Hades is dead.
Angron thought slowly, his eyes fixed on the Dreadnought standing in the pale flames, but his attention was on Malcador.
The emotions expressed by the Imperial Regent now told the Lord of Red Sand that now was not a critical time.
good…
Angron thought heavily. This answer... did not surprise him.
In other words, this is the most realistic ending.
Angron was silent. He seemed to be thinking about how to tell Guilliman the bad news - or hide it from him. Robert Guilliman's condition was not very good now, and it seemed that this news should not be told to him too early.
A faint, or perhaps an immense sadness enveloped him, not from Angron, but from the Death Guards.
Angron glanced imperceptibly at the silent Death Guard standing there—sad, very sad, with a look of impotent rage.
Normally, such strong emotions would make people burst into tears and collapse to the ground, unable to accept reality, but in fact, the Death Guards just stood there without much movement.
If Angron had not been able to sense people's emotions, he would not have noticed that something was wrong with the Death Guard.
… Their grief is worth mourning.
Angron thought that after Malcador's words, people who were familiar with Hades would naturally—
Machado
Angron suddenly realized that Malcador did not seem sad.
The Imperial Regent was surrounded by his golden psychic energy, making it even more difficult for Angron to touch his emotions, which made Angron deliberately ignore the old man -
The Lord of the Red Sands realized that Malcador could detect Angron's attempts to spy on others.
But even after a brief visit, Malcador did not show any sadness. Perhaps he and Hades were not familiar with each other and were just nodding acquaintances.
Angron thought, but then Malcador showed emotions similar to "joy" and "amazement".
Angron realized that something was wrong.
In the short time he had spent with Malcador, Angron had not thought that the belligerent old man was a perverted man with no humanity at all, who would take pleasure in the death of a noble man.
…
Angron was silent, and the Primarch began to hypothesize... Was what Malcador had just said really the truth
The Lord of Red Sand stood behind Malcador, staring at the old man's back with narrowed eyes, trying to find out something.
Malcador sensed something and turned his head slightly. Under his protective suit and hood, his eyes smiled and looked at Angron with a complicated expression.
Angron instantly withdrew his perception and continued to stare at Fearless honestly.
But deep down, Angron mourned for the poor Death Guard who had been deceived.
At the same time, the Lord of Red Sand also realized for the first time what the word insidious meant.
Malcador took a small step forward, and the flickering nameless white fire began to dissipate. The flame had no temperature and slowly dissipated in the wind.
And where the white fire scattered, the pale green slime mold began to retreat.
Malcador tutted quietly in amazement.
He stood expectantly before Kharas Typhon, the fearless soul now complete - though not entirely his original soul, as Malcador could see the handiwork of the Warp.
But the subspace at this time was no longer the one they hated.
"How do you feel?"
Malcador spoke calmly, leaning on his cane and circling around the Contemptuous Dreadnought.
The Dreadnought made a hissing sob, like the sound of a person who had just been resuscitated from drowning.
As he neighed, white fire suddenly ignited in the open space between Malcador and the Dreadnought, and then extinguished again.
A huge sickle was lying silently where the fire had just gone out. Patterns like new leaves climbed on the sickle and the blade, and the flashing black dots in between indicated that the sickle was made of black stone.
Black stone, under different conditions, can either counter psychic energy or amplify psychic energy.
And now, this sickle is obviously of the type that can enhance psionic power.
Behind Malcador, Vox moved, and Malcador spoke.
"explain,"
"My lord, I recognize this sickle. This is Lord Mortarion's Mistletoe. It was made by the Lord of Fire Dragons and given to my lord after a joint battle. It has been displayed in the primarch's personal collection room."
Malcador was lost in thought. The old man thought for a moment, then laughed in disbelief. He said to himself,
"Smart kid."
Malcador thought with a smile, and he felt mocked again. He thought of Mortarion who had always argued with him about everything.
Mortarion deliberately provoked Malcador simply because Malcador was a psyker.
There is no other, any other reason.
And now, Makado thought, this guy even left himself an anchor in the physical world without any guidance, and skillfully repaired a broken soul and made him his agent in the physical world. Isn't this a bit -
Machado smiled with relief, but also felt that he was being ridiculed.
These two sons of the Death Guard,
Makado thought,
Each one of them is here to defeat him.
But even so, with everyone's attention focused, Malcador still said calmly,
"Then he's all right."
He looked up at Karas, who seemed to have regained his senses.
"What did you see? Tell me."
Machado said that when Karas's sluggish voice sounded, he seemed to have just woken up from a dream.
Malcador was used to it. People who had just emerged from the Warp usually seemed to have gained enlightenment.
"Mist..."
Callas said, as if asking himself,
"... Mortarion... How could you die so easily... No..."
Malcador glanced at the mistletoe on the ground.
"Not dead."
"…if he dies—"
Karas's voice suddenly stopped.
“Not dead?!”
"Mortarion is still alive?! Damn psyker! But I saw his empty armor with my own eyes. If he is still—"
Malcador tapped his staff.
"I understand your feelings, but be careful with your words, psychic."
Karas paused abruptly. I am a psyker, Karas Typhon thought, and he suddenly realized what he had just said. That was the title that Mortarion or Hades would use, not what he would use.
"Mortarion is alive,"
Hades might not be dead, Angron beside him added silently in his heart.
Machado said,
"And you have proven this, Karas Typhon, that your soul is complete - why not try to use your psionics again? You have a great talent for psionics."
Karaston was stunned, his mind was a mess, he was still immersed in the fact that Mortarion and Hades were dead, but now the old man told him that Mortarion was not dead.
… not dead
"So how do we find—"
Malcador tapped his staff impatiently.
"At least we don't have to worry too much about him now. Maybe we can try to find a place where the curtain is weak."
The old man thought of several other planets in the Ultramar star field where plague had broken out before.
That's it, Malcador thought.
The old man was walking and planning his next schedule.
He needed to confirm Mortarion's condition first, and then stabilize the Ultramar region - when long-distance communications were cut off, the confederation system became particularly important.
Then came the waiting, Malcador thought, waiting for the moment when the turbulence of the Warp subsided. It would only take a moment - or a signpost - for the fleet to support Cartier and the fleet to the dark side of the Imperium to pass.
Good
(End of this chapter)