Echoes of Eternity: A Warhammer 40k Necron Lord Quest

Xorathis floated in the Tomb complex's data streams. To any organic lifeform, it would have appeared as an endless amount of knowledge and processes, a void of searing cold and overwhelming precision. And that it was to the side of her that still clung to life in the most vital sense, the spark that no C'tan was there to consume. It hurt, really, but pain was an old friend.

To her other side, the unfeeling, ever-thinking machine, it was an extension of herself and her an extension of it. It appeared to her remorseless gaze as canyons made-up by variables and rivers of files. Temples of logs and updates soared to the sky alongside monoliths of protocols and instructions. Colossal slabs of processes sank and rose in unceasing motion. Massive pistons of updates and status moved with unceasing motion, while data-models floated as ever-changing liquid shape and authorizations ignited the air as bursts of lightning.

Security programs appeared as many-limbed insects, forever busy fishing bugs from data or weaving shimmering nets of correlations and exchanges. Angular behemoths carried macro-data in hundreds of tiny hands, while keen-eyed cyclops coaxed sub-routines to life with the touch of many tentacles.

A cyclopean city and a mighty brain all at once, Xorathis delighted in its stark efficiency, its ruthless industry. Yet, there and then, wrinkles in its perfect geometry attracted her attention, and, despite everything, aroused a quiet fondness.

Elation. Vindication. Relief. Hope. The emotions were small bursts of sparks amongst that sea of data. They came from those with enough wherewithal to understand the changes she was bringing to the complex with slight strokes of her hand and the meaning behind it. Mostly Lychguards, their undying loyalty shining as bright as a Gauss Core, but hesitant glimmering came from Immortals and Deathmarks too.

Xorathis understood the idiosyncrasies of many of her peers. Phaerons, Overlords, Arch-Crypteks and their inferiors; they all clung to their ways, be it conquest, indulgence, intrigue or self-aggrandizement. Few of them would admit it, but it was their way to stave off entropy, to repel madness. Obnoxious maybe, but as long as they could stir some measure of emotion in those cold, dead hearts, what protest there was to be had?

As for herself, she wasn't fond of dramatics. Changes in nomenclature and protocols, shifts in directives and priorities were more than enough. Her only indulgence was to free all those little consciences from their hard shells of metal for a moment, gather them to herself and show them that new beginning, writ large into the fake sky with her finger.

Mictlan. A promise. And so that was.

Rahotamen was a wisp of raw data as large as her fist there. She gathered him to herself, just as in the material world the Nano-Scarab containing her attention huddled on the marching Nemesor's shoulder.

"Are you happy?" She murmured, fond. "You found me."

The Nemesor's consciousness had been a bright spark of admiration back in the days, before everything, understanding and determination mixing with something warmer, which she wouldn't name, couldn't name. He had grown so cold since then, that will of his hardening into a pure core of adamantite that left little for warmth.

"Service is the greatest of fates," was the robotic answer.

Smoothly repressing the spark of sadness, Xorathis wondered how it must have been to traverse the stars for so, so long, only the vaguest hint to guide the way. To turn as frigid as the empty void without stars was not the worst destiny for such a venture but knowing it brought her no relief.

"Not so for many. Yet it was for you. For that, I commend you. For that, I honor you."

A spark of outrage, not at her, but to anyone who would doubt and falter. Fast and fleeting as it was, she grabbed it.

"Come to me later," she whispered among the seas of data and processes. "I would hear your stories from among the stars, of your journey and the many sights you bore witness to."

Something else now, an awkward little thing that brought memory back to the past, when Rahotamen looked at her with eyes that were alive and not optics of Gauss and metal.

"Much remains to be done. The Tomb…"

"...can wait," she completed, amused. "Come later."

A hesitation, like a moment of fidgeting. Little more than a ripple in a lake in the monolith that was his consciousness. She found it immensely endearing.

"New nomenclature has been added. Will you require new titles? To bear the proper respect."

She chuckled. "I left my old titles behind me a long time ago. What we have will do. But do not stop being cute, Rahotamen."

The shudder in his data centers translates to an almost missed step in the material world, and Xorathis chuckled again.

