Endurance, Space Marine personal quarters.
Now.
.
Hades—no, He Shi now—was sitting at his beloved little desk, painting his beloved little miniatures.
He set down the 30k Mortarion miniature he had just finished painting and stretched. Looking up, he saw a small display case placed against the wall on his desk.
After thinking for a moment, He Shi casually took out the possibly genuine, possibly fake Emperor figurine he had bought online earlier.
Bored out of his mind, he placed the two little guys on the desk, and then—
That Mortarion miniature started moving. It even spoke.
The miniature burst into laughter, then somehow pulled out a xenos head.
"Hahahahahahaha! I finally killed you! Father!!!"
The Emperor figurine silently watched the Mortarion miniature from a short distance away. Mortarion noticed it.
"Who are you, stranger?"
The Emperor figurine suddenly began shining with dazzling golden light!
"I'm your dad!"
.
Hades, lying on the bed, instantly opened his eyes.
What a weird dream!
That was Hades's first thought upon waking from a prolonged coma.
His second thought was—
Holy shit!!!!
As his consciousness returned, all the functions of his fully modified body began operating at normal output.
And the first thing his brain received was its perception of the surrounding environment.
A smell charged straight into the depths of Hades's soul!
It was like an ultra-ultra-ultra-strong mixture of lemon, mint, licorice, extra-concentrated disinfectant, and bleach, frozen in an ice cellar into icy water with floating chunks of ice, then mixed with aged vinegar, chili water, ultra-concentrated alcohol, and chlorine water before being thrown back into the freezer and chilled to perfection.
Then the whole concoction was crammed into a compression pump and blasted at Hades's lungs through a high-pressure water cannon at maximum power!
Hades felt as if that scent were about to churn his brain into mush.
He instinctively bolted upright, coughing violently without pause. One hand covered his mouth and nose while the other clutched his throat.
"Cough, cough, cough—fuck—cough, cough, cough."
To be fair, Barbarus was a world filled with poisonous gas. There were highly toxic zones, moderately toxic zones, and low-toxicity zones, but "non-toxic" was simply not an option.
It was like keeping someone in an environment with a strange smell, increasing their sense of smell a hundredfold, then throwing them into clean air. Anyone would find that unbearable.
And that was Hades's current situation.
Even though he had been breathing clean air while unconscious, once his cerebral cortex became active and his consciousness awakened, suddenly receiving such radically different environmental information triggered an intense stress response.
"Cough, cough. Cough cough cough cough!!"
A large hand reached over, holding a spherical censer. Several lines of Barbarus script were carved into the simply perforated, brass-colored censer—
"Born in toxic lands, silent in miasmic ground."
A familiar, gentle, enchanting scent of home slowly wafted from the little censer.
That pale, slender hand, bony as a skeleton's, offered the cute and charming little censer to Hades.
"Cough cough cough. Th-thank... cough cough. You!"
Freshly awakened from a long coma and forcibly booted up by fresh air until he was dizzy and disoriented, Hades paid no heed to his image. He snatched the little censer without ceremony and pressed it to his nose.
The warm, gentle scent immediately diluted the sharp, icy air.
Hades took several deep breaths from the little censer, first neutralizing the irritation he had just felt.
Then he forcibly slowed his breathing, which had become rapid from his stress response. His fully modified body faithfully obeyed the command from his brain.
Steady, steady. Smoke slowly drifted from the perforations in thin streams.
At last, Hades calmed down.
He looked up.
.
Hades was currently in a spacious, simple room. It was not small, and its ceiling was higher than those of most homes on Barbarus. A tall workbench stood against the wall, with some basic tools on it, while weapons hung neatly along the walls.
As for Hades, he wore simple casual clothes and was half-sitting on a plain bed. Other than a rectangular pillow, there was no blanket.
The temperature in the room was just right. He had no need for one.
And within the room, the person who drew Hades's attention most was undoubtedly the one who had just handed him the censer.
The towering primarch was seated in a chair slightly too small for his frame.
Mortarion wore no armor, only simple combat casual wear. A gray cloak trailed along the floor, while a dull moss-green shirt was cinched by dark brown leather straps. Silver-white clasps occasionally adorned the straps, gleaming brightly and breaking up the darkness of his attire.
He wore black trousers below, their excess folds tightly bound by gray-white leg wraps. His heavy gray boots had sharp edges and exceptionally thick soles.
A round silver medallion, somewhat exaggerated compared to Mortarion's overall outfit, decorated his belt.
The medallion's perfect circular shape was disrupted by six protruding spikes, three on each side, with a skull carved at its center.
Hades knew it all too well—it was the emblem of the Death Guard.
Several slender bronze chains hung from his shoulders, and the censer slowly releasing poisonous gas was attached to them. One clasp on a chain was missing a censer—
That censer was now in Hades's hands.
.
Mortarion looked at Hades. His face, unusually unmasked by a respirator, carried an amused yet gratified expression.
"Looks like I'm not the only one unaccustomed to the air here."
Hades blinked blankly. Wait, just now, just now... so that pungent smell had been normal air?!
No!!!!
He didn't want to become a poison gas canister, aaaargh!
But now was not the time for Hades to wail. He quickly sorted out the situation.
He and Mortarion had probably been saved by the Emperor, and he had already been transformed into a Death Guard Space Marine.
And Hades should currently be aboard a Death Guard warship.
Of course, putting everything else aside, there was one thing he needed to confirm first.
Hades composed his expression, his face turning serious.
"Mortarion, what happened in the end with your duel against Nac'Lare?"
A smile bloomed on Death's lips.
"I killed it. After you fell unconscious, that monster's previous injuries left it unable to defeat me."
Sigh. Was that how it happened?
Back then, wasn't it—wait?
Hades clearly remembered... He couldn't remember. Uh... it seemed like that had been what happened?
Maybe his consciousness had already been unclear at the time, or perhaps the modification surgery had blurred his memories.
Anyway, it was good enough that Mortarion had killed Nac'Lare in the end!
Hades's previous efforts had not been in vain.
"Congratulations! You did it, Mortarion!"
Hades could not help smiling as well, though his grin was clearly more exaggerated than Death's. The corners of his mouth nearly reached the sky.
"Sorry I passed out at the end. I wasn't much help."
"No."
Mortarion gently shook his head.
"If you had not helped me suppress Nac'Lare's Psychic Power the first time, the outcome of that battle... would have been difficult to say."
Death's eyes were full of gratitude. In comparison, Hades, now that he knew the final result, seemed far more carefree.
"Haha, don't be modest, Mortarion. I really didn't do much."
"But what's going on here? We aren't on Barbarus now, are we?"
It was as though Hades had only just realized the environment they were currently in.
Mortarion smiled to himself. Compared to Hades's own circumstances, he had indeed asked about the final outcome of Mortarion's decisive battle first.
This one, this one was another boost in favorability.
Enjoy reading (°3°)
Before you continue