Failed Us: 192 Special Issue

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The Indomitable?

Wisps of smoke rose from between her fingers. The corridors of the Death Guard's Gloriana-class Battleship were always dim and silent, like a cemetery lying still at midnight.

A faint rustle sounded, followed by soft footsteps.

Herrela exhaled a stream of white smoke. The tall, gaunt woman said nothing as she leaned against the door to Calas Typhon's quarters, her upper body concealed in shadow.

.

The towering giant silently came to stand beside her, but neither looked at the other. There was only quiet silence. If Hades were still here, he might have joked that they looked like guardian statues at a doorway.

Herrela raised the cigarette wrapped in Barbarus tobacco to her lips again. Behind the curling smoke, her complicated expression remained deeply etched.

After taking a deep drag, Herrela turned her head and blew out the smoke. She held the half-finished cigarette toward the primarch.

"Want a drag?"

Had it been another primarch, or anyone else, this would have been a grave act of disrespect. But for them, who had both clawed their way out of Barbarus's graveyard-like battlefields, they were all the same.

No.

The Pale Lord said hoarsely, watching coldly as Herrela coughed from the heavy-smelling tobacco.

After a stretch of silence,

You should smoke less.

Mortarion said. The giant took the cigarette from Herrela's hand. It looked like a toy in Mortarion's grasp. He barely moved his fingers, and the ember went out—the only source of light here vanished.

Your lungs are nearly black. I've delayed the process as much as I could. Or do you intend to let Chaos treat you?

The primarch's words were sharp, yet he glanced again at Calas's tightly shut door.

If he finds out, he'll scold you.

Mortarion said. Herrela's light cough instantly turned into