"I still don't understand."
Lady Psyche extended a finger and idly traced it across Typhus's armor, producing a faint hiss.
A layer of sticky mucus from Nurgle immediately accumulated on Lady Psyche's finger, corroding it.
"Why did such a good person as Hades have to die like that?"
A butterfly made of gauze fluttered up from her shoulder. The stone called Typhus slowly muttered in response, like one of his brews giving a soft bubble.
"Only we thought so."
Typhus said slowly,
"Back then, everyone called him a monster... Have you forgotten how those people cursed you? You fell in love with a monster, Psyche."
"And so his death..."
Typhus murmured reluctantly,
"Was inevitable within the cycle. Fate absurdly placed a soul named 'Hades' into the monster known as humanity's cancer."
"He was only an innocent Soulless."
Tears fell from Psyche's perfect left side, and Typhus found himself feeling somewhat saddened as well—
After devoting herself to Slaanesh, Psyche had become increasingly sentimental, more emotional, and more easily bored.
"Stop deceiving yourself... We all know he was not merely a Soulless..."
Typhus's voice lowered.
"But what exactly was he...? I wonder how Mortarion's side is progressing?"
Lady Psyche let out a loud sigh. Greater Daemons were not permitted to be the first to enter that layer of fate—
They would forever be pearls embellishing the Primarchs. The first would forever be the Primarchs.
"Regardless..."
Psyche's eyes curved.
"He will forever be that moral and kind person I remember."
Hades was absolutely not an ordinary Soulless.
He had known it for a long time... yet had always refused to say it aloud.
Dim poisonous mist drifted through the air.
Mortarion panted. His eyes were nearly blind, and the poison gas atop Barbarus's mountain corroded him. The Primarch could already hear