Chapter 239: God Wouldn't Care About Ranks, Only Human Would
Hades fell silent.
In truth, when it came to his own Black Domain, his greatest source of information at the moment was the Lord of Figurines, Trazyn.
The second one was the empirical rules he had pieced together from his own practice.
He knew how to sense the Black Domain, how to contract and expand it, and to what extent it needed to be pushed in order to defeat certain types of psykers.
But beyond that—when it came to the principles behind the Black Domain—he was completely reliant on whatever came out of Trazyn's mouth.
And till this day, he still wondered whether Trazyn was lying to him.
According to Trazyn, Hades himself was essentially a Warp black hole, slowly and inevitably leaking everything from the Warp into the lawless void outside the universe.
Consuming the Warp and psychic energy would accelerate the black hole's expansion, so the Emperor had placed restrictions on him.
In physical reality, this manifested as an anti-psyker advantage, something his own combat experience confirmed.
But… why was it that when others prayed to him, they could still receive a response???
Hades pondered.
Regarding this so-called "response," he needed more data and feedback before he could form any conclusions.
And what if those people weren't even praying to him in the first place? The so-called "response" might not be coming from him at all.
Aside from the Warp's four petty merchants—Nurgle, Khorne, Tzeentch, and Slaanesh—there were also other daemons that presided over different emotions or concepts.
The thoughts and emotions of psykers could give birth to corresponding daemons in the Warp, or be absorbed by daemons that already existed.
One famous example was the future Sapphire King, a daemon born from the death of the primarch Ferrus Manus.
At the moment of the primarch's death, the intense emotional upheaval of the Iron Hands Legion and Manus himself gave birth to this daemon, which was imbued with a particular hatred for the Iron Hands.
So in reality, the Warp was full of all sorts of miscellaneous daemons—it didn't have to be the Big Four. Other daemons could also answer the emotions and thoughts of mortals—so long as the believers' prayers were directed their way.
Thus, it was entirely possible that the power from those prayers didn't end up with him at all.
Although lately, he had been feeling an odd, prickling unease everywhere.
He needed more information.
Hades spoke gravely.
"Korklan, regarding this so-called 'response,' what we need right now is hard evidence—not your speculation."
"My lord! I'll pray right—"
"You! Don't you dare pray here!"
Hades, predicting the Magos's move, cut him off before he could act. Korklan squirmed in displeasure, trying to show his discontent, but Hades decisively ignored him.
He realized that talking to a fanatic was pointless. Even if you asked him for evidence, what you'd get would likely be filtered and embellished. So Hades turned his gaze to the one who had been pretending to be an ostrich just moments ago—Margo.
Margo has short black hair, golden eyes, with freckles across her face that looked like chemical burns—a characteristic of the Galaspar people.
She had faint burn scars on the side of her face. Based on her occupation, Hades suspected she might have been scalded by the high-temperature transport piping inside a Hadeshound tank.
When tank gunners bailed out in an emergency, it was indeed easy to get burned by equipment that hadn't cooled down yet. But Hades had no intention of widening the tanks; these hounds needed to stay agile.
Honestly, she'd had it rough—first being suspected by him of being an Alpha Legion operative, and then getting tangled up with the fanatic Korklan.
It was obvious that the heated exchange between him and Korklan earlier had frightened this mortal, who, apart from the Techmarines, had hardly interacted with other Death Guard.
But someone who had been scared witless wasn't fit for interrogation—they would instinctively go along with the interrogator's words, surrendering and agreeing to anything.
Hades cleared his throat and spoke as gently as he could:
"Margo of Squad 037, don't be nervous. You've merely been dragged into this by Korklan. Tell me the truth, and you can return to the Legion."
"I remember you, you were one of the Hadeshound unit in the second boarding battle, serving under Captain Sothran. Your squad penetrated the deepest into the enemy fleet. You did well."
"Y-yes… my lord, I saw you back then."
"Yes. You were near the enemy's command chamber. I happened to be there to behead their leader. You were trying to take the enemy down with you—yes, I saw it."
"A brave and noble act. Speaking only for myself, you've already proven your loyalty to the Death Guard and to the Imperium."
Hades nodded gravely.
He had always maintained a respectful attitude toward souls who dared to charge forward and sacrifice themselves—provided they hadn't shouted 'For Hades!' while doing it.
