My Life as A Death Guard

After their harrowing escape, the three of them were utterly exhausted. Hades only managed to eat a few mouthfuls of porridge before his fatigue overwhelmed him. Despite his left arm starting to fester, he hastily bandaged it and fell into a deep sleep on his bed.

With the other two watching over him, he had no worries about enemies.

That night, Hades experienced one of the rare instances where he slept without any vigilance.

In his dream, he was painting tiny chess pieces with stinking canned paint, cursing the rising prices of imported goods.

When he awoke, he found his left arm meticulously rebandaged, and beside him lay Typhon, sleeping like a log.

Silently wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth, Hades reassured himself that he couldn’t have been that undignified while asleep… surely not…

He tried to stretch, but his whole body ached, and he nearly cramped up midway, so he stopped.

Slowly, he shuffled to the doorway and saw Mortarion standing like a tall, slender rod, staring into the distant mountains.

He was motionless, only blinking slowly when he sensed Hades approaching, casting an almost imperceptible glance at him.

Except for his eyes, Mortarion remained as still as a statue.

Hades mused to himself that Mortarion was the most influential figure he could currently associate with—perhaps even more so than the Emperor and the entities in the Warp.

He had to seize this opportunity.

Big guy, take me with you!

Imagine if you suddenly traveled back in time and a rogue man stood before you needing a small favor. Recognizing him as the pre-eminent Liu Bang, you’d likely do whatever it took to help him. Once he ascended to power, remembering your help, he might reward you generously. Wouldn’t you enjoy a comfortable life as a minor landlord?

Some might say this lacks dignity, that a true man should forge his own path. But Hades would counter, “Bro, everyone dreams of being the world’s richest. Let’s be realistic and aim for a stable civil service job first.”

He didn’t have the necessary skills to tackle monumental tasks. Why not assist the big shots and live a comfortable life? After all, this was the Warhammer universe, where human destiny was notoriously grim.

Even the Emperor, the epitome of strength, had his struggles. What business did a mere traveler have getting involved?

He wasn’t some grand savior capable of turning the tide. Surviving without getting crushed was already a victory.

And he certainly didn’t want to shout “For the Emperor!” and become cannon fodder for the Imperium. Whether he was there or not, humanity’s fate wouldn’t change—after all, the Imperium had been stagnating for ten thousand years and was still the galaxy’s largest force.

He was a slacker by nature. Changing worlds didn’t suddenly make him a hero.

In his previous world, he had worked his way up to a senior position, saved enough for a small house, and enjoyed a peaceful life collecting figurines. Just when he thought he could coast through life—

He inexplicably ended up here.

Ughhhh!!!

If he had to enter Warhammer, why couldn’t he have landed on Terra, Mars, Macragge, or Calth? Anyplace would have been better than Barbarus!

Worst case, why not become an Ork and live a carefree life? His starting point was barely better than the lowest hive dweller…

And why Mortarion?! This guy was notorious for his complex inner world, famous in 40k for being both stubborn and prideful, making communication nearly impossible.

Of the twenty-one Primarchs, the ones you’d least want to meet were Curze, Mortarion, Perturabo, and Angron!

But Hades reassured himself. The Mortarion he encountered hadn’t yet met the Emperor and was still relatively sane, even righteous.

From his experiences leading the resistance on Barbarus, Mortarion was courageous, intelligent, beloved by his people, and a charismatic leader.

So where did it all go wrong?

Hades had vented his frustrations often since arriving here.

In short, reality was harsh. His immediate goal was simple: improve his survival skills and earn Mortarion’s favor, surviving until the Emperor arrived and he could join the Astartes to extend his lifespan.

The future could be dealt with later.

For now, he had to channel his inner corporate worker and flatter his superior!