On the planet Barbarus, within the southern swamps, lay the village of Mortarion.
It was the third year since Hades had arrived in the south.
The thick fog rolled in, waves of white mist, each tendril cold and biting, trying to suffocate any who dared to traverse its depths. The poisonous miasma was ever-present, a constant threat.
Hades and Mortarion sat amidst the fog. Seeing Hades, who was jesting moments ago, suddenly become serious, Mortarion too grew solemn.
"Death Lord," Hades began.
"Yes?"
"You fight for the people, don't you?"
Hades cautiously glanced at the frail youth leaning against Mortarion. This youth was a representation of the countless rebels who had risen with Mortarion. They had forsaken their past, endured silently in agony, striving to become stronger, to be the unbreakable blade in Mortarion's hand, fighting for humanity's liberation.
But what if Mortarion wasn't truly fighting for humanity's liberation?
Upon hearing Hades's words, Mortarion's gaze sharpened, his amber eyes flickering in the fog, reminiscent of a predator lurking in the shadows.
"I've always done so. Why do you ask this, Hades?"
Hades sighed lightly.
"What if there was a chance, where you'd lose everything you have, but in return, the people would be victorious?"
Why such a question?
Mortarion clenched his fist. Of course, he would choose the people. They had chosen him, and he would not fail them. "I would undoubtedly choose the people. They chose me. They wish to be my blade, and I shall not let them down. Hades, you shouldn't ask such absurd and naive questions."
It was the people who gave Mortarion purpose. He would never abandon those who followed him.
"What if you had to lose everything, including your vengeance against the xenos lord Nakre?"
Before Hades could finish, Mortarion erupted in fury, his massive scythe pointing directly at Hades's throat.
The scythe's wind split the fog, cutting it in half, its force tearing through the mist even a hundred meters away.
Damn, too fast!
Hades barely managed to block with his own scythe, but Mortarion's unique and heavy blade was already at his throat.
Is this the might of a Primarch?
Mortarion, half-kneeling, held his scythe with one hand, while gently placing the young man's head on the ground with the other.
His eyes bore into Hades, cold, suspicious, fearful. Hades was sure he saw a hint of madness in Mortarion's gaze.
Had Hades conspired with the xenos?
"What did my foster father tell you?"
"Nothing. I haven't met Nakre."
Hades tried to sound casual, but the cold sensation on his throat was a constant reminder of the danger he was in.
Mortarion remained silent.
"Why did you say that?"
Why did he ask that? Why did he question Mortarion's intentions? Was he controlled by the xenos? Did he no longer trust Mortarion?
"I wanted to know which is more important in your heart: the plan for humanity or your personal vendetta?"
"Is it your hatred for Nakre that drives you to help humanity, or is it your love for humanity that drives you to resist the xenos?"
Was that all? Was that the only reason he questioned Mortarion?
But Mortarion had never considered this question before.
What would his answer be?
Hades felt Mortarion's scrutinizing gaze, as if trying to dissect him. He could feel his blood pressure rising, his heart racing.
It seemed Mortarion was convinced that Hades had no ill intentions and wasn't under any spell.
With a grunt, Mortarion lowered his scythe, its heavy blade sinking into the mud, sending droplets flying.
"There's no such situation," Mortarion whispered.
"There isn't. The people here are oppressed by the xenos, and these xenos lords will never give up their tyranny. As long as the xenos exist, true peace for humanity will never come. I promised them liberation, and it won't come until the xenos are eradicated."
And that damned creature, that arrogant monster who saw them as cattle, had to be slain.
"Nakre must be killed! I will do it myself, bringing true liberation to humanity!"
Hades watched as Mortarion was consumed by anger and regret.
Yes, if it weren't for the man from the stars, the question Hades asked would never have been relevant. Mortarion would have eventually gathered strength and slain his personal demon.
But Hades knew that man, the Emperor, would come.
When he did, Hades's question would become relevant. It was inevitable.
Just as it was written,
He would come.
He would arrive in a grand, golden vessel, made with the most advanced technology humanity could imagine.
He would descend upon the richest, most fertile lands of Barbarus.
He would walk, with all the elegance one could imagine, healing the first injured person he came across, even if their injuries seemed fatal.
He would be led into the fortress that Mortarion had painstakingly built, seated at the highest place of honor, and the people would gather around him, listening to his tales of distant wonders and ancient dreams.
And Mortarion,
He would return from a failed assault, rushing in panic, hearing of this miraculous arrival.
But the moment he laid eyes on him,
He would know he had lost everything.
He was abandoned by his people.
He was a defeated dog.
"I am your friend," the Emperor would say. "I've come to Barbarus in search of a noble soul, in search of you. You've been away from the Imperium for far too long, my lost kin. It's time to return to our embrace. I promise you glory and riches beyond measure. A new era is dawning."
He would want Mortarion to submit, to leave with him.
But how could Mortarion ever leave?
Barbarus, its people, they were his everything.
But it was clear, this man had already taken it all.
Now, with nothing left but his hatred for Nakre, Mortarion was vulnerable.
He saw it, using Mortarion's hatred and future as a gamble.
But in the battle against Nakre, Mortarion had lost.
Lost completely.
Now, the seeds of betrayal were sown, waiting to sprout.
The anchor of past, present, and future was set.
The Chaos Gods smiled in delight.
Hades looked at Mortarion, seeing the anger towards Nakre, but also the hope and determination for humanity's liberation.
How could he change this predetermined fate?
Thankfully, today's Hades was also trying hard to improve his persuasive abilities, to avoid becoming a rotten can.
*Author's Note:* I've added Mortarion's inner journey. Honestly, when reading Mortarion's biography, I felt that he disliked the Emperor because the Emperor's arrival was too flashy, and Mortarion, in a sense, was a Primarch who wasn't into such grandeur. Hence, he felt overshadowed. I'll add more reasons why Mortarion dislikes the Emperor in the future. (Just exaggerating)