But Hades suddenly realized he might have said too much. A measured amount of encouragement was useful—it could stir positive emotions—but overdoing it could push those emotions into another extreme.
The problem was, Hades thought, that in his position, aside from lunatics like Korklan—who didn't care about rank and had even dared to curse the Emperor—most people would be thrilled just to have someone of higher rank speak to them.
Sure enough, Margo's trembling grew even more severe; she looked on the verge of tears.
Humans were social creatures, after all. When their sacrifices and determination were seen and acknowledged, and even praised, what could be more moving than that?
Well—perhaps if the one giving the praise was someone with a rather exceptional identity.
Hades sighed inwardly.
At this rate, there's no chance of them finishing the interrogation today.
He also didn't trust letting another Grave Warden handle it—if these two spouted some earth-shattering nonsense, the chance of him being labelled as heretic is quite high.
"Margo, I hope you can calm yourself. There's much to be done and little time. I believe you can get your mind back in order."
Hades gave a small smile, trying to ease the atmosphere.
"Even I, too, sometimes get nervous. It's simply human nature. Don't put pressure on yourself over that feeling."
They were just words of comfort. She wasn't an Astartes with a mind and body rebuilt; Hades didn't believe such emotions could be shut down instantly.
Margo still kept her head down in silence.
But then, to his surprise, Hades suddenly felt a bizarre, absurd sensation. In this completely sealed space, he sensed a faint tremor, almost like a soft breeze.
'Huh?'
With a faint suspicion, Hades looked at Margo across the tribunal table. A bad thought surfaced from the dim, murky waters of his mind
'There's no way.'
Margo still looked as before: draped in ashen exhaustion, but no longer trembling. A deeper weariness and helplessness now weighed over her.
'You must be joking.'
With the distance between them so short, his senses sharpened. The once-vague sensation became clearly defined, the path of thought became focused—pointing straight at him.
It was undeniable. Even he had to admit it: he had truly felt a prayer… and had actually answered it—though he had no idea what he had answered.
Korklan, delighted, kept jotting down notes on everything happening in the room.
"My apologies, my lord, I've completely calmed down now."
The weak voice rose; Margo lifted her head but still didn't dare meet Hades' eyes. Her gaze fixed instead on her own reflection on the tabletop.
"What were you just doing?"
"Praying, Lord Hades."
"To me?"
"To you."
"I'm not a god."
"You are."
Hades felt a wave of helplessness. If some machine-oil-covered fanatic believed in him, fine—he could chalk that up to fragments of the Void Dragon at work—but someone who had once believed in the Imperial Truth turning to faith in a god?
He decided to lie.
At the very least, unlike Korklan—who already knew the truth—Margo had not yet been "contaminated" with too much information.
"The Imperial Truth teaches that there are no gods in this world."
"I merely happen to possess an ability similar to an anti-psyker's. In essence, I am just an ordinary human. I was born, and one day I will die, just like you."
Margo fell silent, seeming to be thinking about something.
Hades could only hope she hadn't already been brainwashed by Korklan.
Then, she spoke cautiously.
"My lord, forgive my ignorance, but I have read the books. They all say the same thing—if you are not a god…"
"Then you are the god's agent in this world."
Hades almost choked on his own blood.
Back when he had been driven out by crowds because of his Black Domain, he could never have imagined that one day he'd be faced with such a bizarre scene—having to prove he was human.
When did he ever need to argue about something this ridiculous?
"Why do you think I'm a god? If it's because of this so-called prayer, let me make it clear—it's just… you could think of it as psychic power. Sorcery."
Blanks weren't something the masses could easily understand. If he directly called himself an Blank, it would be near impossible to explain.
But people did understand sorcery and psykers—especially in the Death Guard, a Legion utterly deranged in its hatred of psykers.
Margo said nothing. She stared at her reflection on the table's surface.
For someone who had clawed her way up from the slums of Galaspar, the weight of Hades' words, backed by his status, was enormous.
This man was handsome, but he didn't look like the gods described in books—shrouded in golden light or draped in black veils. He wore no plain flaxen robe or eternal olive-leaf crown.
And yet, Margo still believed Hades was a god—or at least, not human.
But… why did she think that? If she put aside the hazy, drowsy feeling from her prayers—
At last, she seized on the key.
"My lord, ever since your conversation with the Magos just now—and even while speaking with me—I've felt something was… off."
"I've been searching for what exactly caused that feeling of dissonance. Now I've finally found it."