Leaving him to recover with an amused pat, she directed her attention to the organic. The humanoid, female by her logs, appeared to her receptors as a mix of organic and artificial components, many of which could be disrupted and attacked in a variety of ways. The attempt to reinforce a purely flesh and blood-based creature was clear.

The fleshling had been following Rahotamen for some time, glancing at her Nano-Scarab. Xorathis' readings of her sent back a state of heightened anxiety and stress.

"You worship the Machine."

The creature shuddered at being addressed, the message echoing through her audio receptors directly.

"Do you seek its certainty? Its strength? Its unfailing, infallible nature?" She scanned this young, naive child took in the mistakes and superstition of the civilization she represented, its hatred and love, its wisdom and foolishness, its enduring will to survive and dominate.

Naught but a tool, really, a specimen to be dissected and analyzed. Still, it aroused some measure of motherly instinct inside her. Maybe because this Mechanicus reminded her what they once were themselves.

"We conquered it a long time ago. The Machine and all there is among circuit and steel. Soon, we'll rise even further." The organic shuddered as another Nano-Scarab landed on her shoulder. She boggled at it, mouth working but no words coming out. Xorathis decided that it was an endearing sight, half-mechanical heart beating wildly and all.

"Of your Machine God, see, we are His messengers more than any myopic Magos or scheming fool. We can propel you to distances that they can't even dream of. If you'll allow us." She felt her breath hitch as the Nano-Scarab climbed on her neck, mechanics and organics components working overdrive to bring breath to augmented lungs. "Follow us. Go where the ship fell. Take what should be yours. We'll be watching."

The Nano-Scarab disappeared in a cascade of code and fragments, leaving her to her struggle not to collapse.

Sitting in her sanctum, Xorathis observed this child of a child kingdom, thinking how time was indeed a cycle.


--------------------

The rising sounds of industry filled the Canoptek Foundries as they awakened. Towering pillars covered with glowing glyphs saw spidery constructs enter and exit their honeycombed structures without rest. Rows of assembly lines slowly started moving after an age of silence, forests of spidery limbs moving to fix, build and connect while tangles of connectors and conduits blazed with reawakened lightning. Vats of liquid metal bubbled and fizzled, disgorging insectile skeletons and lumps awaiting their shapes.

Great machinery floated around the central core on tendrils of light, the nexus appearing as a column of flowing glyphs and a surging torrent of Gauss energy at the same time. From a multitude of passages, or appearing in flashes, Canoptek small and large brought minerals and resources mined from the planet's depths to feed the colossal forges, their efforts punctuated by surges of green fire.

Clacking, whirring, skittering and slamming filled the air alongside a steadily increasing, the smell of ozone and the crackling of power.

Standing on a Cryptek sanctum, the platform floating a few inches above the top of one of the forge-towers, Xorathis oversaw the awakening process. Sixty millions years of inactivity meant layers upon layers of routines to reactivate, failed processes to purge and cobwebs to dismantle. Years to work, yet it was nothing compared to what was endured. It was a testament to her people's sheer ingenuity that the place had suffered as little as it did, with only negligible damage to be erased. And luck. But that wasn't a very Necron way of thinking to be had, was it now?

While she worked, her interfaces sending out steady streams of instructions and inputs, one of her many receptors was in the task of being flooded with eager chattering.

"Ah, most illustrious High Mistress, Beacon of the Endless Horizon, Keeper of the Ascendant Vision," Ptolomes said, his signature in the Cryptek Laboratories radiating eager zeal. "ow fortuitous it is that you have deigned to grace my humble efforts with your sight! Your splendor illuminates even the deepest crypts of my laboratories, and, oh, how I have labored to craft wonders worthy of your unmatched vision!

Observe, if you will, this latest iteration of Canoptek Scarab! A marvel, is it not? I have recalibrated their consumption matrices to operate with a 7.3% increase in efficiency! They can now strip down a Uhn'Saekh battle tank to its barest molecular essence in a matter of seconds—seconds, I say! But that is not all. Oh no, no, no. I have also introduced a minor subroutine that allows them to prioritize the absorption of rare elements—useful, no? Imagine the battlefield resources we shall reclaim for your legions!

