Antara returned to her chambers, a pair of new hyperphase swords in her hands. They had been Overlord Varek Záakesh’s old blades, from when he too had been a Lychguard. She had motioned to refuse them but she knew that it would be rude to turn away an Overlord’s gift.
Since his promotion to Overlord they had been given a few adjustments and tweeks, making them stronger, lighter and more powerful. He had also installed a pair of small energy cores found in a staff of light, granting them the ability to fire a powerful but short ranged attack.
Entering her quarters which she shared with the other Lychguard she found it empty. Unlike mortal creatures, Necrons could function for weeks before needing rest, to recharge the cores running their nigh indestructible bodies.
In contrast to Overlord Záakesh’s quarters hers were simple, with a hard floor to stand on and the necessary machinery for charging a Necron’s core littering the room, it was the bare basics and as Lychguard spent their waking hours by their Overlord’s side, they needed no material comforts.
Deciding to practice with the blades, she gracefully darted and danced around the spacious room, swinging them left and right, parrying against imaginary foes and thrusting them deep into the bodies that would soon taste her new blades in battle.
Loosing herself in her old practice routine she started to remember the days when she would run circles around all but the most nimble Eldar, a race well known for their speed and agility. Cutting left and following with a lunge she turned and twisted as the swords danced around her, their green energy cores leaving behind a trail of light that she wrapped herself in.
As she approached the last segment of her routine she wound her legs beneath her, tightened her servos and launched herself in the air, spinning the blades a full circle around her as she came crashing to the ground, her feet not fast enough to keep up with the acrobatic move.
Lying on the floor, she looked up at the ceiling and longed for her old body back. It might not have been indestructible, nor have a long life span, but it was hers, she could train it to do anything. This cage she was locked up in may have had its uses but none of them came above the feeling of the wind through her hair, the thrill of blood pumping round her body, even the fear of death would make her feel more alive.
Eventually getting herself up she picked up the swords that had scattered across the room and placed them next to her distortion shield and warscythe. Lying on the machine that would charge her core, she tried to put her mind back into her old body so she might dream – but as she slipped off into an empty sleep she heard the arrival of another craft docking with the Am’otep.