The ventilation ducts humd as air was cycled in and out. The foul ichor on the floor quietly solidified, its repugnant presence lingering.
Mortarion’s cold, raspy voice ca through the channel, sending a chill down Hades’ spine.
"It’s exactly… as you saw..."
(Hades and Mortarion’s bolded conversation occurs in Barbarusian.)
Hades barely finished before realizing he’d phrased it poorly. He quickly pivoted, trying to soothe Mortarion’s emotions before explaining further.
‘You can’t reason with soone when they’re angry. And Mortarion’s a Primarch—it’s doubly impossible.’
"I know you’ve been busy dealing with the Librarium because of Calas," Hades began cautiously. "I didn’t want them causing you more trouble, so I kept an eye on things here."
"Then Fernando ca to ."
Hades sped up, talking as fast as he could in an attempt to gloss over the incident.
"During a previous mission, Librarian Jose was struck by an enemy psychic attack. Even after being brought back to the Endurance for treatnt, his condition didn’t improve. Chief Librarian Fernando tried everything to cleanse the corruption, but ultimately had no choice but to confine him."
Hades knew Fernando had valid reasons for his decisions. But now, complete transparency was the only option. To hide anything—even a minor detail—would doom not just the two of them but likely Barasine as well.
You don’t try to hide things from a Primarch once they’re suspicious.
"After learning about my anti-psychic resistance, Fernando reached out to , hoping I could help purge our comrade, who had already been possessed by a... Daemon. At the sa ti—"
Mortarion raised a brow, cutting him off sharply.
"Daemon?"
"Hades, have you lost your mind?"
"When those shamanic sorcerers prattle on about Daemons, I can at least understand. Their dull brains can’t grasp science."
"But you? What’s your excuse, Hades?"
The rising threat in Mortarion’s tone was unmistakable.
Hades swallowed nervously.
"I-I call these creatures Daemons because they resemble the ones in Barbaran legends. We can debate what to call them later."
‘Don’t argue with Mortarion’s worldview.’ Hades silently resolved. ‘Call them whatever you want—if you insist they’re angels, I’ll agree without hesitation.’
"But I didn’t want to waste your ti, especially since managing a Legion is already exhausting. So, I temporarily referred to them as Daemons for simplicity’s sake."
Mortarion let out a derisive snort, dismissing the triviality of the term.
Hades blinked furtively. ‘Alright, one hurdle cleared. Up next: concepts of gods. That ought to blow up Mortarion’s worldview.’
"Once we realized the entity was a psychic being, I grabbed my scythe, Obituary, and joined Fernando to deal with it directly."
With the background set, Hades prepared for the crucial phase of his argunt—desperate damage control.
"I knew you’d be busy reviewing Legion matters at this ti, so I hesitated to disturb you."
"And besides—"
"Honestly, I’ve avoided troubling you all this ti because I know how tirelessly you oversee the Legion. So, I made the decision on my own."
"But rembering what you taught on Barbarus—to always act cautiously—I contacted Barasine to inform him that the Chief Librarian and I had discovered a psychic entity in the Librarium area and were sealing off the zone."
Mortarion snorted again.
"And this is why you’ve essentially written off an entire sector?"
‘Oh, co on, how am I supposed to respond to that?’ Hades cursed internally.
In truth, the Endurance, a Gloriana-class battleship, had more than enough spare sectors. The loss of one wasn’t critical, but explaining it to Mortarion was another matter entirely.
Even though his power armor was temperature-regulated, Hades felt as though he were drenched in sweat. The sterile, detergent-like sll of Astartes perspiration filled his helt.
"I didn’t expect it to explode at the end," Hades admitted weakly. "Had I known, I would have notified you, even if it was inconvenient."
"Afterward, we recognized the severity of the situation, so we reported it to you imdiately after securing the area."
The channel went silent. Mortarion didn’t respond imdiately, which Hades took as a sign that his explanation had been accepted—for now.
Hades seized the opportunity to de-escalate.
"For now, the top priority is dealing with the biohazard in this area. We may not be able to cover all aspects, so we’ll need your help."
He aid to show Mortarion their willingness to take responsibility while avoiding further unnecessary confrontation. Discussions about the Warp had to wait until they could talk face-to-face. Any sensitive information shared over comms risked interception or distortion.
The other end of the channel went silent.
