Onboard the Endurance.
In the vast cosmos, the Galaspa Galaxy continued its stable trajectory, with fluctuations of spiritual energy beginning to surge.
The command requested by Hades was transmitted to distant Barbarus, accompanied by the Star Whisperer's low chanting and flickers of spiritual lightning.
Mortarion turned to face Hades, gazing at him in silence.
Hades demanded the immediate suspension of the conscription efforts on Barbarus and requested Calas to remain in his position.
"You've always harbored hostility towards Calas," Mortarion noted.
"Why?"
Hades hesitated, then slowly replied, "Do you recall the prophecy, Mortarion?"
"I've witnessed more than you all."
"I've seen it. Calas is the first of the Fallen Death Guard."
After a moment's silence, Mortarion, with a raspy voice, remarked, "But in that prophecy, it isn't just him."
Taking a deep breath, Hades said, "I apologize. It may seem like a baseless accusation, but now, I need to go to Barbarus to confirm something."
Mortarion paused, lost in memories. Once, there was a time when Hades and Calas didn't get along so well. Mortarion thought they just saw each other as oddities, but had Hades' initial attitude towards Calas been more of caution than distaste? Although, they did have a pleasant time together during the establishment of a new base, believing in the destined liberation of Barbarus and unaware of the existence of a massive human empire.
Later, Hades headed south due to his unique constitution, and Calas also moved south to lead armies. With the legion's management style, the three drifted apart. Even though Calas initially sought him out, after the arena scandal, they lost contact.
Mortarion began recalling and comparing the last memory he had, when Calas came to him, asking to return to Barbarus for conscription. He couldn't find anything amiss with the Calas from his memories.
Frowning, Mortarion asked, "And if Calas is innocent, how will you explain this to him?"
"I'll apologize," Hades said, gazing at a map filled with various routes, his voice raspy and heavy. He hoped he was just being overly cautious.
Meanwhile, on Barbarus.
A lone hawk soared across the murky sky, disappearing into the thick, poisonous clouds.
The dense clouds loomed heavily over vast stretches of barren farmland, signaling an impending downpour. The air was filled with the sour scent of dampness.
With everyone taking shelter from the rain, a lone figure walked the vast, dim land.
Calas trudged along a ridge, dragging his scythe, carving a straight trench in the soft soil. He was initially busy preparing for the new recruits. While Radon had gone to negotiate with the biowise responsible for the gene seeds on the Star Ring, Calas chose to return to the human settlements on Barbarus to recruit. But something happened, causing the plan to be shelved.
And so, he found himself here, avoiding everyone, slowly heading towards the highest peak of Barbarus.
Ascending towards the peak, enveloped by the densest mists, with a rush of blood beneath his skin. Some disturbances occurred far behind him, but they quickly subsided.
A buzzing voice echoed in his ears, "You've returned, my son."
Calas continued his journey, his once-clear mind muddied again.
"Why seek acceptance from those who shun you? Accept the power of the Supreme Sky. Crush those weak humans beneath your feet!"
"My mother was human."
"Silence, monster."
A shrill, mocking laughter broke Calas's patience.
"Oh, that pitiable human woman. If she hadn't been so robust, I would've chosen another. It seems she gave birth to a destined failure. Look, Mortarion, whom you thought was like you, a pet kept by the lords, turns out to be pure gold. Only you, a hybrid of alien and human, a monstrous oddity. No one ever cared about you. You're just a clown always shouting, 'Look at me!' Weakness, your original sin!"
The harsh voice grew faster, the clouds descended, and a thick fog enveloped everything. With a snap, the voice disappeared.
A silhouette emerged from the mist, causing Calas to stagger.
"Mother?" he whispered.
A small, hunched woman stood in a hut, smiling at him. He realized how short his mother was. He sat down, and she gently caressed his armor, just as she did when they hid from the angry villagers.
"You've grown," she said.
He smiled. Calas hadn't died. He hadn't been corroded by the omnipresent poison, stoned to death by the furious villagers, or consumed by his alien father.
Calas was alive. He had won.
"What's wrong? Aren't you happy?" she asked, her dim green eyes twinkling.
"I'm here for conscription in Barbarus. I've become a minor manager in a legion."
"Do people hate you?"
Calas was taken aback but gave a slight shake of his head. "No. It's just... some things happened."
"Tell me about it."
As the weary mother sat down, Calas felt like he was back in that evening when they were chased by the villagers, sitting silently on the edge of the poison mist, shivering from cold and fear. Due to the fear of being discovered, they didn't light the gathered firewood.
"I had some disagreements with a friend. It should've been okay, but some accidents happened."
His mother looked at him patiently. "It's good that Calas has friends. Wherever people are, differences will exist, even among friends."
She placed her shriveled hand on Calas's, which now seemed like a giant's hand after surgeries.
"Maybe you can share His teachings with your friend if the differences become too much."
His?
"Life and death circle in hesitation, despair and greed melt memories, entropy destroys and stalls. Everyone suffers, only He is kind. Your mother knows she can't keep up with you."
Her gentle green eyes looked at him.
"If you could be in His kind embrace, even destruction wouldn't be frightening. And I think your friends would also choose a kind lord. He'll forgive your past mistakes, and you won't have to hurry anymore."
Her gentle eyes froze in a kind stare.
He reached out and held his mother's hand. She looked at him tenderly. Maggots wriggled in the corners of her eyes, and pus flowed.
"I need to go."
Staring at her light green eyes, Calas murmured to himself, "Indeed, I need to make my two friends realize their current mistakes."
The figure before him melted into a puddle as he had his epiphany, but Calas seemed not to notice. He picked up his scythe and continued on his way.