And then there is this—oh, this I am particularly proud of—an experimental enhancement to our Resurrection Orbs. Yes, yes, I know, a bold undertaking, but I assure you, it is well within my capacity. The new algorithm I've embedded allows for not only the standard reanimation of our warriors but also a temporary augmentation of their neural reaction speeds. Imagine our legions rising from the ash, not only restored but enhanced! A terrifying prospect for the lesser races, would you not agree?

But wait! Before you speak—and I know your wisdom will find these endeavors most agreeable—allow me to present my crowning achievement! Behold, the Tesseract Infusor! A modest name, I admit, but the device itself is anything but modest. With this, I have achieved a greater control over dimensional phasing. Entire regiments of your legions, my Darkened Light, can be transported instantaneously across the battlefield with unprecedented precision! The applications are, oh, endless!

I eagerly await your insights, your divine approval, your unmatched genius to guide me further!Truly, truly, your brilliance eclipses even the light of a dying star!"

Among all that, and all the models, schematics and statistics thrown her way, there was to wonder if Ptolomes was even doing his job, awakening the section dedicated to the Cryptek and their more finnicky works. Amused as she was, Xorathis didn't need the spikes of energy to confirm that it wasn't so. Her faithful scientist would do nothing but his absolute best in her service.

She hummed at his eager chattering, thinking about an over-active little critter that was once endemic to her homeplanet. The resemblance was quite uncanny.

The Cryptek Laboratories were lightly less airy than the Foundries, its halls given to multi-dimensional fabricators, energy convectors, quantum reactors and Necrodermis sublimators that were sophisticated even by Necron standards. With their technology, everything could be automatized, but there was no replacing the keen optics of the Crypteks now pacing the chambers, busy awakening each piece of machinery with the same care and reverence that a lesser race would reserve to great dragons slumbering in the dark.

It was here, in laboratories glowing with green light and flooding with radiations, that the Crypteks pushed their understanding of physics and mechanics whose existence other races didn't even dream, where artifacts and weapons worthy of a Phaeron were forged. It was here that the supremacy of the Necrontyr had been forged, and it would be here that the future of the Necrons would be secured.

Hopefully, that is.

"That calibration requires adjustments, my dear Ptolomes."

The endless chattering cut off in a startled silence. Xorathis giggled as her Cryptek's presence swarmed the parameters, and then at the flurry of excuses that flooded right after.

Ah, it was nice to be awoken again.

Fleet




Fleet Level: Low-Medium (Necron Security Force)

Armies




Army Level: Discrete (Necron Strike Force)


EDIT: I changed a few things, reducing Lychguards numbers per unit and replacing an escort-class with a Light Cruiser.

Master Program Report
Designation: Chronos-Aegis Archive Core
To: High Mistress Xorathis, Ascendant Ruler of Eternity, Lady of the Undying Swarm, Black Flower of Xibalba, Song of Life, Bringer of Hope Renewed
Subject: Status of Organic-Mechanized Intruders (Designation: Skitarii Contingent 46B)

---

Illustrious High Mistress,

Per your directives, I submit a detailed report regarding the containment and analysis of the organic-mechanical intruders intercepted within the tomb of your domain. The subjects, referred to in Unh'Saekh designation as Skitarii Contingent 46B, are currently held in stasis per established protocols. Their presence was initially registered as a threat to tomb stability, but their capture offers valuable opportunities for analysis and potential repurposing.

---

Current Status

The unit in question comprises a total of 17 units, subdivided into 12 rank-and-file warriors, 3 specialized support units, 1 dedicated Mechanicus Enginseer, and 1 identified as the leader, referred to in their records as Skitarius Alpha. All units have been subjected to stasis integrity verification; containment remains at 99.87% efficacy with no detected breaches.

Organic/Metallic Composition

• Organic:
  The biological components of these intruders vary between units but appear intentionally limited. The Enginseer retains approximately 42% organic mass, primarily concentrated in cranial and torso regions. Rank-and-file units average 37% organic mass, distributed as vestigial remnants of their original biological forms, primarily for sensory and motor functions.
• Artificial:
  All units feature extensive augmentation, consistent with Mechanicus patterns. These augmentations range from limb replacement and enhanced sensory arrays to integrated weapon systems. The alloy composition is crude but efficient, indicative of inferior Uhn'Saekh resource use.

