Endurance, hidden meeting room.
Now.
.
It was not a particularly large space.
The spartan conference room had an outdated, rarely seen mechanical clock hanging on its white wall, ticking away drily. A banner hung from the opposite wall, but it bore no decoration, merely a solid color with yellowing edges.
A long table stood in the center of the room. Six company captains sat separately along its two longer sides, while at the shorter end facing the door sat the Death Guard's chief commander, captain of the First Company—
Barasyn.
A small lamp stood before each of them, the room's only source of light. The dim yellow glow hummed weakly, barely illuminating the already dark chamber.
"Please, sit."
Barasyn spoke from across the table. The Barbarus dialect he pronounced with a High Gothic accent sounded especially strange; the soft syllables were stressed, making the brief phrase come out in fits and starts.
He gestured for Hades to take the seat opposite him on the other side of the table.
[Thank you.]
Fluent High Gothic.
Hades sat down.
A brief silence followed as the clock on the wall ticked on.
[You do not seem surprised.]
Barasyn looked at Hades, his tone steady.
[With such an unusual training method, I had more or less realized something.]
Hades answered smoothly.
[.We were presumptuous. We failed to make proper arrangements.]
Hades blinked. He had not expected the other side to be so polite.
[No, no. I very much enjoyed training with all of you from Terra. I also learned many different tactics.]
Upon hearing Hades's answer, Barasyn remained expressionless, giving away none of his thoughts.
[Let us both be more candid.]
[Hades.]
[A dead soul from Barbarus, correct?]
Hades nodded.
It seemed they had thoroughly investigated some of what he had done on