Hades, cradling his blaster, walked amidst the large troop.
With the experience from their last journey and the Ecclesiarchy soldiers clearing the path even more for the larger scientific equipment, their pace was noticeably faster.
They soon passed the village they had visited last time, heading towards the city.
The dense forest was silent. The animals here seemed not to make much noise. Apart from the Ecclesiarchy soldiers continuously playing the mechanical hymns from the servo-skulls in a 360-degree radius, no other sound was present.
Soon, the first building appeared before them.
It was a simple church, primarily colored in black, with sleek green lines outlining it.
Hades entered, looking around.
There were scriptures carved on the stone pulpit. Hades quickly translated the content:
*"The blessings of God are vast, protecting the land and its people."*
*"Selfless deity, guard our eternal endeavors, keep us away from the chaos of disorder."*
*"Endure..."*
The rest was scratched out, likely by some blade, making it unreadable.
But Hades could guess—it was probably some cliché urging the faithful to donate and contribute.
Ever since Hades assumed that the religion here worshipped the obelisk of the space necron, his curiosity about these strange religious practices waned.
He wondered why the people here chose to worship a device left behind by aliens.
Yet, Hades looked up to the center of the church, where a lifelike statue of a god, entwined in vines and shedding tears, stood.
Sunlight poured through the vibrant stained glass, casting a radiant veil on the pitch-black statue.
The tear at the corner of the god's eye seemed ready to fall, as if sighing at the ignorance of mortals.
Its outstretched arm seemed to be reaching out to save its children.
If a Blood Angel or a Son of the Emperor were here, they would marvel at this civilization's religious artistry and lament the loss of its artisans.
But standing here was Hades, a rustic farmer from Barbarus, the top engineering student from Mars.
Hades glanced at the statue.
That's not what a necron looks like!
Moving on.
A white-haired woman stood silently at the altar, silently gazing at the figure opposite her.
Colored light bathed her, casting a chaotic halo around her.
The bishop opposite her stood against the light, shrouded in darkness.
"Come back, child," Bishop Mazer began with a sigh, "You are the first holy child in the prophecy, able to walk in the realm of gods without punishment."
"It's all lies," Rebo retorted, "You worship a device that harms human souls, letting everyone perish under its harmful aura."
"Is it hard to accept reality? Clinging to ancient, nonsensical rumors to uphold your status?"
"Child, you're young, you can't understand all this," the bishop replied, "All humans are sinful, consumed by desires. But God chose to forgive. Our ancestors arrived on Noah's Ark, living under the protection of the divine realm. Don't be stubborn with your desires, child."
"Empty words," Rebo coldly responded, "You can't even explain this so-called divine realm. You deceive people with the guise of religion, making everyone suffer!"
"Ignorance, absurdity!"
Seeing the bishop merely quoting scriptures in response, Rebo realized arguing was futile. "I will reveal the truth to you, showing that your religion is nothing but a lie!"
After saying her piece, Rebo turned and left, soon to be escorted away by her waiting companions.
Bishop Mazer stood still, his eyes filled with regret and hesitation.
"My child, if you truly reveal the truth to us... I would... choose your path."
The high-standing bishop descended from the pulpit, sitting dejectedly on the wooden benches below.
The statue of the god in the church looked down at its follower.
Didn't he too want to know the truth? If God loved humanity, why did He let them suffer generation after generation? The evidence the child presented was increasingly detailed. The so-called "High Heaven" existed, and humans existed elsewhere, their souls and spirits taking different forms.
And the divine realm? It actually harmed human souls and spirits.
Mazer silently took out his obelisk-shaped necklace, pressing it to his forehead.
God, forgive my transgressions.
He let them go.
However, what Mazer didn't know was that the truth often comes with calamity.
On the *Endurance*.
Calas sat in his personal rest room, meditating.
This should have been a calming meditation, but he felt unusually agitated.
You should go see Mortarion, you know, Calas.
Initially, it was an agreement between the three of you, but the two of them abandoned you.
"No," Calas muttered.
Mortarion had distanced himself from them, even back on Barbarus.
Calas had always tried to catch up with Mortarion, but Mortarion was too fast.
He was naturally God's favorite.
There were no tales of the three of them being freaks. Some just stood out too much, making them misfits.
Realizing he couldn't surpass or even stand beside Mortarion, Calas was disheartened for a long time.
But when the Imperium arrived and Calas learned of Mortarion's true identity, he felt relieved.
Yes, that's it. Everything made sense.
Calas thought darkly that even if he couldn't catch up with Mortarion, at least Hades was on the same level as him.
Another monster, different from Calas.
Calas knew he was a descendant of xenos and humans, hence the discrimination.
But apart from his identity, everyone acknowledged his abilities.
Calas had successfully become the leader of a main force on Barbarus.
And Hades?
He was still ostracized, like a lost soul wandering the wasteland.
Whenever Calas felt inferior to Mortarion, he would sneak a glance at Hades.
Something in his dark heart found solace.
He knew it wasn't right.
But he couldn't stop his thoughts from sliding into chaos.
Later, Calas realized he was wrong.
The agile figure in the dueling cage, the powerful blows.
It turned out he was always the last one.
Ha.
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