My Life as A Death Guard

Above the Martian port, a myriad of flagships moved in a constant flow, their metallic sheen glimmering under the guiding lights, while the roar of plasma engines echoed ceaselessly.

Amid the countless departing fleets, a smaller vessel ignited its engines, breaking free of Mars’s gravity and heading into the void of space.

Navigational signals from Pluto guided the ship toward the Solar Gate, where the blue and violet brilliance of the Warp’s tides surged and churned.

The vessel adjusted the angle of its auxiliary thrusters and gently entered the pre-established Warp route.

<+>

Planet Sigma-373, Now.

This was a small planet speckled with green and brown, its surface catching the attention of distant observers.

[Atmospheric conditions favorable, no electronic storms detected, minimal ground obstructions—landing possible.]

A crewmember scrutinized the avian drone interface, its imaging of the surrounding area displayed before him.

[Understood.]

[Prepare for landing.]

The exploratory fleet descended slowly onto a vast clearing amidst the forest. Grass and ferns swayed wildly in the turbulence from the engines, while the leaves on towering nearby trees rippled under the gusts.

The fleet, painted jet black and marked with the crimson skull of the Adeptus Mechanicus, with spinning cogwheels emblazoned upon it, touched down.

They had arrived.

Inside his cabin, Hades lay slumbering, resting through the nauseating aftereffects of Warp travel. Every time he traversed the Warp, it left him sick to his stomach. Thus, he chose the simple solution: feigning death through sleep until Korklan completed his preliminary investigation.

Requests had already been sent to a nearby Forge World for transport. Hades planned to rendezvous with the Forge World fleet after finishing his investigation of the planet.

But unbeknownst to anyone, a unique electronic storm was brewing on this world.

Small drones were deployed, buzzing as they collected data from the area and edged closer to a human settlement.

Clad in crimson robes and bearing the insignia of the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Skitarii marched in formation out of the ship’s bay, scouting and securing the surroundings for potential threats.

Binary hymns of the Machine God played in the air, synchronized with the Skitarii’s deliberate steps.

To avoid atmospheric currents and to mitigate any potential interference from the fleet’s instruments on the blackstone obelisk, Korklan had decided to land the fleet in a large forest clearing far from the human city.

Despite the uneven terrain, the atmospheric conditions for landing were textbook-perfect.

A crack echoed as a Skitarii’s boot snapped a dead branch, yet no reverberations returned from the silent forest.

Vines slithered slowly.

Darkness prevailed, yet consciousness lingered.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

Hades stared in disbelief at the middle-aged man standing before him.

The man wore a simple, sharp black priest’s robe, decorated with glowing green geometric patterns, and a monolithic ornament adorned his collar.

His neatly combed white hair and well-trimmed beard exuded order.

“Who are you?” Hades asked.

“I am Bishop Mazel, young man.”

The bishop nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he repeated, speaking bitterly. “I… I’ve doomed everyone.”

Bishop Mazel glared at Hades, and in his gaze, Hades saw a spark of anger.

The bishop seemed on the verge of saying more. His clenched teeth and exhausted demeanor stood in stark contrast to his immaculate attire.

But in the end, he said only one thing.

“Forget it… No one can escape.”

“Young one, if you still have a conscience,”

“Help me kill her.”

The bishop’s deep blue eyes locked onto Hades.

“This is the debt you owe us. The debt you owe everyone.”

Hades’s eyes snapped open.

The man’s figure faded, and his mind was blank as the dream dissolved.

“Do Astartes dream?” Hades wondered absently.

Still, this dream had interrupted his sleep, and he sat on the bed, dazed.

That dream… It was strange.

He doomed everyone?

Who did Hades owe?

And who was “she”?

“Lord Hades, the initial investigation results from Priest Korklan are ready. Please proceed to meet the Priest immediately.”

“Lord Hades? Lord Hades!!!”

“Get up! No more sleeping, Hades!!!”

The loud shouting from outside broke Hades out of his stupor.

“Alright, alright! I’m coming!”

Hades hurriedly got up. No matter what, he’d only be staying a month at most before meeting up with the Forge World fleet.

How could he have a nightmare the moment he arrived?

Hades shook his head. “If anything feels wrong, I’ll just leave early,” he reassured himself.

<+>

Death Guard, The Endurance, Unknown

“You’re saying the fleet Hades is aboard has lost contact?”

Mortarion drummed his fingers against the table unconsciously, the rhythm betraying his irritation.

A brief loss of communication with a vessel wasn’t unusual.

Regional Warp storms or stellar activity could easily cause such disruptions.

But time was running short.

The entire Death Guard fleet was busy undergoing pre-battle preparations—fortifying defenses, modifying engines, and performing tasks with meticulous care, all on Mortarion’s orders.

The Death Guard waited, poised above their prey.

The defenses of the Galaspar system, vast and imposing, slumbered like giants.

As they drew closer to the Galaspar system, Typhon began hearing strange voices.

Unease flickered across his face. His instincts told him this was a psychic issue.

But the events of the past had already alienated him from the Death Guard’s Librarium and their Undertakers sorcerers.

Left with no choice, Typhon sought another solution. He ventured into the Death Guard’s restricted zone for Untouchables—soulless pariahs.

Though untrained, the pariahs’ presence weakened the whispers plaguing his mind.

It was an unpleasant experience, but the daily psychic murmurs had left Typhon’s mental state frayed.

Perhaps if Hades were here, he could have helped, Typhon thought reluctantly.

Sitting in a dim corner of the Untouchables’ barracks, Typhon waited for his fate to unfold.