My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 500: A Brief Discussion
Inside a private lounge aboard the Endurance, Malcador sat alone after the meeting had concluded.
He coughed several times, the hand adorned with gemstone bracelets trembling slightly.
"How did the negotiations go?"
A hazy giant silhouette emerged behind the old man.
"...He agreed."
"And the price?"
"A portion of my psychic power."
"..."
Malcador raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mortarion.
"That's all?"
"That's all."
"Fine. I understand."
Malcador waved a hand, signaling Mortarion to leave.
The figure shrouded in mist said nothing further and simply faded away.
Malcador settled back onto the couch with difficulty, taking a moment to rest.
He raised a hand.
The door to his private quarters opened.
"You don't look well," a synthetic voice sounded from the doorway.
Malcador coughed again.
"Exactly as expected."
Trazyn walked in naturally and took a seat beside him.
The door closed once more.
"Thank you..." Malcador said quietly.
"For your concern for the Imperium."
Trazyn laughed.
"Humanity is a remarkably interesting species."
"I'm glad I woke up."
Beneath the candlelight, something flickered in Malcador's eyes.
"I don't think your kind are a species interested in conquest."
Trazyn's hand paused midway toward his teacup.
The Necron Overlord turned to look at Malcador.
"Not anymore," Trazyn replied.
"There's no need."
Malcador gave a slight nod.
"My apologies for the presumption."
Trazyn shrugged in an oddly human manner and let the subject drop.
Then, from beneath his Mechanicus robes, a miniature Death Guard tumbled out.
Trazyn began absentmindedly playing with it.
Malcador silently watched.
"What do you think of Mortarion?"
"Being with an enormous potential."
Trazyn rubbed the little Death Guard's helmet.
The tiny figure immediately passed out and collapsed across the Necron's lap.
"To awaken one's Warp nature without losing one's original personality..."
He glanced at Malcador.
"Your ambitions are considerable."
Malcador closed his eyes.
"Humanity is a psychic species. In the end, we can never become entirely—"
"—A physical species."
Trazyn finished the sentence.
"We are an anomaly," the Necron spoke calmly.
"Another possible ending from the distant past. A future where souls were abandoned completely and the Warp was left behind forever."
He continued stroking the little Death Guard's armor.
"Back then, there was no Nurgle, no Tzeentch, none of the others."
"The Warp was far calmer than it is now."
"Times have changed."
Malcador lifted his teacup and took a sip.
"The age is different."
"As time passes, the power of the Four Gods continues to grow," Trazyn spoke casually.
"They claim to exist beyond time and space."
"Utter nonsense."
He chuckled.
"Could they have reached the scale of the War in Heaven?"
Malcador watched him silently.
Meanwhile, the talkative Necron continued.
"There are two critical turning points."
The former Remembrancer of the stars raised a finger.
"The fall of the Aeldari Empire—Slaanesh awakened."
A second finger.
"And then the rise and expansion of the Imperium of Man."
"Before humanity, no Warp-connected species had ever reached such a scale."
"The birth, growth, and collapse of psychic civilizations feed power into the Warp."
"And on the physical side..."
His eyes glowed faintly green.
"The imprisonment of certain entities weakens the material universe."
Trazyn picked up his tea and took a sip.
"The Warp cannot be allowed to continue expanding."
Malcador stared at him.
"Is that the position of your people?"
Trazyn laughed.
"No."
"That is my position."
"The fools among my kind are still sleeping in their tombs."
"They can't even be bothered to wake up and look at how fascinating the universe has become."
He paused.
"Though perhaps I'm the strange one."
Trazyn picked up the sleeping miniature Death Guard and tossed it toward Malcador.
Then he produced another one from somewhere within his robes.
"No."
He shook his head.
"I'm merely a Remembrancer."
"A recorder of history."
He rejected his own previous statement.
Malcador gently stroked the unconscious little warrior and asked calmly:
"Do Remembrancers interfere with history?"
Trazyn fell silent.
For a long time, neither spoke.
Finally, the Necron answered.
"I just think it's better to do something..."
"...than to do nothing at all."
Green light flickered across the metallic contours of his face.
Trazyn leaned back lazily, swaying slightly as he sat.
"If someone makes a mistake, then someone else has to step forward and stop it," Trazyn spoke thoughtfully.
"Whether I understood that truth back then..."
He paused.
"Unfortunately, I can no longer remember that day."
Had Trazyn resisted during the biotransference ritual all those ages ago?
Even he could no longer say.
"I simply don't want to see another tragedy."
His tone was absent-minded.
"And even if I fail, for me it's merely a matter of sleeping for another few tens of thousands of years."
Malcador sighed.
The old man's spirits were no higher than Trazyn's.
"Thank you for your assistance."
"Before this campaign began, we never anticipated that this contingency plan would be the one we'd have to use."
Trazyn laughed.
"If you're truly grateful..."
He leaned back.
"Fine. I want the Mona Lisa."
The hand holding Malcador's teacup twitched.
"You could simply take it yourself."
"Having it legitimately is preferable."
Malcador looked up.
"Perhaps you should covet something else."
"Hades's abilities, for instance."
"Or Mortarion's."
Trazyn made a sound of disgust.
"Do they know the Imperium is trying to package them up and sell them off?"
Malcador answered calmly, "They knew from the very beginning."
Trazyn considered that for a moment.
"I understand what you're suggesting."
"Hades can assimilate the powers of the C'tan. He possesses the Black Domain as well—absolute mastery of the physical side."
"And Mortarion carries the potential of Life itself."
"That could allow us to once again..."
If the Necrons wished to continue as masters of the material universe, Hades's abilities would be irresistibly tempting.
And if they wished to reclaim their souls, a guarantee from Mortarion might be an equally valuable bargain.
At the very least, the Necrons currently had no intention of storming Nurgle's Garden and kidnapping Isha.
Not to mention that the Aeldari and the Necrons remained ancient enemies.
Trazyn fell silent.
Eventually, he spoke lightly.
"This is my decision."
"It has nothing to do with my species."
"I'm simply letting a friend hide out at my place for a while."
"And, incidentally, enjoying the sight of the Four Chaos Gods getting humiliated."
"That's all."
"Just that?"
"Just that."
Malcador released a long sigh.
"You don't sound like a politician."
"I'm a Remembrancer."
Trazyn let out a dry laugh.
"And besides..."
"You absolutely would not enjoy witnessing politics between Necron dynasties."
If Trazyn were being honest, his own assessment would be:
It's an absolute disaster.
Malcador continued, "When this campaign is over, I'll have the Mona Lisa delivered to you."
He paused.
"No..."
"Let's simply be friends."
Trazyn stared at him.
"Becoming friends with you is not a particularly good investment right now."
Malcador paused for a moment.
"Very well."
"I understand."
"Thank you for the warning."
The old man sounded weary.
"I know..."
"I know that we misunderstood the prophecy."
Malcador began coughing again.
He waved a hand.
Golden flames ignited around the room.
"Honored guest from another race."
"Let us forge a pact."
"For the sake of our friendship with the Deceased One."
"And for the sake of the little Death Guards."
Trazyn raised the tiny figure he was holding.
"I'm currently trying to figure out how to let Corax obtain a portion of Nurgle's authority."
He examined the miniature Death Guard thoughtfully.
"I finally understand why Nurgle's daemons are so fond of Nurglings."
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