Chapter 299: Change Across The Endurance
Mortarion, in the end, did not go so far as to randomly pick out two Death Guard recruits and make them pray—a foolish act that, the mont you even brushed against the thought, you would realize how idiotic it was.
He even began to worry whether his earlier attempt might actually have allowed Hades to notice sothing.
If Hades really found out what he’s doing, he would definitely mock him… Mortarion cut his own thoughts short in ti.
The Lord of Death began sorting through the information he had obtained from Ugo and Korklan.
Korklan kept insisting that Hades was the god who would save humanity from the Warp, that faithful prayer would allow believers to receive Hades’ protection, shielding them from corruption.
Ugo, on the other hand, described in detail what their commander had asked them to observe: in the ocean of the Warp, human soul-flas would drift toward the Black Domain, guided by their thoughts (Ugo’s face had darkened when he spoke of the Black Domain, as though making a grave decision), and those flickering flas would then be swallowed by it.
Mortarion pondered.
This sounded like people were deliberately drawing closer to the Black Domain within the Warp.
If that truly could neutralize the Warp’s influence on humanity, then it wasn’t the worst thod.
It only required guiding people in their thoughts… though that was troubleso.
‘But…’ Mortarion hesitated. Why did Hades discourage Korklan and the others?
If the benefits of sothing outweighed the costs, Hades would definitely choose to pursue it.
Could it be that Hades couldn’t tolerate others’ piety? No—that didn’t fit. Mortarion had never seen anyone better at ignoring the gaze of others than Hades.
So… it must be sothing else.
Sothing Mortarion didn’t yet know about—the drawbacks of prayer.
Beneath his hood, the Lord of Death furrowed his brow deeply.
What could it be?
Whatever it was, the losses couldn’t be too costly, otherwise Hades wouldn’t have spared Korklan’s life.
Hades had never told anyone but Malcador that his Black Domain was in fact constantly suppressed by the Emperor’s psychic power. Mortarion, not being a Primarch who saw through a psychic lens, had no way of precisely sensing the changes within the Black Domain.
In the end, Mortarion could only conclude this much: prayer or religion caused sothing Hades did not wish to see, though for now he could still endure the cost. As for what that cost truly was…
Did it weaken Hades himself? Or did it affect the Warp and psyker-related phenona?
Mortarion had no answer.
But the Lord of Death had already decided what he must do.
First, Mortarion sternly warned Korklan.
Though the mad savant’s faith had given him extraordinary courage, under Mortarion’s deliberate intimidation, he still trembled as he swore an oath of silence—
—in Hades’ na.
After that, Mortarion t privately with Margo, a forr mber of the Hadeshound unit. She was a quiet yet steadfast mortal, far better than Korklan at understanding a Primarch’s intent.
Margo’s answer was much the sa as Korklan’s. The only difference was that this first mortal who had cried out “For Hades” believed that the Lord of the Underworld had his own burdens, and that as a follower, she should remain silent in accordance with his will.
After so thought, Mortarion decided to send Margo to Rust to reclaim the ship Hades had commissioned from him—rather than letting Korklan handle it.
Because Margo herself was unfamiliar with the chanicum, Mortarion also selected a Techmarine, Bast, to accompany her.
Mortarion had a vague impression of that sowhat dull-looking Techmarine.
Hades seed to have ntioned him before, with surprisingly high praise.
Bast had even been nominated by both Hades and Enrique as a candidate for the next Master of the Forge of the Armoury. If he was truly capable of inheriting that position, then he surely had the ability to manage relations with the Forge Worlds and bring Hades’ ship back to the Death Guard without trouble.
Thus the Lord of Death calmly sent the two of them off as his representatives, with a squad of Death Guard assigned as their escort.
Mortarion, of course, paid no mind to Korklan’s blinking and frantic signals. He simply sent the savant back to continue producing anti-psyker weaponry and quietly strengthened the Grave Wardens’ patrols around him.
‘And the final matter to settle…’
If the Death Guard truly reached the final step… the Lord of Death had already made his decision.
He summoned Vorx and Garro, ordering them to seal away or alter all traces of the Commander aboard the Endurance.
Hades’ office, his rest chamber, his private forge—all sealed, with entry forbidden unless by Mortarion’s order.
Then ca the manuals Hades had written, the Grave Warden system he had singlehandedly established. That was easy enough to handle—Mortarion personally deleted all the strange quotes Hades had left scattered throughout the manuals.
He collected those peculiar sayings into another booklet, but left it unsigned.
In the dueling cages, Mortarion edited the recordings: Hades’ silly grins at the crowd were hidden, only leaving behind blurred fragnts of footage.
The Lord of Death watched calmly as his Legion grew puzzled by his actions. Yet Mortarion had never concealed Hades’ achievents. Quite the opposite—the morial hall aboard the Endurance forever displayed the Commander’s deeds, and Mortarion did not forbid instructors from ntioning the Commander during lectures.
For a ti, rumors spread within the Death Guard that the Commander’s departure held hidden reasons. Vorx and Garro, however, maintained strict silence.
Mortarion gave no answers. He only added a new subject—Legionary Honor—to the curriculum across the worlds under Death Guard control. And within that, the Commander naturally appeared as one of the greatest influences on the Legion’s identity, honored as the pioneer of anti-psyker warfare.
All they needed to record were the deeds he had done, objectively and fairly, with no description of his character.
When the next wave of recruits arrived to join the Death Guard, they would be introduced to a Commander who was responsible, perfect, yet distant.
A figure both powerful and remote, who had profoundly shaped the Legion.
In his bone-white and deep-green office, Mortarion silently read through Hades’ various strange remarks once more.
He felt a twinge of discouragent—but perhaps it was necessary.
For the new blood about to enter the Legion, Mortarion thought silently, if the chance ever ca (and hopefully it never would), then yes—they would shout “For Hades!” with all the responsibility and devotion such words deserved.
As for whether the old veterans, the ones who joked endlessly about Hades’ humor, could ever summon that sa kind of pure, personal, subjective faith…
Mortarion himself could not.
And if Hades were to return, see all of this, and begin cursing Mortarion, demanding that it all be undone…
Then Mortarion would simply convert Hades’ private chamber into a public exhibition, lay out all his various sayings there, along with that damned Macragge blanket spread across his bed.
Ah—and don’t cover up that tear in it…
—Mortarion had already begun to look forward to that future: Hades’ return, his furious scolding, and his demand to change everything back.
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