---

Health Status

The organic components of the Skitarii contingent were found to be in a severely compromised state upon capture. Prolonged exposure to their own radiation-based weaponry, combined with the crude integration of augmentations, resulted in widespread cellular degradation, organ failure, and systemic instability. The rank-and-file units exhibited signs of advanced radiation sickness, necrotic tissue, and deteriorated neural pathways, while the Enginseer and Skitarius Alpha showed somewhat better resilience due to more robust augmentations.

Per established protocols, the stasis field has mended these health issues to a significant degree, repairing cellular damage and restoring basic biological functionality. However, the inherent limitations of their organic design render their long-term viability as combatants questionable.

Recommendation:
Given the fragility of their organic components, I advise repurposing these subjects into Necron Warriors. The extraction and refinement of their biological essence into necrodermis forms would provide a more durable, obedient, and efficient asset to the dynasty. This process would eliminate the inherent weaknesses of their organic-mechanical hybrid state while preserving their combat potential in a form befitting your eternal reign. Further directives are awaited.

---

Psycho-Conditioning Analysis

The Skitarii exhibit extensive psycho-conditioning, particularly in the rank-and-file units, designed to enforce unwavering obedience to their Mechanicus overlords. This conditioning impairs independent thought, rendering them tools rather than true combatants.

Action Taken:
As per your instructions, the psycho-conditioning protocols in the Skitarius Alpha have been eliminated. This individual now exhibits a restored capacity for self-determination, though behavioral observations are ongoing. Residual aggression and confusion have been noted but are within expected parameters. This elimination process has not yet been extended to the remaining units, pending further directives.

---

Notable Augmentations Identified

Below is a brief summary of augmentations observed among the contingent:

1. Omni-spectral Ocular Systems
   • Augmented vision capable of multi-spectrum detection, including infrared and ultraviolet.
2. Enhanced Servo-Limbs
   • Replaced appendages with mechanized equivalents offering superior strength and precision.
3. Data-Synaptic Nodes
   • Neural implants facilitating direct interface with Mechanicus systems and networked combat coordination.
4. Respiratory Filtration Units
   • Atmospheric adaptation implants enabling survival in toxic or low-oxygen environments.

---

Conclusion and Recommendations

The contingent remains a minimal threat while in stasis. The removal of psycho-conditioning from the Skitarius Alpha offers potential for further study of their operational psychology and possible use as a weaponized agent against their Mechanicus creators. The remaining units could be dismantled, analyzed for resource recovery, or repurposed into auxiliary constructs under dynastic control.

Further instructions are awaited. May your reign over eternity remain unchallenged.

Eternally vigilant,
Chronos-Aegis Archive Core

---

Energy arc in shadowed corridors. Spidery shapes move in the shadows. A rising hum runs through the walls. The Tomb awakens.

Tombworld Status: Awakening (Process will end in 4 Turns)

Sections status
Stasis Crypts: Partially Awoken (Limited access to soldier-level units)
Noble Crypts: Sealed (No access to commander-level units)
Power Nexus: Activated (Black-matter and interstice energy production regular)
Command Sanctum: Activated (General control Tomb and Master Program working regularly)
Canoptek Foundry: Activated (Regular production of Canoptek units.)
Resurrection Chambers: Activated (Resurrection Protocols Regular.)
Muster Points: Activated (Teleporter network functional. Easy coordination inner troop movements)
Defensive Pylons: Partially Awoken (Inner defenses limited)
Blackstone Pylons: Activated (Protection from Warp assaults regular)
Gauss Vaults: Sealed (No access to reserves of regular arms)
Sensor Array: Damaged (No perception of outer space)
Tesseract Vaults: Sealed (No access to stored advanced weapons and machines)
Cryptek Laboratories: Activated (Regular production and repair of first layer of advanced war machines and tools of control.)
Outer Defensive Grid: Partially Awoken (Limited land-to-air, land-to-space defense)
Data Vaults: Sealed (No access to records)
Resource Harvesters: Activated (Resource collection regular)
Gateway Portals: Deactivated (No possibility of troop transfer)
Necrodermis Fount: Activated (Production of Necrometal regular)
Gauss Foundry: Activated (Production regular weapons normal)
Bio-forge: Deactivated (No production new warriors)

Turn Troop Production:
40 Annihilation Barges, 2 Monoliths, 2 Units of Canoptek Scarabs (10.000), 2 Units of Canoptek Spyders (100), 2 Units of Canoptek Acantrytes (100), 2 units of Plasmacyte (100), 1 unit of Doomstalkers (100), 1 unit of Reanimators (100).

