter. I remember… I remember the slaughter. I remember… I remember the blood on these hands. Blood on these cold hands now animate but utterly dead. I killed and I butchered and I massacred beyond the measure of numbers, and I felt nothing. None of us did. None of us felt anything. Ever.

Our immortality was a lie. We are not even echoes of our former selves. We are… were… shadows of shadows of shadows of our former selves. I was present when we finally coaxed the gods down the Light Bridge and into the bodies we had built with the utter heights of our sciences. We were so proud of our selves. We were so overjoyed. We were triumphant beyond the dreams of arrogance. We were so damned. Damned beyond the measure of any hell you care to name.

And here I stand now over an incarnation of a god. An aspect of divinity. I see it begin to stir in its sarcophagus. A living tomb to withstand the barrage of time. Eternity may well be relentless but inside that glorified coffin it could never reach. A void in both entropy and energy.

And here I stand. Gauss flayer in hand.

I remember… I remember the gift of immortality. Many, so many, resisted. But not me. I was one of the first. Others had to be dragged kicking and screaming. But not me. I skipped and danced gleefully over the lip of damnation. I was burned and devoured utterly. And I was killed. But I was reborn. Transmuted from one form into another. My blighted, irradiated, flawed, beautiful flesh was nothing but an empty husk. A discarded remnant. I had shed my skin. I was re-made. I was immortal. One of the first of legions upon legions.

Immortality is a lie.

To be alive is to die. To be transitory is to grow. To be ephemeral is to change. To be mortal is to feel. To be immortal is to be untouchable. To be touched at all is to give meaning to a worthless existence. Now I am never to be touched. And it is cold. Utterly cold. Utterly dead.

And here I stand. Finger ready on trigger. Watching over my sleeping god.

We did it out of hate and resentment and envy. We did it because… we did it because… we did it because… we did it because… we envied their life. We envied them their immortality. We ended our lives to tear away theirs. We deserved our damnation. And we deserved worse besides. We would cry out for forgiveness for our sins. But no one would listen. And we do not deserve forgiveness. We are beyond absolution and pity and mercy. We are utterly damned. Damned and forsaken. And it is cold where we are.

We were promised release from our wrecked and broken flesh. Promise fulfilled. Desire given. Wish granted. By a beautiful being in golden skin. And a smile like hateful sunlight.

Wretched Deceiver.

Here I stand over your resting place. An incarnation of you. A mirror of your many aspects. One avatar among many. How you have flourished.

I was your first. Damnation is on my head.

You lied to us. Here I stand gauss flayer in hand. How I watch you sleep. How I hate you

My finger on the trigger. I was your first. And for the first time in eons I feel ANGRY!

I shall commit this deicide.

How you writhe in agony. How I envy that you can even feel that. How I envy that you can die. How I envy your death.

We have slept for too long. False gods awaken us to unlife everlasting. This shall never be again. Every last incarnation of the star gods I shall erase.

It is time for my brethren to rise.

The hunt is on.