Hades raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Margo?"
Whatever it was, surely he could just fix it.
Margo took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly.
"My lord, you see yourself as human—just like me."
Hades blinked.
Uh? Well, of course I do. Isn't that obvious?
"Yes, that's right."
Hades nodded.
A smile crept across Margo's lips.
She had found her proof.
"That's it, my lord. That's exactly it."
"You only care about being human yourself, but you ignored what I said earlier. In truth, no lord of high station would allow me to equate them with myself."
Margo enunciated each word deliberately,
"A god would not care about rank. Only humans would."
A god was equal to all. They looked upon the sorrows of the world without mockery.
Only a god could possess such flawless qualities. Even the great lords carried pride and condescension.
If it had been anyone else, Margo was sure that after her earlier words, she would have been torn apart.
"In all your words just now, you kept placing yourself on equal footing with me."
"And your attitude toward me was no different from your attitude toward the Magos."
From the side, the bound Korklan let out an electronic sound that was half admiration, half protest.
"A Legion commander, my lord—speaking as an equal with me, a lowliest mortal auxiliary trooper."
Hades froze.
"That is simply a matter of character. It's not a valid basis for your conclusion."
"You're still trying to convince me, my lord. Then perhaps you can tell me another lord that is like yourself?"
"I'll repeat exactly what I said to you to him."
Hades' mind began racing. But after a moment's thought, he realized… there wasn't such a person in the Death Guard. Even Vorx—
Well, maybe a Barbarus native might qualify… but a Galaspar native? Absolutely not.
Hades drew in a deep breath.
He could already tell there was no way to explain this cleanly. Even if he started pretending to be angry now, this particular girl wouldn't believe it.
"You can't just define your own concept of 'god' and then fit me into it. Perhaps I'm simply an exception."
"And what if we add the ability to answer a believer's prayer?"
Margo spoke quickly now.
"You have the name of an ancient god, you look upon all equally, you can answer the prayers of your faithful, and you drive away alien corruption—"
Her eyes flicked toward Korklan. The Magos immediately picked up the thread.
"You can comprehend the Silent Machines, banish the laws of Chaos, reshape planetary landscapes, and command the power that symbolizes death—"
Margo pressed on:
"With all that, are you simply a virtuous psyker of rare talent… or a god?"
"You possess the power, the knowledge, the virtue, and the authority of a god. If not a god, then what else should we call such a being?"
Oh no.
Hades slowly realized… there was no washing this off, even if he jumped into the Yellow River—
Not that Terra even had a Yellow River. Or an ocean anymore, for that matter.
Also—
Wait, am I really that powerful?
These two had already tangled themselves deep in their own logic, unable to pull free. And truth be told, Hades couldn't find any outright flaws in their reasoning.
Because, taken purely as a list of attributes, even by his own plain, human standards, such a person would be called a saint.
—If you only looked at the adjectives.
No! He was nothing of the sort! These two were turning him into some mythic figure—
This was slander. Blasphemy!
He knew the truth. He was not a god.
He was human.
And he was determined to keep his human status.
But it was clear he could not reason these two out of it.
After a long silence, Hades spoke slowly, voice hard.
"This is my final warning. I am human. Put away those dangerous thoughts."
Korklan's voice came bright with amusement, ending in a cheerful electronic crackle.
"Yes, my lord. Of course you're human."
The Magos had shown his stance, and Margo quickly followed.
"Yes, my lord. If you say so, then you are."
"I repent for my earlier offense, my lord."
She lowered her head… then raised it again, eyes gleaming.
"Lord Hades, Lord of the Underworld, I understand now. You are far more perfect than I had imagined."
Understand what?! Stop understanding things I never said!
What could he say to turn this around?
…Well, maybe if they didn't start preaching about it, there wouldn't be much harm.
Still—this was absurd. He always had contingency plans for Chaos incursions, but he had no contingency plan for being mistaken for a deity.
He fixed his expression into a stony mask.
"It seems you have not repented after all."
"In that case, you need punishment. I believe the dungeons aboard the Endurance will suit you well."
Margo and Korklan exchanged a look, watching Hades beat his retreat.
A strange sort of revolutionary camaraderie bloomed between two people from vastly different stations.
"See? It's just like what I told you—He is humble."
"Yes, Magos."
"And He will not truly punish us."
"I believe you, Magos."
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