Chapter 232: Uninvited Guest: The Alpha Legion Primarch
[An Adeptus Astartes was found aboard Rangda's vessel?]
[Yes, he was unconscious. We cannot rule out the possibility that he was under Rangda's control.]
[Which Legion?]
[…]
The channel from Garro's side fell silent. After a while, a hesitant voice replied:
[I'm not sure. He's wearing Mk II armor, but there's no recognizable Legion insignia on it.]
Hades paused in thought.
[Detain him for now. Once the fighting eases, bring him to me.]
[And Garro… do not let him cause trouble. If he's easier to manage while unconscious, keep him that way.]
. . . . . . . .
Garro stood silently in front of the command room of the Reaper's Scythe. Dried blood stained his armor, and unidentifiable fragments of organic tissue clung to its surface in a mottled mess.
Behind the battle captain stood Antaeus, who was not so much accompanying the mysterious Astartes as escorting him under guard.
"Come in."
Hades's voice came from beyond the door. A servitor opened it for them. The figure inside stood with his back to them, bathed in the glow of flickering lumens.
The unfamiliar Astartes hesitated for a moment, but followed them inside without concern.
Across the massive display screen, streams of data scrolled at overwhelming speed. Garro was startled to find that he couldn't keep up with the flood of information.
Hades raised his hand to signal wait, still fully focused on the screen.
"Just a moment."
From the map, Garro knew Hades was commanding no fewer than three battlefronts simultaneously. Without a word, he signaled Antaeus to keep the mysterious Astartes at the rear.
This unknown warrior, whom Garro did not recognize, had awoken just as their vessel approached the Reaper's Scythe.
What unsettled Garro most was the absence of any signs of psychic tampering or control from the Rangda.
Garro had tried to question him, but the battle-brother refused to speak plainly, deflecting with vague and ambiguous words.
"Tell me about your commander."
A whisper, soft as the wind, came from the mysterious warrior. Garro frowned, watching him with suspicion.
It seemed he was attempting to speak with Antaeus.
Antaeus looked nervously at Garro, clearly hoping for guidance.
"I suggest you remain silent, battle-brother."
"You may call me Alpharius."
"Very well, Alpharius. Remain silent."
Alpharius obeyed, though his eyes wandered curiously across the command chamber of the Reaper's Scythe.
"Another serious Legion," he eventually remarked.
"You're even more serious than most. No reliefs to celebrate your achievements, no tapestries to record your history. You do not laugh. You do not indulge in anything you deem frivolous."
Garro's frown deepened. "If you are truly a Space Marine, you ought to show proper respect toward other Legions."
"Apologies. My curiosity gets the better of me."
Alpharius replied offhandedly.
"The last Legion I saw was serious because of pride. But you… not even basic ornamentation on your ships. Your austerity can't stem from pride."
"Is it fear?"
Garro's pupils narrowed slightly. His hand drifted toward the hilt of his combat blade—
"Enough."
Hades turned at last, his expression shadowed and unreadable.
"This is the Death Guard's ship. As long as you're aboard, battle-brother, I suggest you keep opinions like that to yourself."
Hades's thoughts churned behind his calm demeanor.
Why now, of all times, do we encounter Alpharius?
During the Rangda Campaign, there had indeed been sightings of the 20th Legion. Alpharius had approached Lion El'Jonson, hoping to take on the burden of Rangda's sacrifice in the First Legion's stead, to help the Lion's bid for Warmaster.
But the Lion knew the Rangda had to fall to the First Legion. Alpharius's troops were instead dispatched to fringe battlefields, engaged in token conflicts.
So, the fact that Alpharius was captured by Rangda wasn't impossible.
But given that this was Alpharius, Hades immediately doubled his vigilance.
Alpharius. GW's ultimate plot device. The Imperial enigma.
The 20th Legion has always been defined as "the Legion that doesn't exist," fulfilling the role of Imperial covert operatives.
The 20th Legion—Alpha Legion—was led by the primarchs Alpharius and Omegon. Within the Legion, every warrior shared the same face, height, and even name as the primarch.
Yes, in the Alpha Legion, everyone was Alpharius.
This allowed them to confuse outsiders and made it easier for their primarch to disguise himself as a common soldier.
Each regular warrior could also, to some extent, become the primarch—by inheriting fragments of his memory, mindset, and intellect.
The Alphariuses had performed many confusing and outrageous acts: assassinating Custodians to test security, supporting the Lion's bid for Warmaster, attempting to kill Guilliman, and sabotaging the Corvus Corax super-soldier project.
The theory Hades most agreed with was this: because the Alpha Legion promoted independent thinking, the Legion had long since fractured internally. This explained their erratic and often contradictory actions.
But the one thing Hades was absolutely sure of was that they were liars, and they were terrifyingly dangerous.
The moment they entered the room, Hades had already tested him with a diluted burst of the Black Domain.
This one was not the real primarch.
"What should I call you?"
"My lord, call me Alpharius."
"Fine, Alpharius. Were you brought here against your will, or did you come willingly?"
"That is not important, my lord."
Garro swore this was the first time he had seen Hades so cold, so grim.
Bathed in backlight, the commander stared directly at Alpharius—like something more than human.
A chilling, solemn atmosphere swept through the room.
"Then why are you here, Alpharius?"
"I hope you won't test what little patience I have left. The Death Guard are still fighting. If you're just stalling, you will pay for every drop of our blood spilled."
