Chapter 328: Dark Clouds
[Conqueror]
Sarrin stood with her arms crossed, slightly puzzled as she stood beside Khârn. Before them, the envoy from Terra stood next to a live projection map, while the navigator who had brought it for explanation was trembling in a corner.
In contrast, the Master of the Forge, Peres, stood beside Hades with a much more casual air.
Though in terms of sheer pressure, even Hades was surpassed by the silent tension radiating from the Sisters of Silence and the Custodes lurking in the shadows—those two orders seemed to exist in a constant state of suppressed fury.
At first, Hades was discussing the map with Peres, but gradually, the expression on the Head of the Silent Sisterhood grew solemn. Hades' eyes were fixed on the projection, zooming in and out repeatedly.
At last, Hades called over the trembling navigator and asked a few brief questions—the poor man looked on the verge of fainting.
When the conversation finally ended, Captain Sarrin stepped forward briskly. She saluted with the Aquila to Hades, discreetly steadying the navigator behind her.
"My lord, did you discover something?"
The Head of the Silent Sisterhood did not meet her gaze. His eyes wandered over the map as he toyed absently with a small bone—perhaps a finger bone—in his hand.
After a long silence, Hades finally spoke:
"Here… there's a region where the Warp and realspace overlap. This is the area where Angron and his forces went missing, correct?"
Sarrin nodded.
"After Lord Angron led his forces to reinforce the Forge World of Salem, he learned from the local Mechanicus of a nearby civilization and went to launch an attack. However, they were ambushed by sorcery—according to the navigator's report, these witchcraft effects may have randomly displaced Lord Angron somewhere within this region."
Hades spoke slowly, eyes fixed on the data-laden map.
"Sarrin, if I may ask—this chart doesn't mark the dimensional rift with any High Gothic designation. What do the locals call it?"
"The Great Maelstrom, my lord."
The movement of Hades' hand froze. No wonder the place had seemed familiar…
This was going to be troublesome.
Seeing Hades remain silent, Sarrin asked uncertainly,
"My lord, is something wrong?"
The Head of the Silent Sisterhood turned his gaze to her.
"Nothing. Just… prepare for a hard fight."
. . .
On the eighth day after the Black Ship's arrival at the Conqueror, with Hades' assistance in tuning the communication channels, the World Eaters' Techmarines finally picked up a fragmented signal from Angron's armor.
The signal originated from a planet on the very edge of the Maelstrom—dark red, filthy, as though it had just been spat out by the Warp itself—and indeed, that was exactly what had happened.
The contents of the signal were grim. Though Angron still lived, the readings from the signal analysis of the Armour of Mars indicated the Primarch was in an extreme state—his emotions were dangerously heightened; he was severely anemic, feverish, convulsing, exhausted, and on the brink of death.
Had Hades not been present at the time, Master of the Forge Peres might well have fainted upon deciphering it.
Although Hades advised Khârn not to spread word of the Primarch's condition among the Legion—lest unnecessary turmoil arise—the news of Angron's near-death still spread quickly throughout the World Eaters.
Soon, a restless tension hung over the entire Legion. Astartes polished their chain-axes over and over again in grim silence.
Hades reflected that if their enemy truly was Khorne, then in their current agitated state, the World Eaters might easily stumble right into his snare.
Nor could Hades simply deploy blanks among the World Eaters' ships without clear justification—such a move would seem more like surveillance than protection.
Fortunately, during those eight days, Hades had done more than just help track the Armour of Mars signal.
He had prepared something else, something that might just prove useful.
For example, infiltrating the World Eaters Legion to investigate their morale—though it sounded absurd—Hades was the only person ever to score a perfect grade in Martian Tech-Priest diplomatic studies. So of course, he could pull it off.
Compared to dealing with the Death Guard or the Mechanicus, communicating with the World Eaters was practically effortless for Hades. All it took was lowering his airs, cracking a few jokes in Low Gothic, and showing a bit of real skill. That was enough.
With the cooperation of the World Eaters' Armoury, Hades managed to build good rapport with some of their Astartes. He even learned a few moves in the gladiatorial pits—how to swing an axe, World Eater–style.
Though the look on Charon's and Sister Nera's faces afterward was… difficult to describe.
. . .
"Lord Hades, we would appreciate it if you paid more attention to your image."
In the darkness beside the briefing chamber, Charon spoke each word with careful precision.
Hades stood before him, just at the edge of light, helmet off, the faint glow tracing the smile on his face.
Inside the chamber, Khârn had gathered the senior officers of the World Eaters at Hades' request.
Hades intended to discuss certain "precautions" before the battle began.
Charon swallowed hard. To him, Hades' earlier decision to mingle with common gladiators had already been foolish enough. As one of the Imperium's future leading figures, Hades ought to maintain dignity and distance.
When it came to their Primarch, the World Eaters were incapable of rational thought—Charon despised them for that.
He only hoped Hades wouldn't embarrass himself, or worse, the Imperium, in the upcoming coordination meeting.
Hades smiled faintly. His crimson eyes glowed in the dark as he turned toward the Custodian. The gold of Charon's armor looked dull in the shadow.
"And what kind of image would you prefer I maintain, Charon?"
Hades' tone was light.
Charon replied, stiff and formal, "You must keep your distance from the masses, maintain an air of mystery. You are nobility incarnate, my lord. I can serve as your intermediary."
Hades leaned slightly closer, his voice soft enough that only Charon and Sister Nera could hear.
"Like most of the Custodes, you mean?"
"Charon, that won't work with the World Eaters. Dropping an uninvited authority over them—most times, that ends in disaster."
"And unless you want to see them abandon the Silent Sisterhood's support in their frenzy to rescue their Primarch, I suggest you hold your tongue."
Charon froze, his breath catching. He turned instinctively toward Sister Nera, who met his gaze with equal surprise.
In their memory, this was the first time the Head of the Silent Sisterhood—the Lord of the Underworld, the Hades—had ever warned them.
And rather than being insulted, Charon felt a strange surge of satisfaction. This was good—it proved Hades was far more perceptive and calculating than they had thought. They had simply been deceived by his calm demeanor.
He quickly banished any trace of his earlier insolent thoughts.
With a formal bow and steady breath, he said, "At your will, Lord Hades."
The two fell silent. Hades seemed pleased with their response. He turned away as a servo-servant opened the door, and then strode out into the chamber beyond.
His voice carried clear and steady:
"Good day, Warriors. As the head of the Silent Sisterhood, I am honored to fight beside you. However, the coming war may prove highly unusual, and I wish to brief you all in advance—to prepare properly."
"First, I must inform you of the likely enemy and situation ahead. The planet from which the signal originated lies at the intersection of the Warp and realspace. That means the Legion will encounter many warp-born entities."
Hades paused, pacing slowly before the command lectern.
"The blanks—our nulls—are specialized against such foes. Therefore, I recommend that before the Legion reaches the target world, your Astartes conduct joint drills with the Sisters."
"That, after all, is precisely why the Imperium sent the Silent Sisterhood here."
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