Mithias blinked, his heretofore serious gaze suddenly broken by a quizzical expression at the mention of grounding. Sure, he knew the term, but was caught completely off guard by such an unexpected response. He had no recourse but to stare silenced as Gabriel spoke, like any random offspring caught by his father's tone. It struck him that no matter how long he had been alive, how many deaths and rebirths he had endured, nor what powers he had acquired and made his own, he would always and ever be subservient in this engagement. It didn't even matter that he had dispensed with his vampirism; Gabriel's claws ran deep into his soul, spanning all meaning of time and space. This bond, was eternal. 

Mithais hadn't quite expected his pride to be leveled so immediately, but he realized what his father was doing. Gabriel had unfortunately disagreed with the plan, but even as the ancient vampire prepared to deal with matters himself, he, in his own way, offered solace to his son. A few days 'grounding,' and this would all be over. It was a kindness that did not go overlooked despite the pompous dress of arrogance it wore, and it cut Mithias like a razor. 

There was no arguing, not with a being like Gabriel, particularly not with Gabriel. At this point, there was going to be a battle, and this world was going to burn. Honor had compelled the council's chosen world-guardian to inform those he cared for of the impending Necron attack, and now that duty had been satisfied. He watched as Gabriel strutted toward the airfield, pink couch and entourage still in tow and the biggest toothy grin on his face. "You're braver than I expected." He mused to himself reflecting on old memories as he stood there. Had Gabriel read his mind as he had been asked to? Did he really think that he alone could have this under control and come out alive? No... There was no possible way. The old man was planning to go down with the ship, with a bang no doubt, but down nonetheless. Of course there was no way Gabriel the vampire would willingly suffer a higher order of any kind, not even an impossibly perfect system. Mithias subconsciously tightened a fist in frustration with his dilemma and turned to face the pitiless sea. He sighed and shook his head. "I am the spawn of anarchy incarnate." 

----------

In the middle of the council room, Mithias suddenly appeared by teleportation. He glanced around at any others who were still present, or returned, and looked at the hooded council members. First, he located and addressed the Lord of Demons.

"Lord Oswald. I have met with the powers of my world, and our choice has been made." The immortal's face was darker than usual, and he hesitated to be sure he had full attention. "The world of vampires and humans declines your offer of aid against the Necron invasion. I am sorry." 

There were some murmurs in the background in response as Mithias then approached the one known as the Silent King. 

"Lord King of the Necrontyr." He found the council member with his green glowing eyes seated where he was hours before. Mithias lowered himself to one knee in what seemed to be a formal gesture of surrender before the ancient being. He had afterall just declined Oswald's offered aid, so what else would he be doing? Mithias spoke, "As the representative of my world, I must inform you..." He lifted his yellow eyes at him in a look of sincerity, "...that the beings of my homeworld fully intend to defend themselves from your attack. You will suffer great casualties if you insist on taking this world, and so I implore you to withdraw your forces. Leave my world out of your Empire. Do not attack, for it will lead to nothing but pointless death on both sides. My people, will not endure being indebted to or beholden to any other, no matter your intentions or the perfection of your empire. They will kill you. And so I beg you. Do not throw your lives away." It was the humblest gesture Mithias could make and his last resort to preserve his original family.