Necrons depend on their commanders to set policies and give directives. You have:
Xorathis (Personal, Cryptek, Phaerakh): 3 Actions
Ptolomes (Cryptek): 1 Action
Rahotamen (Nemesor): 1 Action
Beta-Mu-047 (Skitarius Alpha, Organic): 2 Actions (Only Actions Tagged [Mechanicus])

Actions:

Martial
War is the Necrontyr's bread and water. Doubly so for the immortal Necrons. That there are only insects for you to use your might against means nothing.

[] Meat and Carrion: Flayed Ones are the living, rotting reminder that not even a successful rebellion is without consequences, not when waged against Gods. Still, they are powerful. Still, they can be enticed to serve. With the proper bait and the proper appliance of might.
Roll: 60. Reward: Variable Loss of Skitarii. Gain Variable number of Flayed Ones Troops. Chance of Flayed One Hero.

[] Trodding dead sands: Mournhold is for all intents and purposes a Dead World. At least, that'd be true for a lesser race. You know better. Send parties to ascertain the world's qualities and the traces left by its previous occupants. And if it's as dead as it looks.
Roll: 15. Reward: ???

[] Chart the stars: Sixty million years means that even the stars shifted their course. You may know the general gist of the sector but that's no substitute for real reconnaissance. Send a patrol to take stock of the space surrounding your planet.
Roll: 35. Reward: Knowledge of surrounding systems and warp-lanes, better preparation for enemy raids.

[] Ever onward: Rahotamen and Ptolomes brought you news of the Sector, Atlas as the Uhn'saekh decided to call it. A nest of malfunctioning scarabs to be sure. You must know more if you are to plot your course. Send explorers beyond your domain, plant moles and ears, discover what the mortals are up to. Write to what faction you send your infiltrators [] -
Roll: 45. Reward: You gain a steady trickle of general information regarding the selected faction. Meeting new characters. Possible knowledge of hidden Tomb Worlds.

[] Masks, to fool: You set your path toward heresy and ascension and certain revenge from the near-sighted. But it doesn't need to be so. Fund a new Dynasty, one that exists only to be your catpaw. Elect a Phaeron, set protocols, write glyphs. Making a persuasive facade will need to relinquish some measure of control but it may be worth it. Make a mouthpiece for your hidden voice.
Roll: 20. Reward: Gain a puppet Dynasty to interact with other Necrons and other powers without exposing yourself. Gain a Necron Demi-Hero (Limited Actions as per Lesser Control).

[] Weapons for Children: The primitives are adequate in the art of violence, but that doesn't mean that they can't be improved. Bless their weak bodies and augmentics with the touch of the Necrons, enough to show a difference, not enough for other inferiors to notice. [Mechanicus]
Roll: 30. Reward: Upgraded Skitarii and Skitarius Hero. Gain higher loyalty. Chance of higher loyalty by Hero Skitarius.

[] Open the Armories: New weapons are being produced for your Lords and Cryptek. Equip to the right standard.
Roll: 0. Reward: Necron Heroes armed with the most powerful weaponry at your disposal. No Action spent. Write in equipment, otherwise it'll be randomized. (one weapon, one side-weapon, one armor, one item per character)

Diplomacy
You are the sovereign of an isolated kingdom. This won't last forever, but for now your word is law and your strength unassailable.

[] Words of Wisdom: The Skitarius Alpha shows promise, but it is stunted by her close-mindedness and foolish disgust for anything different. Have her learn at your feet, have her listen to the words of the Ancients and partake in the gifts her superiors denied her. We already broke her chains of the mind. Next, we'll have her heart. [Mechanicus]
Roll: 60. Reward: Higher loyalty for Skitarius Hero. Skitarius Hero upgraded to Magos and DC lowered to 40 if taken together with Free the Mind, Free the Body. Will bring a choice.

Technomancy
The power to bend the fabric of the universe, to fragment stars and taunt the Gods. It begins and ends here, among Tesla generators and Gauss flash.

