Chapter 366: Tzeentch Always Has a Plan
Aboard the Imperator Somnium, in a hidden corner that no one could possibly find, there came a loud, explosive sound—
The sound of a lunchbox being opened.
Looking utterly bored, Hades silently picked up his spoon, preparing to eat.
To help the Emperor "hold the stage," he had gone nine days and nine nights without food or drink. While this didn't actually affect him in any practical sense, deep down Hades still deeply regretted wasting nine days of free meals.
He was determined to eat it back.
Malcador, on the other hand, had also gone nine days and nine nights without eating. Given the old man's frail build, Hades had been half afraid Malcador might collapse right in front of him and try to pin the blame on him.
Hades finished today's meal quickly. He held the spoon between his teeth, propping his cheek with one hand as he stared at the figure opposite him—after all, this was precisely why he was here.
Layer upon layer of runes were carved into the iron bars. Blackstone chains wound around them in tight coils, faintly resonating with Hades' Black Domain. Outside the chamber, countless blanks stood in formation, standing guard.
Wild hair jutted out in disarray. The tall horn-like decorations that once crowned his armor had been brutally snapped off, leaving jagged, broken stumps behind. Magnus had once ranked among the top three most massive and towering of the Primarchs—only Vulkan could truly rival him.
But now, after merely nine days and nine nights, plus three additional days of imprisonment aboard the Imperator Somnium, Magnus had already withered into a husk. He looked like a dried, cracked fish, barely clinging to life—so thin he was starting to resemble Mortarion.
Well… maybe even if Magnus were reduced to nothing but skin and bone, he still wouldn't be as thin as Mortarion.
Hades stared at Magnus in boredom. At present, he occupied the role of something like a jailer, and he wasn't worried about Magnus seeing how casual he was. A strip of white cloth had been simply tied over Magnus's eyes, and from where his single eye had once been, dried trails of blood had run down his face.
And Magnus very clearly hadn't touched psychic power since being disciplined by the Emperor, so Hades wasn't worried about him using sorcery to probe his surroundings either.
Next, the Emperor would take the Death Guard and the Space Wolves to Prospero, to determine just how far Tzeentch's corruption had spread.
Hades and Magnus would also travel aboard the Imperator Somnium, but Hades would go as Magnus's warden, not as one of the burners of Prospero. His duty was to ensure Magnus didn't suddenly try anything clever.
Although the Emperor had verbally promised Hades that Malcador would rotate shifts with him, it was painfully obvious that Malcador intended to dump this entire work cycle on him. The old man had looked at him vaguely and said,
"You could try talking to him."
Hades blinked innocently and spread his hands.
"I generally don't talk to dead people."
Malcador immediately slammed his staff down hard—but the point of impact was Hades's armored boot. Hades hastily jumped aside, having no idea what he'd said wrong this time.
Grinding his teeth, Malcador said, "Magnus still has his uses. That is why our lord spared his life."
Hades swallowed.
"So you're planning to stuff him into the—uh—I mean, onto the Golden Throne as a deluxe-sized power bank?"
Malcador frowned. Hades couldn't help feeling that the old man was oddly biased in Magnus's favor. Was it because they both had "Ma—" in their names? Or because they were both psykers?
As if knowing that whenever Hades fell silent he was definitely thinking something inappropriate, Malcador spoke up at once, cutting off Hades's free-associative train of thought.
"You are oversimplifying things, Hades." Malcador said quietly,
"We are not the same as you—I mean psykers are not the same as you. You analyze problems purely through logic and reality."
Hades blinked.
"Uh… so psykers don't use their brains to analyze problems?"
Malcador went in with a strike of his staff. This time, Hades finally shut his mouth completely. With that accomplished, the Regent was at last able to continue his line of thought, explaining psykers to one of the galaxy's most exemplary psychic illiterates.
"Our lord, myself, and other accomplished psykers do not observe reality through logic alone," Malcador said. "This world possesses the Warp. By reading its ripples, psykers can judge what is yet to come—and this is often far more precise than reasoning based solely on material causality."
