Chapter 157: The Lord of Figurines Makes His Grand Entrance!
The arguments and chaos aboard the Iron Blood felt so distant and insignificant.
Hades was sleeping.
The feud between Mortarion and Perturabo, at least for the moment, wasn't enough to disturb Hades' slumber—just like Angron's roars never reached him either.
It had been a long time since Hades slept so soundly, even if… he had the odd sensation he was sleeping sitting upright.
No, it wasn't that the Death Guard were depriving their warriors of sleep, or deliberately forcing them to stay awake.
While the Death Guard were indeed austere and valued endurance, they didn't go as far as to torment Hades like that.
The real reason was this:
All of Hades' accommodations aboard the Death Guard ship were standard-issue.
And what did "standard-issue" mean?
Well… for someone like Hades, who was clearly a size larger than most, it meant that every night he had to sleep with extreme caution.
Otherwise, he'd wake up the next morning and find himself lying on the floor again.
The bed was too small.
And not just the bed—the desks, chairs, even the spoons—
The Primarchs had custom-made furnishings.
He, however, did not.
But Hades never thought this mattered much.
He had simply resigned himself to waking up on the floor every morning.
He'd complained more than once:
"Can't they make adjustable furniture for Space Marines?"
He had even planned to modify the bed himself—but, well, he has no time.
Before he could turn his cozy little corner into something functional…
Here he was.
So… where exactly was he now?
Hades reluctantly pushed himself up from the warm table he'd been using as a pillow.
Ahh, how perfectly that desk matched his size…
He instinctively wiped the drool from the polished surface, eyes half-lidded and groggy—
Only to find himself staring directly into the wise, emerald gaze of a Necron.
"WHAT THE F—?!"
Hades jolted fully awake, springing upright from the chair.
Without a weapon, he instinctively grabbed the chair he'd just been sitting on—which, for the record, had originally been bolted to the floor—and held it in front of him, four legs pointed at the massive Necron across from him.
Sure, it probably wasn't going to help much.
But hey—better some defense than none.
Only after setting up this makeshift defense did Hades take the time to properly observe his surroundings.
A meeting room?
The spacious room was empty aside from the table in front of him, a vase, two chairs, and—well, one Necron.
Some kind of complex, symmetrical patterns were carved into the corners of the room, glowing faintly with a rhythmic, green light—almost as if they were breathing.
Hades finally turned his attention to the only other "living" being in the room—
The Necron was watching him with great interest.
Hades swallowed.
He had a pretty good idea who this was.
This was the Lord of Figurines—Trazyn the Infinite!
A Necron Overlord with an extremely... "Necron-style" personality.
While most other Necron Overlords were either half-mad from too much sleep, or obsessed with war and extermination, Trazyn had a very different hobby:
Using Necron technology, he spent his time collecting all the fascinating and irreplaceable things across the galaxy.
Things like an Ogryn who could count to nine, a Death Guard who loved to bathe, an Ork painted entirely purple, and strands of Horus' hair…
Ahem.
Anyway—Trazyn liked to gather rare, one-of-a-kind items.
Things that couldn't be recreated, that felt alive, that made him feel like he still existed, instead of being just a lifeless skeleton.
Hades realized that this time… he'd become the figurine collector's figurine.
He briefly recalled his own lovingly-painted Daemon Prince Mortarion model, carefully posed on his shelf—
There was no escape.
Being here meant he was already deep inside Trazyn's domain, fully at the mercy of his collector's whims.
Hades' soul left his body.
In a situation like this, he no longer held out hope that anyone would come to rescue him.
He didn't think Mortarion, or Perturabo, or anyone, really, could crack Necron tech and find him here—especially not in the clutches of the Lord of Figurines.
There was no saving him. Time to gather his pride and prepare for life as a display piece in a stasis chamber.
Or… maybe not.
There was still a glimmer of hope.
Trazyn hadn't thrown him straight into stasis. Instead, he was awake, fully conscious, and standing here.
That meant there was still a chance.
Now fully awake and having gathered his thoughts, Hades carefully fixed his gaze on the Lord of Figurines, Trazyn.
This ancient being currently had his chin resting on his hands, clearly entertained by Hades' every move.
And somehow…
Hades could see the amusement in that eerie green glow.
You're really just here to watch the show, huh?
Hades was tempted to fire off a few sarcastic comments, but—well—he knew better than to mouth off while under someone else's roof.
So, having come to terms with the situation, Hades gently placed the chair back down.
He awkwardly slotted its legs back into the holes in the floor, then sat back down like nothing had happened.
He really regretted not wearing his helmet.
Doing his best to keep a composed, professional expression, Hades met Trazyn's gaze.
But the Necron didn't move.
And Hades suddenly hesitated—
Wait. Was this even Trazyn?
