Chapter 297: Level Up!
Charon lifted his eyes. He was watching the Lord of the Underworld approach him from within the darkness.
—No, it was not that Hades stood in darkness. Rather, darkness followed wherever he went.
Like a mist rising.
The surging gloom lapped against their senses as gently as waves upon a shore. Fear and suffocation twined like creeping vines, curling around throats to choke. Within the restless darkness floated emerald eyes, and from the hollow void dripped glowing green tears.
As the eyes moved, a faint clinking of metal rang out—like the bells on a gravedigger's belt—yet instead of breaking the silence, it only deepened it.
From within the dark, scarlet light pierced everything, fixing its gaze upon him.
Charon stood motionless. He could not make out the Lord of the Underworld's face, submerged as he was in shadow. It reminded him of his Lord: dazzling golden radiance that blurred vision, forbidding mortals from discerning their features.
Yet through the sound of Hades's footsteps, through the weight of his form, Charon knew the operation had been a success—despite the countless delays those frantic scientists had added to the surgery.
From what Charon knew, Hades's modifications had centered primarily on the replacement and augmentation of his organs.
First was the Primal Heart—his original heart removed, replaced with three hearts refined through resonance experiments. Their combined rhythm accelerated blood flow, while the one nearest any wound could automatically restrict circulation until the injury healed.
Then the Blessed Circulator—a tiny organ grafted onto the heart. It secreted a viscous hormone, carried through the blood, settling into vessel walls where it was absorbed.
These hormones thickened vessels, strengthened their walls. Special secretory cells embedded within the vessels produced detoxifying agents—or hormones to enforce frenzy or calm.
In emergencies, the vessel walls themselves could dissolve to create a flood of oxygen-rich blood cells.
Over time, Hades's entire circulatory system would be vastly improved.
(Though, when the scientists witnessed the detoxification already present in Hades's body, they deeply questioned whether this organ was even necessary. But in the end, they installed it anyway.)
The Steel-Eater—an organ that draws metallic elements from food, weaving them into hybrid organic-metallic muscle fibers, massively enhancing strength and endurance.
The Scent Glands—during examinations it had been found that Hades's sense of taste was impaired; he could not detect toxins or other nuances through flavor. As compensation, the scientists gave him an organ that drastically heightened his sense of smell. The glands secreted hormones to stimulate the growth of sensory cells.
(Rumor had it that the genetic sequence for this organ was based on that of the Space Wolves.)
Now, as long as he could smell it, the winds themselves would whisper their secrets to him.
—And Hades's cells themselves had been deeply altered. The majority of what now composed his body could no longer be compared to those of an ordinary human. These precision modifications, down to the cellular level, had consumed staggering amounts of labor and resources.
But if their goal was to allow the Black Domain to expand further—without tearing Hades apart in backlash—then all of this was worthwhile.
Charon waited. What came next was his duty, together with Sister Nera, to introduce to Hades the forces that Malcador, as Head of the Silent Sisterhood, had prepared for him.
They were one unit of battle automatas, three squads of untouchable infantry clad in Nirvana Armor, most of them men, their leaders drawn from the Silent Sisterhood, one unit of Knights, with its attendant squires, all operated by untouchables.
And… the command authority to summon a Psi-Titan.
The Psi-Titan is powered by three bound psykers, restricted in their movements, while commanded by a powerful male untouchable. Its very presence could manifest a vast psychic phenomenon, unleashing a mind-crushing terror upon its foes.
The Sinistramanus Tenebrae mounted on the Psi-Titan could harness the psykers' powers to tear open a warp rift in realspace. Like a vortex weapon, enemies would be dragged screaming into the chaotic currents of the warp.
The existence of these Titans remained an Imperial secret—known only to the highest levels of decision-making. No one else had ever heard of them.
—This time, Malcador had poured a significant amount of resources for Hades.
So thought Charon in silence.
The darkness sank like twilight's shroud. The Lord of the Underworld advanced, his features veiled by black gauze, his profound gaze turned toward the armory behind Charon.
A moment later, the darkness ceased abruptly.
Charon stared at Hades, who now wore a delighted smile, muttering something like, "Old Man, looks like you didn't cheat me after all."
As a dutiful Custodian, Charon knew what he should do next: advise Hades to keep his dark halo active at all times, and to reduce unnecessary words.
. . . .
[Hades.]
Mortarion whispered the name within his heart.
No response. Mortarion repeated it several times inwardly.
Still nothing.
A surge of confusion—and of being made a fool—rose within him. What was happening?
The Lord of Death sat idly, his face propped against one arm. Before him stood Korklan, and Ugo, who had been summoned urgently.
Mortarion considered for a moment, then hesitantly whispered inwardly again:
[For… Hades? For Hades.]
Still no response.
Mortarion's patience began to erode. He finally spoke aloud:
[Ugo, I cannot sense even a trace of what you described.]
Ugo, suddenly named, swallowed nervously before replying:
"My lord… perhaps it is that your emotion is not correct. The Sea of Souls responds to emotion… you must feel."
"In general, the more solemn, the more overwhelming—the kind of feeling that lingers long after an event—the more likely it will stir an echo in the warp."
This was a cruel demand for Mortarion. When he thought of Hades, what came to mind was wondering when he would return, or anxiety over his possible death on some battlefield… or perhaps hatred toward Malcador.
But none of these were the sort of emotions Ugo meant. And though Ugo dared not say it plainly before a Primarch, Mortarion understood the unsaid words.
Respect. Awe. Fear.
Or, more broadly—faith.
But how could Mortarion ever feel such things toward someone who frequently stole his dinner? The servitors would pass by Hades's office first, and what Mortarion received afterward was nothing but empty trays.
Korklan stood with a self-satisfied air, watching the Primarch's silence and futile attempts. He knew this was destined to fail.
Only mortals could have gods. Even demigods could not.
For gods were too proud. The laurel upon their brows forbade them from ever bowing their heads in prayer.
Mortarion lifted his eyes, expression faint, and rasped:
[You've already concealed the truth once. I'll give you one last chance. How did you summon Hades's Black Domain, and… after learning of this, why did Hades forbid you from doing it again?]
Korklan bowed deeply.
[At your will, without deceit.]
And then he spoke—beginning to praise the Lord of the Underworld, praising the divinity that surged beneath His human skin. As he spoke, he emphasized reverence, devotion, the fear born of mystery and distance—that was the essence of prayer.
Mortarion's expression turned impatient.
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Note: I don't know what's the global name for Nirvana Armor, here's the raw name for it [ 涅槃之甲 ], does anyone know what it is? I will change the name when someone answers it, for now, I will call it Nirvana Armor.
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