It's a lie—Hades no longer needed to directly command the battles; he'd already delegated authority. But with this kind of visitor, he felt it necessary to keep a close watch.
When facing liars and riddlers, Hades saw no need for diplomacy.
Alpharius bowed. "My lord, I came here because I wanted to see you and Lord Mortarion with my own eyes."
"I'll give you one more chance."
Hades reached for the Execution at his waist.
"You've changed the Death Guard."
Hades froze, his brow deeply furrowed.
"Mind your words."
"Garro, take Antaeus and leave. Everyone else—activate your silence protocols."
Garro gave Hades a long look but said nothing, exiting in silence.
Antaeus, meanwhile, stared at Alpharius in disbelief.
Was he trying to sow division? Was there truly someone so arrogant and foolish?
Perhaps the only Death Guard who didn't believe Hades had changed the Legion was Hades himself.
As for the rest, everyone could see the daily reality under his command. Who could truly hate Hades, when the Death Guard had never been in a better state?
They had ample ammunition, Forge units that actually served their needs, a more efficient command structure, and advanced weapons (even if some of them glowed an eerie green, but after field testing, most agreed it was a non-issue).
And Hades's loyalty to the Death Guard was beyond question. No one from Barbarus had worked harder or more reliably than him.
It's so much so that Hades's deeds were used in training lectures to inspire the next generation of recruits.
Once Garro and the others had left, Hades looked directly at Alpharius.
"What exactly do you want? Let me be clear—I hate riddlers."
At the same time, Hades released his Black Domain. In the center of the room, the commander—now shrouded in shadow and backlight—seemed to distort, becoming almost inhuman. A wave of nausea surged forth. Alpharius could no longer even look at him directly.
"I'm here to help you and the Death Guard."
Heh. Hades let out a dry chuckle.
The last riddler who said he was here to "help" had pierced one of his hearts.
The memory almost made him smile.
"And then what? What do you want? What do you expect from the Death Guard?"
"Let me be clear, I'm not above making a report of how we found the corpse of another Legion's Astartes aboard the Rangda's fleet."
"You seem quite familiar with me… and even with my Legion."
"From the moment you met me, you haven't shown the slightest curiosity about my Legion—that's something I've never encountered before. Unless… you already know us."
Hades raised an eyebrow. "You're crossing a line."
But Alpharius continued, his voice echoing softly in the chamber.
"But please—do not go any further. Those two Legions are not meant to be observe—"
"I never intended to," Hades cut him off bluntly. "The Death Guard do not poke at forbidden topics."
"Compared to your kind, the Death Guard lacks one thing above all else—useless curiosity."
So that was it.
Was he here to warn the Death Guard not to investigate the missing Legions during the Rangda campaign?
Alpharius visibly flinched at the sudden interruption—his eyelid twitched slightly.
"If you came to warn us, then I thank you for the sentiment," Hades said flatly. "But if that's all, then please leave. The Death Guard will escort you back to your Legion."
As he spoke, Hades gestured slightly, clearly preparing to remove Alpharius from the premises.
But Alpharius quickly spoke up, "I still need to meet with Lord Mortarion."
Hades looked at him, amusement flickering in his gaze.
"Whatever you have to say, you can tell me. The Primarch is on another front, and communication is… unadvisable."
. . . . . . .
No, this is wrong.
The wise become arrogant. He thinks he can substitute for a Primarch? No, no, no…
His actions have already stirred the greater gameboard.
Unlike the other Legions, the Death Guard clearly knew too much.
And that knowledge had been spread by the very soldier standing before Alpharius now.
Mortarion might be arrogant—but his function, his role—was crucial.
He needed to be reminded of that.
[Mortarion must stand in his rightful place. Or the void will remain unfilled.]
Alpharius outwardly appeared shaken, but inwardly, he studied Hades—this petty officer drunk on borrowed authority. It was part of the plan. All part of the act.
But suddenly, as if fed up with riddles—or maybe just growing tired of the entire charade—something twisted in Hades's mind. A flash of dark humor surfaced.
Screw it, he thought. No one else can hear anyway.
He'd had it with riddlers. Really, truly had it.
If diplomacy didn't work—might as well troll the troll.
Would Alpharius really have anything serious to say to Mortarion? When had he ever offered real help to another Legion?
And if he really wanted to speak with Mortarion, shouldn't he have sent a primarch?
A lone foot soldier? Who's he trying to fool?
A smile crept across Hades's lips. He lowered his voice conspiratorially.
"I know, I know. This is all part of the plan."
"You're Alpharius… and I'm Alpharius. Long live the Alpha Legion."
He watched in satisfaction as the Alpharius in front of him finally broke.
The poor bastard's pupils dilated. He stared at Hades, face flushing red, stammering incoherently.
Cries of "Impossible!" and "Alpha Legion!?" tumbled from his mouth in disbelief.
Hades yawned theatrically.
[Garro, Antaeus. Come in. Escort our guest out.]
"There's nothing more left for me to talk about, brother. Give the Death Guard a location—we'll wipe your memory and send you there."
With a wave of his hand, Hades dismissed him. Garro and Antaeus entered, and, as expected, saw the cracked composure of Alpharius.
The two men exchanged a knowing glance, then half-dragged, half-carried him away.
Hades blinked, turned his back, and calmly returned to commanding the battlefield.
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Note: Achievement acquired, [We are all Alpharius]^^
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