[] Of Fleets and Space: Xarothis' imprisonment was so paramount that Mournhold was never afforded a naval facility, as to avoid any chance for its prisoner to escape. Instead, portals and teletrasportation had to be the only methods of movement. This must be rectified if we want the Mistress to enjoy the power over the stars that she deserves.
Roll: 70. Reward: Set up a basic dockyard and naval installations.

[] Empyrean: The power of Xibalba awaits those with the skills and methods necessary. Delve into yourself and unlock the power within. (Only Xorathis)
Roll: 20. Reward: First unique upgrade. Activate list of possible upgrades.

[] The Tools of War: With the Laboratories reactivated, new weapons churn to fuel the furnace of conflict. But we barely scratched the surface of the black sea. Go beyond the shallow. Raise the waters.
Roll: 60. Reward: Start production Doomsday Arks, Doomsdays Monoliths and Tesseract Arks.

[] Stoke the Fires: Beyond the horizon, war, as it once did, as it always did, rises. To avoid being swept in its flames, we must coax ours to surge ever higher.
Roll: 70. Reward: Higher production rates from units produced in the Laboratories. Limited effect by low number of Crypteks.

[] The Scarab Wall: The projects that our facilities can churn out are insufficient. Expand the Foundries, bring more resources to be bent to the skittering and glowing optics. More power awaits.
Roll: 60. Reward: Start production of Wraiths, Tomb Stalkers and Tomb Sentinels.

[] The Scarab Wave: The production of Artificial Intelligences and insectile bodies is not nearly sufficient for the grand vision of our Mistress. Expand the facilities. Turn this river into a raging flood!
Roll: 70. Reward: Higher production rates from units produced in the Foundries.

[] A New War: The arrogance of your race brought them to fossilize their methods of war. While this is partly justifiable by Necron might and experience, there are always upgrades to make.
Roll: 40. Reward: Evaluate a unit type among those available and individuate eventual shortcomings and upgrades.

[] Matters of the Dark: The Power Nexus is the centerpiece of Necron technology, a fount of endless energy from dark matter and dimensional interstices. The specimen powering your Tombworld is powerful but it's also average. Align the Scarabs. Send green power searing through the air.
Roll: 70. Reward: More powerful Nexus. Slight increase in garrison and Tomb performance. Allow for more facilities.

[] White Ghosts: The psychic realm was lost to your race when they took their path into damnation under the vile C'tan. But that's not so for you. With no Star-Vampire to devour the spiritual run-off of your bio-trasference, you retained a greater part of your soul and with it, the possibility to interact with that most dangerous realm known as the Warp.
Roll: 50. Reward: Build one Wraithbone Constructor. Slight production of Wraithbone. Unlock psy-projects. (Only Xelothis)

[] The Great Engine: The first step to your glorious path. Awaken the Flower. Let the stars shine on you. Locked because of lack of White Ghosts and Matters of the Dark

[] Free the Mind, Free the Body: The Skitarius shows clear traces of neural tampering, all of them meant to keep her from learning and rising. A crude yet effective method of asserting obedience, but it lessens the values of our pawn. Show the beneficence of the Necrons by setting her free from her shackles. [Mechanicus]
Roll: 30. Reward: Higher loyalty from Skitarius Hero. Skitarius Hero upgraded to Magos and DC lowered to 10 if taken together with Words of Wisdom.

Governance
Allocations of ranks, resources and roles. This is all you need to concern yourself with. In a society as fragmented and rebellion-prone as the old Necrontyr was, it's almost refreshing.

[] Awaken the Tomb: The Master Program, so recalcitrant before, now obediently sets all the awakening protocols in motion. Still, left to its device, the old thing will take fifty Pulses before the Tombworld is full operational. Unacceptable! Get to work and force-jump the activation codes or have the damage repaired. Show how Necron mettle can't be replaced by a simple IA. Write in which section you work on [] - (Except Noble Tombs)
Roll: 40. Reward: One section of the Tomb reactivated.

[] Noble Sleep: The Noble Tombs contain Lords, Crypteks and champions of the Dynasty tasked with holding the Mistress prisoner. Now these fools will be made to serve. Still, awakening protocols are complex and lengthy, and having to rewrite the loyalty engrams makes it even more so.
Roll: 80. Reward: Gain one new Hero.

