The Endurance, hidden conference room.
Now.
<+>
It's not a very large space.
The meeting room is plain and unadorned, with an outdated, rarely seen mechanical clock hanging on the white wall, ticking monotonously. A banner hangs from another wall, but it's not decorative—just a single, solid color, and its edges are slightly yellowed.
In the center of the room is a long table. Six captains are seated along its length, while at the head of the table opposite the door sits the First Commander of the Death Guard, the Captain of the First Company—
Barasine.
Each person has a small lamp in front of them, the room's only light source, casting a faint yellow glow that barely illuminates the already dim room.
“Please, have a seat.”
Barasine spoke, his Barbarusian accent making his High Gothic sound strangely stilted, with light syllables overemphasized, creating a disjointed rhythm to the short phrase.
He gestured for Hades to sit on the opposite side of the table, directly facing him.
“Thank you,” Hades replied in fluent High Gothic.
He sat down.
A brief silence followed, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall.
“You don’t seem surprised,” Barasine observed, his tone calm as he looked at Hades.
“With such a unique training method, I had an inkling,” Hades replied smoothly.
“We were abrupt; we should have arranged this better.”
Hades blinked, surprised by the other’s courteousness.
“No, no, I enjoy training with those from Terra. I’ve learned many new tactics.”
Barasine remained expressionless, giving no hint of his thoughts as he listened to Hades' response.
“Let’s be candid with each other,” Barasine said, his gaze steady. “Hades, you're called the Revenant in Barbarus, aren’t you?”
Hades nodded.
It seemed that Barasine had thoroughly researched his background on Barbarus. This wasn’t just a gesture of goodwill; it was also an implied show of strength.
Barasine was the hunter hidden in the shadows, while Hades was already exposed to the light.
But Barasine bore no ill will—this show of strength was merely to give them leverage.
The hunter began to speak.
“As the interim commander of the former Dusk Raiders and now First Commander of the Death Guard, Captain of the First Company, I hope we can reach some kind of agreement.”
“Go on,” Hades replied.
“Allow me to first explain our reasoning,” Barasine continued. “You may already know that after each Primarch’s return, the Legion’s recruitment planets are generally shifted to the Primarch’s homeworld, rather than continuing on Terra.”
“This also means that we Terrans are destined to become a part of the past.”
Hades remained silent, waiting for Barasine to go on.
“But the Legion’s transition doesn’t happen overnight; it’s a long process, potentially lasting centuries.”
“During this time, each battle, every shift, means fewer and fewer Terrans.”
“Our status will gradually become more marginal.”
Hades spoke up, his voice slightly hoarse.
“So, you want me to…?” Hades paused, choosing his words carefully. “...look out for these Terrans?”
The previously motionless attendees each reacted subtly—one blinked, another averted their gaze, while Garro remained entirely still.
But Barasine broke into a slight smile, the expression creeping to the corners of his mouth.
“It seems you’re not one to be overly modest; that makes our conversation much easier.”
“Yes, yes, that’s exactly it. But it’s not just that.” The rare smile faded, and Barasine became serious once more.
“In fact, we need your help right now.”
The other people at the table all turned their eyes towards Hades.
“In our interactions with the Primarch… we’ve come to realize that he may not appreciate us as much as we’d hoped.”
He didn’t use “Legion Commander,” or “Lord Mortarion,” nor even “Father.”
What he said was “the Primarch.”
A small but significant act of defiance.
This time it was Hades’ turn. He decided to probe Barasine’s intentions further.
Raising an eyebrow, Hades asked, “So… you’re hoping I’ll speak with Mortarion?”
Barasine fell silent.
Then he spoke again.
“...One could say, yes.”
“We hope that you can improve the Primarch’s attitude toward us.”
A single thought from the Primarch could mean the difference between life and death on the next battlefield.
"I know this doesn’t align well with Legion protocol."
"But we’ve learned that someone has already attempted to do it."
"And you and he… share a bond forged in blood."
Hades fell silent.
Though untimely, Hades couldn’t shake the feeling that he was some kind of ornament—a trinket dangled into position under Mortarion’s name.
In a sense, he had fulfilled the vow he made long ago on Barbarus.
Hmm. No, no, this wasn’t the time for such thoughts.
If he were to persuade Mortarion to change his views on Terrans, Hades doubted he could prevail against the Primarch’s stubbornness. But if it was simply to ensure Mortarion wouldn’t deliberately purge the Terrans… that, Hades thought, might be worth a try.
Hades responded,
"This type of thing doesn’t show immediate changes. How can you be sure I’ll try to persuade Mortarion at all?"
Barasine looked at Hades, his expression steady.
"We trust that you will."
From their observations, whether Hades was being genuine or merely pretending, his attitude had already been made clear.
If Hades were sincere, he’d have no reason to lie or hide and would assist the Terrans naturally.
If he were merely pretending—
Well, that would make things even simpler.
It would mean Hades had understood the captains’ intentions and chosen to accept them.
In other words, he was waiting for Barasine’s offer.
"If you’re willing to help us, we can gradually cede some control of the Terran forces to you."
Why did Barasine initially choose Calas Typhon? Firstly, because of his close relationship with Mortarion, meeting a primary prerequisite.
The second prerequisite was—
He was greedy.
Barasine understood; no one is free from greed.
Driven by greed, he would never forgo something he could claim, nor easily relinquish what he already possessed.
With just a share of command over the Terran forces, they could entice him. He would willingly seek to expand his influence within the Terran ranks. He’d protect the Terran soldiers in front of the Primarch.
At the very least, this would ensure that Terrans wouldn’t be intentionally thrown into high-casualty, intense battles by the Primarch.
But… that was Calas Typhon.
Barasine looked at Hades across the table.
From previous personality assessments and profiles, Hades did not seem to fit this mold.
In their profiles, Hades was depicted as meticulous beneath a rough exterior.
He also seemed keenly interested in the internal affairs of the Terrans.
However, he didn’t seem particularly power-hungry.
Barasine sighed internally.
He hoped Hades also craved power. Otherwise…
Well, he was skilled at appealing to self-interest, but if that failed… he’d be forced to rely on vague notions of "loyalty and duty" to bind him.
Not exactly his forte.