*The Endurance*, Corridor.
Now.
Having just finished his day's training, Hades silently walked through the gray-green corridor, the dull sound of his footsteps echoing in the narrow space.
Usually, he'd be jostled by a few veterans as they walked back to the personal rest area together. But today, Hades chose to end his training early.
Hades wanted some quiet time to ponder the information he'd observed recently.
So, he excused himself to visit the third archive room and left early.
Firstly, Hades was certain he had been "chosen."
Even if the decision-maker hadn't shown themselves, Hades sensed something from the increasing number of veterans surrounding him over the past few months.
While some veterans genuinely wanted to spar with him, others looked at Hades with incredibly complex expressions.
After Hades defeated them and exchanged a few pleasantries, they'd wear a satisfied expression.
But when Hades tried to probe them, they'd feign ignorance.
Hades was left to laugh it off, feigning amiability and innocence.
He was exasperated.
These veterans were terrible actors.
Compared to the stoic management veterans, these battle-hardened soldiers were rather straightforward.
Most of the suggestive veterans were amiable, and Hades mentally categorized them as moderates or neutrals.
Those who charged at him without a word were probably radicals.
Hades touched his nose, recalling that the most brutal beatings came from them.
After months of mingling with the veterans, Hades had a basic understanding of their factions and thoughts.
Most were neutral, pledging loyalty as long as Mortarion proved capable and led them in the Emperor's wars.
Some were moderates, either neutrals who became moderates after deeming Mortarion fit or those swayed by the inherent bond between the Primarch and his sons.
The smallest group were the radicals, prepared to sacrifice themselves in the next battle.
Clearly, someone had intentionally arranged for Hades to interact with these Terran veterans.
And someone else had arranged for Vox to interact with Barbarus recruits from other squads.
At first, Hades thought this was orchestrated by Captain Gallo. But after learning some history of the 7th Squad, he realized Gallo wasn't so ostentatious.
Someone else was pulling the strings behind Gallo.
But that was beyond Hades's current reach.
The person's motive was probably simple. Hades knew what they were thinking.
They were investing in him.
Hades couldn't help but frown. If things were indeed so, he'd have to consult Mortarion again.
But he'd been so engrossed in training lately that he hadn't given Mortarion much thought.
Another concern was that after the incident in the duel cage involving the Think Tank, all information about it had been completely sealed off.
Not a whisper leaked out.
Hades's daily activities didn't overlap with the Think Tank or Calas's 1st Squad, so he couldn't gather information.
He couldn't just run to the Think Tank and offer help, could he?
Especially after he'd previously beaten them up. They'd surely think he was there to cause trouble.
Would the Death Guard really disband the Think Tank in the future?
A sense of powerlessness enveloped Hades.
It seemed he'd have to consult Mortarion about this too.
However, a ticking sound interrupted Hades's thoughts.
Down the empty corridor, a Mechanicum Sage slowly approached.
The crimson robe draped over a hunched figure that seemed on the verge of snapping. Mechanical legs, made of cables, extended from beneath the robe. The Sage adjusted its steps, moving slowly.
Was this one of the Sages from the Martian transport ship?
Alone?
This route could lead to the forge hall, but it was a convoluted path.
Could the Sage have gotten lost? Could a Mechanicum even lose its way?
Their distance closed—
Hades maintained his pace, briskly passing the Sage.
The ticking sound faded.
Perhaps he was overthinking.
Hades continued on his way, deciding to return his book to the third archive room.
He held a copy of "The Annals of Ulrishi." He'd borrowed it a few months ago and hadn't returned it since.
It wasn't his fault. He'd been beaten up daily, which naturally slowed his reading pace.
"The Annals of Ulrishi" recorded the history of the High Gargas region on Terra. It detailed the rise of warlords, the establishment of local councils, wars, games, and—
Witchcraft.
It contained numerous accounts of psykers using witchcraft.
The screaming native wizards, the bloody sacrifices, the shamans whose bodies split open to reveal unspeakable entities.
The book described these blasphemous witchcraft acts in great detail and with an exaggerated flair.
Hades remembered his shock when he first read about the witchcraft in the book.
Wasn't this Chaos?!
Those were daemons, right?!
By the Emperor!!!
As a transmigrant, Hades knew without a doubt that the book described the Chaos of the Warp.
That historian, the one who recommended this book to Hades?
Hades felt a chill.
Although half his head lacked skin.
But Hades suddenly recalled the historian's words when recommending the book,
"While it's a history book, you can read it as fiction. We historians scoff at the fantastical descriptions in it."
Hades initially thought he referred to some form of heroism or fantasy. Was he actually talking about psychic powers?!
Hades was almost at the third archive room.
As expected, the historian wasn't there.