Hades looked at Malcador with indifference. To him, this sounded no different from palm reading or fortune-telling. Still, given that it actually worked, Hades decided not to provoke Malcador further.
"So what did your deductions come to?" Hades asked.
"I recall… Magnus bound his soul with…"
His voice trailed off, words growing indistinct.
"Yes," Malcador said calmly.
"He made a bargain with the malice beyond the veil—offering up a portion of his own soul."
Hades fell silent. He looked at Malcador and said, "Then shouldn't that mean…"
He drew an invisible line across his own throat.
Malcador frowned.
"But that also means a very large part of his soul remains under his own control."
"Can't you just separate it?" Hades asked, as if posing a foolishly simple question.
Malcador's voice abruptly rose in volume, like a parrot finally snapping after prolonged restraint.
"Do you think psychic power is that simple?! He bargained with the Changer of Ways. Our lord can only ensure that Magnus does not suddenly erupt into catastrophe."
And so the conversation returned to its starting point.
Hades blinked, then spoke again.
"Then can't you just kill him?"
Hades could feel the old man nearing convulsions with rage, and hurriedly added, "I just want to understand why you're taking such a huge risk keeping him alive. What makes you insist on preserving a bomb that could explode at any moment?"
Malcador opened his mouth, intending to speak—but in the end, exhaustion overtook him.
He said weakly, "My lord is gambling."
"…What?" Hades said.
Malcador had no choice but to explain this grim reality.
"Magnus's fate is not fixed. Even though he has already been bound to a single vessel, the river ahead still branches endlessly. Other possibilities remain. And in those futures where humanity is victorious, Magnus is indispensable—at least, in my lord's visions, the Crimson Sinner is never absent."
Hades drew in a slow breath.
"I understand," he said.
"In other words, that thing hasn't fully locked Magnus's fate on purpose. It wants the Emperor to… uh, play a game with it? Or rather, it turned Magnus into a revolver, loaded a few bullets, and now the Emperor and it are taking turns pulling the trigger?"
Malcador nodded.
"A crude metaphor—but you've grasped the essence."
Hades spoke abruptly.
"I mean—then can I use the null field to divert or cut off this stretch of the river?"
Malcador shook his head.
"This is the main channel of all human destiny. Perhaps a future version of you might manage it… but for now…"
Malcador looked Hades over carefully.
"You'd be better off capturing a few more unfortunate Forge Worlds and have them praying to yourself."
Hades spread his hands. In his view, Jin and Korklan were already terrifying enough.
"And you're not afraid it'll trip you up?" he said.
"It controls part of Magnus's soul, and this whole setup was arranged by it in the first place."
Malcador was silent for a long time. At last, the old man spoke slowly, weariness heavy in his voice.
"That also means that Magnus still commands the greater part of his soul. He can still struggle."
"And… its power still cannot alter a tide that has already begun to flow. My lord is watching the course of the river as well. If he lacked confidence in victory, he would not proceed."
Malcador let out a sigh.
"Hades, you may set your mind at ease. My lord will never trust it. Even if he moves in accordance with prophecy, he will employ coercive measures to imprison and confine Magnus. Magnus will never be granted freedom. You need not worry so much."
Malcador paused.
"The Master of Mankind has made his decision. He will proceed with this gamble."
The old man looked at Hades with a somber expression.
"If you truly are concerned, Hades, then guard Magnus on my behalf. Admonish him more often. Perhaps you can ensure that when we are forced to act, his struggle will not be quite so violent."
"Time is short… you are only permitted to watch over Magnus during the period in which Prospero is being purged."
Hades opened his mouth. See? This was top-tier psychological manipulation. In the end, he'd taken over Malcador's workload—and Malcador even made it sound like he should be grateful for the opportunity.
Seeing Malcador about to leave, Hades hurriedly spoke up.
"One last question. How is the Emperor?"
Malcador's departing figure paused for a moment.
"Bad," he said.
"But he's used to it."
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