— Barbarus, Southern Swamp, Morit Village —
— The third year Hades arrived in the south —
The thick fog rolled and billowed, its icy tendrils seeping into every pore, the poisonous mist constantly attempting to suffocate any who dared traverse it.
Hades and Mortarion sat amidst this fog, the mood growing serious as Hades, who had been joking moments before, suddenly turned solemn.
“Hey, Reaper.”
“Hmm?”
“You're fighting for the people, right?”
Hades glanced cautiously at the emaciated young man resting beside Mortarion.
This youth was a microcosm of the countless rebels following Mortarion into battle.
They had forsaken everything, silencing their pain to become stronger, all to be Mortarion's unbreakable blade fighting for humanity's liberation.
But what if Mortarion wasn't fighting for humanity's liberation as he appeared to be?
Upon hearing Hades’ question, Mortarion's gaze sharpened instantly, his amber eyes flickering in the mist like a predator's in the jungle.
“I have always fought for them. Why do you ask, Hades?”
Hades sighed softly. “What if there was a chance to secure victory for the people, but it meant you had to give up everything?”
Why ask this? Mortarion clenched his fists silently. Of course, he would do it.
Why wouldn't he? It was humanity that had given him newfound meaning after having nothing.
“Of course, I would choose the people. They chose me to be their blade, and I will not fail them. Hades, you shouldn't ask such absurd and childish questions.”
It was humanity that gave Mortarion purpose; he would never abandon his comrades.
“And what if you had to give up everything, including your revenge on the Xenos Overlord, Necare?”
Before Hades could finish, Mortarion sprang up, his massive scythe aimed at Hades' throat.
The scythe's blade cut through the fog, cleaving it in two, the force dispersing the mist for hundreds of meters.
Damn, he’s fast!
Hades barely managed to lift his own scythe in defense when Mortarion’s unique, heavy scythe was already at his neck.
So, this is the power of a Primarch?
Mortarion, half-kneeling, carefully laid the young man's head on the ground with one hand while holding the scythe with the other.
His eyes bore into Hades, filled with coldness, suspicion, and—Hades was sure he saw a flash of madness.
Was Hades colluding with the Xenos?
“What did my adoptive father tell you?”
“No, he didn’t. I haven't met Necare.”
Hades tried to keep his tone light, but the cold metal pressing against his artery made it difficult.
Mortarion had clearly restrained his strength, ensuring the blade just grazed Hades’ artery.
Mortarion was silent.
“Then why ask?”
Why ask this? Was he controlled by the Xenos? Did he no longer trust Mortarion?
“I want to know what’s more important to you: humanity or your plan.”
“Are you helping humanity because of your hatred for Necare, or did you choose to fight the Xenos because of humanity?”
Is that all?
Was that why he asked?
But Mortarion had never considered this question.
What was Mortarion's answer?
Hades felt Mortarion's scrutinizing gaze repeatedly dissecting him, as if he wanted to cut Hades open and examine him entirely.
Mortarion could feel Hades' elevated blood pressure and racing heart.
Seemingly convinced of Hades' lack of malice and absence of sorcery control—
Clang!
Mortarion lowered his scythe, the heavy blade thudding into the ground, splattering mud, the dull sound echoing slowly in the thick fog.
“Such a situation doesn’t exist.”
Mortarion spoke softly.
“It doesn't exist. The people here are oppressed by the Xenos, and these Xenos Overlords will never relinquish their enslavement and abuse of humanity.”
“As long as the Xenos exist, humanity will never see true peace, and the liberation I promised will never come.”
And that bastard, that arrogant monster relying on sorcery, that scum who treats us like livestock!
“Necare must be killed! I will personally slay him and bring true liberation to humanity!”
Hades watched as Mortarion was entangled in anger and remorse.
Yes, if not for the man from beyond the stars, the question Hades just asked would never have arisen, and Mortarion would eventually gather his strength and kill his inner demon.
But, Hades knew that man, the Emperor, he would descend.
At that time, the question Hades asked would become significant; it was an inevitable reality.
Just like the original story wrote, He would descend.
He would sit in a lavishly crafted, golden, and technologically advanced human-made vessel.
He would descend on his throne, landing on the broadest and most fertile black soil of Barbarus.
He would walk slowly and dramatically onto this land, and the perpetual poison gas of Barbarus would automatically dissipate around him.
His face was handsome yet indistinct, his stature tall and robust, and his golden armor shimmered with the finest colors imaginable by humans.
Everything on Barbarus paled in comparison to him.
The first Death Guard outpost to discover him would kneel before him, trembling and weeping.
Mortarion, the people you trust, the proud partners you rely on, will willingly submit to him.
Even though you gave everything to these people, even though you promised them your future, even though you eagerly believed in them.
But that man, just by standing there, without even speaking a word.
They submitted. They handed over everything.
After all, he is the Emperor.
After all, they are humans.
He would continue walking, healing the first wounded person he encountered with the most elegant posture imaginable by humans, even if that person’s injury seemed completely untreatable.
He would heal them instantly, and the others would kneel before him, singing praises of the miracle.
They would joyfully lead him into the fortress you painstakingly built, they would invite him to the noblest seat in the meeting hall, and they would gather around him, listening to his tales of distant miracles and ancient dreams.
And you, Mortarion.
You just hurriedly escaped from a failed attack, listening anxiously to your sentinels reporting this miracle from beyond the stars.
You try to make yourself appear less like a defeated dog, gathering your courage to walk into your meeting hall, but at the first sight of him—
You knew you had lost everything.
You were abandoned by your people.
You are a defeated dog.
“I am... your friend, here on Barbarus to find a noble soul,” he added. “To find you.”
“From thousands of worlds away, you have been away from the Empire for too long. My lost kin, it’s time to return to our embrace. I promise you, glory and riches are just around the corner. The dawn of a new era is upon us.”
He wanted you to submit, to leave with him.
How could you possibly go?
Barbarus, the people of Barbarus, this is your everything.
But clearly, this guy has already taken these from you.
Apart from the hatred towards Necare, Mortarion had nothing at this moment.
He saw it too, betting your hatred and future against him.
But in the battle with Necare, you lost.
Lost completely, losing everything.
At that moment, the seeds of betrayal have been sown, waiting to sprout.
The “anchor” locking the past, present, and future has been set.
The One Above All smiled with satisfaction.
Hades looked at Mortarion in front of him, his eyes filled with anger towards his foster father Necare, but also mixed with hope and determination for the liberation of humanity.
How can I change this predetermined fate?
How delightful, today Hades is also striving to improve his speech skills to avoid becoming a Plague Marine.