He didn't exactly specialize in Necron heraldry—he couldn't tell one dynasty's markings from another's.
He opened his mouth hesitantly.
"Uh… hello?"
The Necron finally stirred.
It touched its chin thoughtfully, staring at Hades like a collector inspecting a priceless artifact.
"Greetings, Hades of the Death Guard, from Barbarus," the figure said.
"Or should I say… Outsider?"
Hades didn't react much.
Being one of the galaxy's most well-informed Necron Overlords, Trazyn knowing a few secrets didn't surprise him.
He simply nodded in acknowledgment.
"I am Trazyn the Infinite, of Solemnace."
Knew it.
Trazyn ignored the brief flicker of change in Hades' expression.
He casually snapped his fingers—and a cup appeared out of thin air, right in front of Hades.
Hades glanced down—
Wait, what the—COKE?!
Black, fizzy liquid, bubbling happily with square ice cubes floating in it.
Hades was hit with a wave of dissonance.
Staring at this incredibly ordinary soda, he was completely speechless.
But… from this gesture alone, Hades could glean something important:
Trazyn didn't see him as an enemy. Not yet.
If he played his cards right—if he talked well enough—he might still escape.
Still, the bubbles rising in that cup sent Hades spiraling into a weird kind of existential crisis:
Where the hell am I? Who even am I right now?
Pleased with the reaction, Trazyn found himself a little less sad about no longer being able to consume food or drink.
This mortal's expressions were delightfully vivid.
"Let us talk,"
Trazyn said, pulling Hades' gaze back from the soda.
Hades blinked.
Alright then.
He'd let the Lord of Figurines take the lead and just go along with it for now.
So Hades looked up and fixed Trazyn with his most sincere and friendly expression.
Hades' reaction made Trazyn pause.
He really hadn't seen such an amusing specimen in a long, long time.
A shame he couldn't pretend to sip tea anymore, that trick used to work wonders in disarming annoying Crypteks.
Trazyn thought for a moment.
He figured this could get even more entertaining. So he opened his mouth and said,
"I'm going to collect you."
Hades, who had just lifted the precious soda for a sip, almost spit it all over the place.
"Cough! Cough cough cough!"
This guy doesn't play by any rules! Hades thought weakly,
Well then—if he was going to play it crazy, Hades would go off-script too.
"C-can I at least ask about the conditions of my collection?"
How interesting!
Trazyn was quite pleased.
And, having all the time in the universe, he replied patiently,
"What kind would you like?"
"Don't worry—I care a lot about my collection. I could place you in a custom Death Guard-style display cell, deck you out in the Imperium's latest power armor, and let you hold that black scythe of yours."
"Thinking of a nice, heroic pose?"
Trazyn asked this casually.
"No, no no no,"
Hades said seriously,
"I don't want that. I want a bed. Big enough for me to roll around twice. Made of 50% polyester and 50% cotton."
Who knows if Necrons can feel touch, but Hades had standards when it came to quality sleep.
"Oh—and I need a blanket and a pillow too."
"If you're going to collect me, I want to be lying down."
"Standing all the time… it's a painful experience."
Trazyn blinked. Then suddenly burst out laughing.
"Hahahahahaha! I really haven't seen someone this fun in ages!"
"And what color should the bed be?" he asked jokingly, the atmosphere now warm and flowing like molten steel.
Hades blinked.
"I don't really care. You decide."
"Alright."
Trazyn agreed cheerfully.
"I didn't expect this. You may not have a soul, but you're quite entertaining," Trazyn said.
Hades stayed composed.
"I may not have a soul. But that doesn't mean I don't have a brain."
Trazyn gave him a sidelong glance and pointed at Hades' right temple.
"You almost didn't have a brain either."
Suddenly, Hades remembered the final scene before blacking out—
AAAHHHH!
He instinctively reached up and touched his right temple—
It was still there!
"I fixed it for you,"
Trazyn said casually.
Forget the brain, reconstructing a whole biological body using Necron technology is child's play.
He even upgraded the guy a little while he was at it.
"Much appreciated."
Hades replied promptly, and then hesitated—
"But… why would you help me? Help an Alien?"
"I'm collecting you, remember?"
Hearing that, Hades slowly took another sip of his soda.
"Funny way to say it, though. If you're gonna collect me, wouldn't it be more convenient to just box me up right now?"
Trazyn let out a nostalgic sigh.
As a Necron, how long had it been since he last heard someone speak with this kind of polite sarcasm?
Ah yes—flesh-and-blood beings were always the masters of this art.
"I'm going to collect you, yes," Trazyn said, staring at Hades.
"But not right now."
Suddenly feeling like it, Trazyn reached out his hand—
A cup of tea appeared in his grasp a second later.
Of course, he couldn't taste it.
