For sixty million years they have slumbered, awaiting the call from the star-gods. For an eternity they have lain dormant in stasis chambers deep beneath blasted Tomb worlds, far from the prying eyes of the lesser races. Unseen, but not unknown, they lie at the heart of the Imperium, anticipating the time to strike. Bitter souls encased in fleshless bodies, the Necrons have returned after their eons-long dormancy, and the bloody Harvest has begun again, their fleets hunting down mortal races for their masters to consume.

From huge Tomb ships and floating Monoliths, glittering phalanxes of Necron warriors stalk forth, their false bodies impervious to the weapons of their enemies. At the vanguard of their forces are the Necron Lords, their tattered shrouds flowing in an unearthly breeze as they wordlessly compel their skeletal warriors forward. Alongside them march the eldritch monstrosities and arcane war machines of their race, some miraculously fast and utterly lethal, some as ponderous and inescapable as death itself.

They strike without warning, slaughtering their prey and disappearing without trace, even their fallen mysteriously vanishing from the field of battle. To the Necrons, their foes are but cattle for their ever-hungry gods, and with each passing year the Tomb Fleets grow greater in size. Soon their eternal goal to eradicate all life will become a reality, and the galaxy will be turned into a barren wasteland.