Chapter 3: Chapter 3: A Fate Not Yet Sealed
Hades clutched his dagger, awakening amidst the jolts and cries of the imprisoned.
Shaking off the dizziness, his consciousness sharpened.
Moments ago, he had fainted from exhaustion.
The transport imprisoning them trudged on. Judging by the incline, Hades deduced they were ascending a mountain—reaching mid-altitude.
The night on Barbarus had ended, and the puppet-slave hunters were transporting them to the xenos lord's fortress atop the mountain.
Gritting his teeth, Hades crawled within their sealed cage, tapping the floor, searching for its weakest point.
Yes, he intended to escape. Even if hope seemed absent, even if the odds were stacked against him, as long as Hades drew breath, he would never submit.
Never.
Even if captured, he'd struggle with every limb; if those limbs were broken, he'd bite his enemies; and if his teeth were shattered, he'd glare defiantly, spitting blood to show his unyielding spirit.
The chance to escape was now or never. If they continued to ascend, the toxic gases of Barbarus would become more lethal. Their makeshift masks would fail, and they'd suffocate within minutes.
Lacking knowledge of the terrain, Hades decided to break the cage first and improvise from there.
In the confined space, amidst the cries of despair, Hades, focusing intently, found the cage's weakest point.
At last, he found it.
Pushing aside an elderly woman (who looked old but might've been in her thirties), he began to chisel at the floor. The long exposure to the toxic environment had weakened it, and soon he carved a small hole.
More potent gas seeped in, but Hades saw a glimmer of hope.
Yet, it wasn't enough.
He continued to chisel fervently. As he did, the cries in the wagon ceased. The villagers, who had spent their lives in fear, stared blankly at Hades's actions.
They realized—it was time to fight.
A lean, rugged young man emerged from the crowd, wearing tattered clothes and a cunning look.
Kneeling beside Hades, he patted his shoulder. "Let me help."
Surprised, Hades turned to him, noting the man's empty hands. "You don't even have a knife. How do you plan to help?"
The young man hesitated, then whispered, "I'm a psyker."
Hades's mind raced. A living, adult, and sane psyker on Barbarus was almost unheard of.
A realization struck him. "Are you Typhon? Calas Typhon?!"
The man nodded bitterly, "So, even now, you despise me, the freak?"
Hades shook his head, looking intently at Typhon. "No, I trust you. Let's escape together."
"I just... didn't expect to meet you here," Hades carefully chose his words, not wanting to offend Typhon, a pivotal character in the Warhammer lore. Moreover, he needed Typhon's psychic abilities to escape.
Calas Typhon, who was he? The true leader of the 14th Legion (well, not really), the first captain of the Death Guard, Mortarion's once-close friend, and a treacherous traitor. Born of a xenos father and a human mother, he was a psyker. His claim to fame was single-handedly betraying the entire Death Guard.
In the original lore, Typhon was Mortarion's friend on Barbarus. Inspired by him, Mortarion escaped his xenos stepfather's clutches and reached the human settlements below. Together, they formed a resistance (mostly Mortarion's doing). Typhon was Mortarion's guide in the human world.
Mortarion was overly indulgent with Typhon, which led to Typhon's eventual betrayal. The naive Mortarion was sacrificed by Typhon, a tragic day of betrayal.
Typhon's presence here meant one thing: Mortarion's arrival was imminent. Hades might just survive this ordeal!
But for now, survival was the priority.
Hades made room for Typhon to unleash his psychic might.
Typhon's hands glowed with an eerie white light.
Suddenly, the light dimmed. "This isn't right. My connection to the warp feels weakened," Typhon murmured.
Hades stared, thinking, *Can you do this or not?*
Unbeknownst to them, Hades's unique, untouchable-like nature was blocking Typhon's warp connection. This trait of Hades's would grow with him. For now, it merely weakened the warp connection, but in the future, it could be lethal to psykers.
Hades's nature made him an outcast, despised by all, even machines. Rumors said that untouchables could control their nature through meditation, but that remained unconfirmed.
Hades watched as Typhon gathered his strength. With a shout, Typhon unleashed a blinding explosion, toppling the transport. They tumbled into a ravine.
When the light faded, a gaping hole was evident in the floor.
Toxic gas rushed in. Typhon, the first to emerge, helped Hades out.
Surveying the surroundings, they were on a mountainside. Apart from a looming fortress, there were only rocks and dead grass. The transport's guards were scrambling towards them.
In the distance, a fortress stood, its walls oppressive in the mist. Atop the walls, a gaunt figure stood—Mortarion.
Hades's untouchable nature was a mix of official lore and personal interpretation. In the Warhammer universe, untouchables were generally despised, even by machines. They could potentially control their nature, but that was speculative.
The protagonist's golden trait was a similar untouchable nature.
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