Upon witnessing the emergence of the Iron Men's machine fleet, Abaddon abandoned all thought of ambushing the Dark Angels. He led his fleet in a preemptive thrust, driving deeper into the lightless reaches of the Ghoul Stars.
As for the Arks of Omen, Abaddon could only command them to plunge into the Warp, leaving them to contend with the burgeoning numbers of Necrons on their own.
Under the cold, watchful eyes of the Black Legion overseers, the Chaos warbands aboard the vessels attempted to tear open warp-rifts. Yet, the energies of the Immaterium remained unresponsive. A profound sense of lethargy and weakness washed over every soul present.
The Necrons of Drazak, tainted by the Flayer Virus, were far from sane; however, they remained masters of the Necrontyr's eldritch science. Over a dozen Necron vessels, adorned with grotesque, oversized bone trophies, manifested upon the battlefield. Accompanying them was a colossal monolith. This silent pylon projected a massive null-field, smothering the power of the Warp within the region.
Intent on harvesting the bounty of flesh, the Drazak Necrons used their weaponry with uncharacteristic restraint, seeking to transform every Ark of Omen into a charnel house of gore.
By the time the Crowned General, Zahndrek, arrived with the Sautekh Dynasty fleet, swarms of Necrons were already engaged in a wholesale slaughter across the hulls of the Arks. Zahndrek had no intention of intervening on behalf of these fallen wretches. Instead, he stood by, watching his deranged kin complete their grisly objective before issuing his heraldic ultimatum.
He demanded that all fallen Necrons of the Drazak Dynasty return immediately to their borders, warning them under pain of death not to enter the galaxy without orders. Stimulated by the scent and spray of blood, the Drazak Necrons ignored Zahndrek's warning, drifting further toward the galactic rim.
Zahndrek, however, showed no mercy to his degenerate brothers. The Sautekh fleet opened fire instantly, targeting every Ark of Omen and the dozen Drazak vessels. They did not even spare the great null-field monolith. This overwhelming display of firepower managed to shock a flicker of lucidity back into the minds of the frenzied Flayers.
Zandrek held no affection for these fallen kin; in truth, he was inclined to purge the cursed wretches entirely. Yet, at the urging of his Vargard and retinue, he ultimately allowed them to retreat. Destroying the Drazak Dynasty was a task many Dynasties could achieve, but that mad world had been permitted to endure for so long simply because the Necrons still required someone to perform their "dirty work." Moreover, the Overlord of the Drazak Dynasty remained ostensibly sane and capable of reason.
The Arks of Omen, battered into jagged husks by the Necron batteries, were held together by the will of their daemonic machine-spirits. Taking advantage of the moment the Sautekh fleet shattered the null-field monolith, they tore through the veil of reality and fled into the Warp.
The moment they transitioned into the Empyrean, the lingering green balefire of the Necron gauss weaponry flickered out. In that realm of shifting physical laws, the residual energies left by the xenos weapons were neutralized by the saturating power of Chaos.
Only then did the Chaos warbands and Black Legionaries hidden in the depths of the hulls find the opportunity to assess the damage. Each Ark of Omen had lost nearly 30% of its structural attachments. Though the extent of the damage varied, the nature of it was consistent. The shields of an Ark of Omen were unique, derived from the various shipwrecks grafted onto its mass. Aside from the void shields of Imperial wrecks, they utilized the esoteric shield projectors of countless xenos and lost civilizations. Driven by daemonic machine-spirits, Warp-sorcery, and parasitic living cables, these devices functioned perfectly despite their principles being utterly incomprehensible to their users.
Casualties among the cultists and renegade mortal armies exceeded 70%. The Daemons, of course, were not counted among the losses; so long as their warp-essence remained intact, "death" was merely a delay before manifestation. The only significant material losses were a batch of Daemon Engines, a handful of Chaos Astartes, and sections of ancient hull plating.
Abaddon, however, had no time for such trifles. He had encountered troubles of his own.
Following the guidance provided by the Dark Adeptus, he had to push further into the heart of the Ghoul Stars to find his prize: an ancient vessel lost in the dark of ages. Yet, as they navigated toward the inner systems, a massive cluster of bio-ships intermingled with strange crystalline blocks appeared in his path.
Abaddon was no stranger to the Tyranids, but these bio-ships were unlike any in his memory. They appeared infected by some distorting power, their chitinous bodies riddled with strange crystalline growths that emitted peculiar rhythmic pulses. These bio-ships and crystals were scattered through the void like celestial refuse.
As Abaddon's fleet drew near, the crystals drifting in the vacuum received some unseen signal and began to fade from view, as if the entire encounter had been an illusion. The bio-ships followed suit, vanishing into the dark.
This anomalous display filled Abaddon with a sense of mounting unease.
THOOM.
A heavy impact shuddered against the outer hull of the Vengeful Spirit, the vibration rattling the ship's interior. Abaddon turned a malevolent gaze toward the daemonic crewman responsible for forward monitoring.
"Report. What was that?"
The daemon's voice was thick with terror. "My Lord... we appear to have collided with... something."
BEEP—!
"Intrusion detected on Deck B03-058... zzst... Outboard Deck D11-931... Lower Deck T92-133."
Piercing alarms wailed through the ship, the warnings of the daemonic machine-spirit mingling with incoherent screeches.
"By your will, I shall dispatch a team to investigate immediately."
Sensing Abaddon's death-glare drifting toward him, a Black Legion Terminator veteran standing beside the command throne spoke up. With heavy, rhythmic thuds, he turned and stomped off the bridge.
"A minor diversion," Abaddon whispered to himself. "I shall see what manner of fool brings me such 'surprises'."
As the Terminator departed, Abaddon returned his focus to the coordinates on the navigation system, muttering under his breath.
He did not know that those strange crystals were no natural formations. They were Pinion-class Stealth Frigates belonging to the Cythor Fiends. These frigates hailed from the 9836-18 Grave Core, the gas giant homeworld of the Cythor Fiends within the Ghoul Stars. They were constructed from synthetic crystals and, due to their resemblance to the tusks of some xenos predator, were designated the Pinion-class. These artificial crystals utilized the unique optical phenomena of gas giants to develop unparalleled stealth technology.
As for the Tyranid bio-ships, they had been dead for eons, their hollowed husks now merely puppets operated by the Cythor Fiends.