Chapter 190: Mortarion Feels Fear
Conference Room, The Endurance
Hades hesitated, then reluctantly put down the fruit he'd snagged from the Luna Wolves.
Looking at Mortarion—who was clearly not in a normal state—Hades hadn't expected this outcome.
In his original plan, the most likely scenario was Mortarion getting charmed by Horus's friendliness, after which Hades would gently warn him not to trust the Luna Wolves too much, trying to bring that favorable impression down a notch or two.
After all, Horus was the Primarch with maxed-out social stats, and Hades didn't believe Mortarion could detect the rhetorical finesse in Horus's words.
But now… what was going on?
Did the conversation crash?
Did Horus actually manage to mess up a talk?
Hades wasn't sure whether to be impressed that Mortarion had "leveled up" to the point where he could stonewall Horus, or to feel relieved that he didn't get completely charmed by him.
But judging by how out-of-character Mortarion's behavior was, Hades suspected this wasn't just a simple failed conversation.
Still… he really couldn't imagine anything other than "Horus called Mortarion a hillbilly" as the cause.
Surely Horus hadn't already turned traitor and scared Mortarion half to death?
(Side note: other than Horus himself, Hades had secretly used the Black Domain to scan all the Luna Wolves he could reach—and the result was: healthy. No Astartes is showing signs of corruption.)
Hades didn't dare probe a Primarch's soul recklessly. Even if he diluted the Black Domain to the extreme, Primarchs were too perceptive—they'd immediately sense someone "probing" them.
Seeing that Mortarion was all closed off now, Hades considered for a moment, then decided to start with a neutral, harmless question—
But Mortarion spoke first.
"Hades. Activate the Black Domain. Send our Untouchables to man the outermost perimeter of the Endurance, especially near any Luna Wolf presence."
"But don't let the Wolves see them."
Before Mortarion even finished speaking, Hades stiffened—instantly realizing what this meant.
He immediately deployed a diluted Black Domain to cover the entire conference room.
As Mortarion felt the oppressive presence of the Black Domain settle in, he finally spoke again.
"Hades, I have a theory."
"The Death Guard… may fall."
Hades nodded, silently waiting for the next part, even though he had already guessed what Mortarion was about to say.
"The Luna Wolves…. might fall too."
That final line swept through the Death Guard's conference room like a ghost, leaving a brief silence between the two men.
Mortarion turned his head to look at Hades.
Hades slowly nodded again—affirming the possibility.
Or more accurately… affirming that future.
Seeing that nod, Mortarion visibly withered.
The Primarch of the Death Guard had always resembled a diseased leper, but now, he looked even more like the walking dead.
Hades remained silent.
He waited for Mortarion to confront the truth.
After a long pause, Mortarion let out a deep, ragged sigh.
The toxic fog surrounding him wavered and destabilized with the motion.
"I should've seen it coming."
Mortarion's voice nearly dissolved into the fumes.
"I… should have seen it coming."
He stared at the bone-white walls of the Endurance, eyes hollow.
To him, they already looked like the last headstones of a future grave.
"We stepped from one cruel, frozen world into another—vaster, colder still. The promised hope was nothing but a fleeting lie, and the brotherhood we longed for was merely a mist shrouding a harsher truth."
"I was never given a choice."
"Not on the highest peaks of Barbarus, nor in the sterile chambers of the Imperator Somnium."
"And now I am forced to realize that even the last thing I believed in, the so-called blood bond, will be corroded by the evils of the Warp."
Mortarion's voice rose like a sigh—soft, like the tide receding—and dissolved into the haze, leaving only a drifting, poisonous fog behind.
"Hades."
"Hm?"
Hades responded cautiously. Mortarion was clearly shaken, teetering between despair and resignation at the cruelty of the truths he'd uncovered.
Mortarion absentmindedly tapped his scythe's shaft with his fingers.
"You know… that man who once claimed to be my father, he promised me brothers. He promised me kindred spirits."
"All of it was a lie."
"He tried to lure me aboard a sinking ship with hollow ideals. It was the palest, most laughable deception—but I believed it. I chose to believe it. For something so absurd."