Couldn't absorb it.
But that wasn't the point.
Sometimes, you just wanted to do something.
Wasn't that what being alive meant?
Hades, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow.
Not now?
He probed carefully:
"So… I'm not valuable enough yet?"
Trazyn took a fake sip of his tea and replied,
"You could say that."
He was in a good mood, so he decided not to be cryptic.
"Your Untouchable Field hasn't reached its full potential. You can still grow."
"If I collect you now, that growth stops."
Hades considered that.
"But… my Black Domain hasn't been growing for a while now?"
Ever since he left Barbarus, he hadn't felt it change much.
His field was always bound close to his body.
Trazyn rolled his eyes at him.
"That's because the Emperor's been limiting it. Try again—right now."
Cautiously, Hades attempted to extend his Black Domain, and to his surprise, it flowed freely out of his body.
Within moments, the entire room was swallowed in darkness.
Trazyn, of course, was completely unaffected.
He had no soul for the field to bite into.
After experimenting a bit and realizing how controllable it had become, Hades retracted the field.
"Why would the Emperor limit it?"
Hades asked, genuinely puzzled.
"If I'm an Untouchable, shouldn't a bigger field be better?"
Trazyn slowly smacked his lips as if trying to taste his tea.
Nope. Still tasteless.
"Do you even understand your true nature?"
"A mutant Untouchable."
Hades answered confidently.
This time Trazyn nearly spat out his tea.
"No. Not even close!"
"You are an Outsider. A being from another world. A presence that comes from the physical universe."
Hades blinked.
"So...?"
Trazyn didn't wait.
"To this world's Warp, you are a hole. A deep, endless tear. A void that slowly devours all Warp-based existence around you."
"If left unchecked, your presence—the void you represent—will continue expanding."
"Until it consumes everything."
"Everything!"
Trazyn finished like he was slamming a gavel at the end of a courtroom drama.
Hades, stunned by the sudden truth, sat there dazed and silent, his mouth slightly open, no words coming out.
Wait... I'm that powerful?!
Cold sweat broke out on his back.
Suddenly, being restricted made a whole lot of sense.
He didn't want to be some Plaguebringer-like disaster where death followed him everywhere.
But then another thought hit him.
The Emperor and Malcador knew what he was.
Knew his nature.
Even went as far as sealing his Black Domain.
But they never told him?
If they'd told him the truth, at least he could've taken precautions himself!
Hades took another sip of soda to calm himself down.
Realizing what Hades was thinking, Trazyn cut in directly.
"I believe, most likely, that your Emperor didn't think it was important enough to tell you."
"As long as you stayed with the Death Guard and didn't stir up trouble, you'd at least be somewhat useful to his plans."
Hades' eyes went dead-fish mode. He wanted to think it was all some grand conspiracy, but he had too little data—and Trazyn's explanation sounded way too plausible.
Could it be... the Emperor didn't think this was worth mentioning?
While Malcador thought the Emperor had already told him?
Tsk...
"Then why did the Emperor's seal on me fail now?" Hades asked.
"With the kind of lock he used, it shouldn't have ever broken. Not even at death."
"But in a near-death state, you resonated with a large amount of blackstone structures, which exponentially amplified your Black Domain."
Trazyn fixed a sharp gaze on Hades.
"A regular Outsider shouldn't be able to resonate with blackstone like that."
Hades felt the hairs on his neck stand up.
"Because I drank the Void Dragon's blood?!"
Trazyn snapped his fingers.
"Correct."
"But I should clarify—that wasn't blood."
"You really are something."
Trazyn sighed, taking another fake sip of tea.
Truly, this kind of reckless bravery belonged only to mortals.
To fuse an Outsider with a C'tan... it was as bold as it was insane.
Only a lunatic like that so-called "Emperor" would dare to pull something like that off.
Though, in fairness, he probably hadn't understood the deep connection between Star Gods, Outsiders, and blackstone.
That little oversight nearly got Hades killed.
If Trazyn hadn't "just so happened" to be there, the sheer pressure of the unleashed Black Domain would've torn Hades apart.
And yet... the Emperor had only placed a psychic chain on him?
He wasn't worried that this Hades might turn against humanity someday?
Someone who could command machines, destroy the Warp, and vanish into the Materium at will…
If Hades ever wanted to rebel—there'd be no way to find or stop him.
Humanity's detection grid still depended on the Warp.
And in the physical world, once you're far enough away...
You're just a stone dropped in the ocean.
Impossible to track. Impossible to stop.
Thinking of this, Trazyn gave Hades another long, thoughtful look.
Even after hearing such a world-shattering revelation, the guy had already gone back to sipping his soda like nothing happened.
What a fascinating creature.
Trazyn lifted his teacup again, savoring the moment—even if he couldn't taste it.
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