Just as Hades was starting to wonder if the comms had malfunctioned, Mortarion’s raspy voice broke the quiet:
"When this area is fully cleansed, you co out. This matter is far from over."
Though Hades had expected this, hearing Mortarion say it out loud filled him with dread.
Hades knew Mortarion was angrier about being kept in the dark than about the Librarium’s secrets themselves. By Mortarion’s usual rules and deanor, Fernando would likely bear the brunt of the punishnt.
But for now, Hades had drawn Mortarion’s ire onto himself.
‘It’s fine,’ Hades thought. ‘Mortarion won’t sentence to death. Fernando’s fate, though, is another story.’
Later, Hades would have to plead for the Librarium's survival, argue for the Terran veterans, clear himself of suspicion, and even educate Mortarion on the Warp.
The difficulty of these tasks felt far greater than taking down a Plague Marine solo.
‘Can I just die now?’
Why was it that everyone else’s Warhamr stories were straightforward—fighting and killing? Why had his life turned into a narrative simulator?
But, as the saying went, a man under the eaves must bow his head.
Still, if only he’d been assigned a different Primarch, like Sanguinius or Guilliman. Wouldn’t that have been better?
< >
Flas roared and surged, greedily consuming everything in their path. Boosted by oxygen-rich air, the fire danced and raged in an unrestrained frenzy.
Hades stood at the door of the sealed chamber, his fla gun in hand. Taking a deep breath, he unleashed a volley of superheated fire onto the Protheum-soaked room. For his incendiary weapon, this chamber—brimming with organic material and Protheum—was paradise.
The acrid stench of burning flesh mixed with the pervasive reek of decay, saturating the Librarium.
Everything in the chamber had to be incinerated. Weapons tainted by the ichor were likely unsalvageable. Hades felt a pang of regret but ultimately supported Fernando’s decision.
Farther from the chamber, in the main Librarium, Fernando was flipping through critical texts. These volus, though already reeking and showing the first signs of decay at their edges, would soon be burned. Fernando was using his helt’s recording system to preserve the essential content in advance.
"Hades, eight o’clock, under the shield," Mortarion’s voice ca through the comms.
Without changing his defeated expression, Hades wearily adjusted his aim and fired.
Mortarion insisted on keeping the video feed active. After forcing Hades to sweep through the chamber with his helt cam like an obsessive perfectionist, docunting every detail, the Primarch finally allowed him to resu burning the place down.
The toxic fus were enough to make Hades gag, even through his helt. He suspected Mortarion might be doing this deliberately to ss with him.
Initially, Mortarion wanted to collect samples of the ichor but ultimately abandoned the idea, recognizing the contamination risks.
At that mont, Mortarion was multitasking—reviewing Legion data, examining Librarium reports and surveillance logs from the past decade, and still finding ti to micromanage Hades.
anwhile, Barasine continued overseeing the cleanup of the area under Mortarion’s orders.
< >
When the golden flas had consud the last traces of the chamber, Hades hefted a bucket and poured another load of Protheum into the inferno, pushing the blaze to its peak.
Hades walked through the roaring flas, fla gun in hand, the firelight tracing the contours of his power armor.
At the entrance to the Librarium, Fernando stood waiting in silence.
Hades approached, retrieved his scythe Obituary from where it leaned against the wall, and nodded at Fernando.
Fernando returned the gesture, then raised his fla gun and unleashed a blast, setting the Librarium’s books ablaze.
Pages burned and scattered like ashes in the wind, crumbling to nothing before they could reach the ground.
Hades stood with his weapon lowered, leaving Fernando to his mont of closure.
The Death Guard—or rather, the Dusk Raiders’—accumulated knowledge burned to ashes. The Chief Librarian watched it all with cold detachnt, standing witness to both the destruction of the past and the uncertainty of their future.
The inferno consud everything as the ventilation system roared at full power, feeding flammable gas into the flas until the entire Librarium was a furnace.
Fernando and Hades exited the area. Hades turned and locked the Librarium’s doors behind them.
Fernando did not look back.
Inside, the fire would burn for at least a year, continuously fueled by Protheum channeled in through auxiliary pipelines.
The first phase of the cleanup was officially complete.
< >
Mortarion’s quiet breathing echoed through the comms.
"Now, both of you, get out and decontaminate."
Hades turned to face the exit, taking a deep breath.
Now he had to face Mortarion.
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