"And now I must watch my 'brothers' fall into a chasm called despair… while I hang alone on the cliff's edge, swaying, barely holding on."
He paused.
Only Mortarion had stood at the edge of time and glimpsed the truth of Chaos.
The terror of the Warp had etched itself into his very soul. He trembled beneath that weight.
Had it been only about himself—had it only been him—perhaps he wouldn't have been so afraid. But the fear was that even now, after finding a brother who offered him warmth, it might all be just another beautiful illusion, another liar's promise—empty and impossible.
Hades stayed silent.
He realized that to offer comfort now would be to tell another lie.
No one could speak of a future filled with peace and hope without sounding false.
And if Hades did say it, then he'd be no different than the Emperor who once made promises to Mortarion.
So Hades spoke slowly:
"That's why we make a vow to death. Because we know—this world was cruel from the start."
Mortarion let out a long breath.
He'd allowed himself to feel, to be stirred by the dazzling light of Horus's warmth, and in doing so, he'd become vulnerable. He'd let himself hope—worse, he'd dared to care.
Horus always promised light and warmth.
And in that moment, Mortarion had briefly blurred the grim truths he'd carried for so long:
Death.
He was a pessimist. He never held illusions about hope.
The Death Guard had been born from a promise to death itself.
Maybe Mortarion should've remembered that sooner—and abandoned his fantasies of Horus, of brotherhood.
A pessimist would never speak of salvation.
And Mortarion—who had once looked Chaos straight in the eye—knew he could never save anything.
But he could still say:
"If their fate is to fall… then let me be the one to bring them death."
A clean and merciful death—
That would be the first gift Mortarion would offer to his kind and radiant brother.
He cast a glance toward Hades. Ever since Mortarion had begun to speak, Hades had remained solemn and silent.
"Did you already know?" Mortarion asked.
Hades gave him a firm nod of affirmation.
Mortarion sighed again, slower this time, deeper.
"Words carry a wicked power. I understand your caution in withholding them."
"I might be curious how you came to know all this—but it doesn't matter. The Emperor, Malcador, prophecy… I don't care."
"But I trust you."
Mortarion fell into thoughtful silence.
They had both experienced that vision—
And Hades, repeatedly warned by Malcador, had chosen silence over disclosure.
Then Mortarion spoke again, voice low but steady:
"Who must I guard against?"
Hades's answer came without hesitation.
"Everyone. The Legions. The Auxilia. The Imperial Navy. The Mechanicum."
"All at once?"
"Yes. All at once."
Mortarion and Hades exchanged a long, heavy look.
"This is worse than I imagined," Mortarion said, breath nearly gone. "Does my biological father know of this—or worse, is he complicit?"
Hades nodded.
Mortarion now looked more like a corpse than a primarch. His voice was so faint it barely carried through the fog.
"Perhaps I should've died on that mountain back on Barbarus, rather than stand here—forced to understand and endure torments that claw at soul and spirit alike."
"But we're alive. For now. Maybe that's what fate wants."
Seeing that Mortarion had regained his composure after spilling his thoughts, Hades decided not to press further.
This wasn't the first time Mortarion had faced such a crisis—he would find his footing again.
With a shrug, Hades picked up one of the fruits he'd snagged from the Luna Wolves and took a bite.
Then, casually, he held one out to Mortarion.
"Want one?"
Mortarion stared at him, dumbfounded.
He pointed at the fruit—so full, so tempting, the kind of thing the Luna Wolves would surely reserve for their guests.
"You can still eat… that?" Mortarion asked in disbelief.
Hades blinked, unfazed.
"For now, they're still good."
That moment hit Mortarion like a second revelation. A terrifying one.
Hades knew.
He knew everything.
And yet he could still sit here, perfectly calm. Still take a bite of a fruit without hesitation.
Still carry on as if the future weren't a chasm lined with blades.
For the first time, Mortarion felt fear.
Not of death.
Not of Chaos.
But of the terrifying, composed presence that was Hades.
<+>
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