[] Tomb-Mind: The Master Programs are efficient but sluggish behemoths, even their computational might strained to its limits by having to manage the endless details making up a Tombworld. This results in a general slowness of reactions. Such inefficiency is what allowed fast-moving enemies like the Harlequins to provoke great damage to your race in the past, and even lesser races to walk unpunished through your halls. Most Overlords don't care for such technical frippery but you're not most Overlords. Remedy this.
Roll: 70. Reward: Faster defense reaction, lower DC of Governance actions.

[] Worship Death: The fundamental principle of any serious Warp study is that mortal emotions are reflected in the spiritual realm. Having little to no soul, Necrons can't influence it, but the organics can. They already started chanting and praying on their own. Organize them. [Mechanicus]
Roll: 30. Reward: Start of Necron religion. Unlock religious projects. Write in Type of religion and God and/or Gods worshipped. Add details of rites if you want.

[] The Grand Court: In ancient times, Cryptek were called together only on momentous occasions and always at the behest of a powerful Phaeron. The inception of your new Ascendancy must be marked with equal pomp. Have your architect engage in their craft. Build a court fit to awe any noble who looks upon it.
Roll: 40. Reward: Build the Grand Court and the Black Throne. Bonus to all diplomacy by the display of might and authority.

Intrigue
Steps in the shadows was not the Necrontyr way, its lords too attached to their "honor" to consider such means. But the old world is dead and the old ways with it. You only need to find someone worthy to spy on.

[] Search far, search fast: The Deathmarks make for excellent spies and infiltrators. Send one to make a mockery of the lesser races' defenses, steal their trinkets and learn their intents. Write in the faction you spy on [] -
Roll: 60. Reward: Focused and shorter pieces of information on a faction's planning. Meeting new characters. Chance of finding interesting items and resources. Possible discovery of a long-term danger.

[] Enemies, close by: Patrols, even well-cloaked, could result in discovery. Send a single small cruise with a complement of Deathmark. It won't be able to go far or range a large territory, but if there are Tombworld or hidden enemies in the surrounding systems, they will find them and not be found in the process.
Roll: 50. Reward: One tombworld explored safely and/or possible hidden enemies found.

Learning
The Necrons stopped being great when they stopped striving to be better. Perfection doesn't exist. There's always something to strive for. So strive.

[] The archive of Mournhold are impressive for its size. Maybe Szerakh more than the Mistress here? Let's discover the Silent King's secret. Locked because of sealed Archives.

[] The Cairn: Rahotamen's flagship is a magnificent example of Necrontyr tech at its pinnacle, many of which would be rare to be found even in a Crownworld. Delve in its data-banks and learn all its secrets.
Roll: 70. Reward: ???

[] Blackstone Marvels: Psy-tech was still in development when you were imprisoned and it seems to have stepped up since. The Blackstone Pillars are only one example of it and since you once were the leading mind of the branch, you feel it's both your duty and right to learn all there is about it.
Roll: 70. Reward: Greater comprehension of Null tech. (Only Xerothis)

[] A Matter of Control: To make some small amend for his mistakes, Szerakh destroyed the command protocols that lent him complete control over his subordinates. While you will grudgingly commend the gesture, it also means that the Necrons are condemned to fall once more in the furious infighting that featured the entirety of their history. Since awakened Lords cannot have their loyalty rewritten, it means that you'll be forced to fight your own race. Again. You have no intention to do so. The Gods, if they are worthy, will forgive you. If not, you'll forgive yourself.
Roll: 70. Reward: Greater comprehension of command protocols. (Only Xerothis)

[] The Forge's Curse: Your people's fate was sealed in the green flame of bio-trasference. While you were one of the leading minds who developed the process, essential parts of it still escape you, locked behind the C'tan's inscrutable minds. You dare not entertain the ideas that your people's souls could be healed, but you must try. Locked because of lack of Bio-Forge.

[] Write in- (must be approved by QM)

AC - Dang organics and their quick existences, always triggering choice chains. But don't worry, thanks to the latest discoveries in Fridge Technology, we can keep them nice and young as long as we need, apart from those five minutes we actually need them talking.