Day 340 of the 987th year of the 41st millennium
Upper Hive
The atmosphere in the once opulent office suddenly became stifling when Valen Korvax entered. His older brother, with a face almost identical to Vann's, but with a more elegant, arrogant aura of the upper class, and most importantly... he still had both eyes, unlike Vann who had lost one eye and shaved his face clean-shaven.
Vann glared at his brother with deep hatred. The memory of 15 years ago, when he was banished from his family by his father and his beloved sister was assassinated—all part of Valen's scheme—was still vivid. He had to struggle to survive in the filthy slums of the Lower Hive, fighting his way up to become a general through his own efforts.
"The planet Governor has been executed, Vann," Valen said in a deep, soft voice, yet laced with control. He waited patiently to see what his brother wanted and what was about to happen.
The previous governor of the planet was executed by Inquisitor Korvin Hale for trading with the Rouge Trader and acquiring potentially dangerous Xenos technology. Following the governor's execution,
the nobles and various families on the planet immediately began vying for power, hoping to claim the high position of governor—a position granting absolute control.
He hoped his brother wasn't planning on becoming the new governor.
Otherwise, things would only get worse.
"The nobles from the other Hives are sharpening their swords, preparing to seize power. This city will soon be engulfed in flames. You should return to my side... return to the Korvax family so we can control the situation together and manage the damage," Valen explained calmly.
"No," Valen replied with a cold smile.
"You never listen to me, Valen. Whether it's about reducing working hours to lessen pressure, or managing human resources more efficiently instead of wasting them, you always ignore my warnings." "And now I am the General commanding the PDF forces. I report directly to the Governor of the Star, not the Korvax family, and I will not take sides." He looked at his brother with an expressionless face. There was no blatant anger, only coldness and deep-seated hatred.
Valen stared at his younger brother with an unreadable gaze. He was silent for a moment before slowly rising to his feet. His imposing presence made Van seem like a dark shadow moving in the corner of the room.
Valen reached into his expensive silk robe and pulled out an object, placing it on the metal table with a clink. It was a sleek, black steel pistol, resembling the legendary M1911 from antiquity, meticulously preserved. It looked simple yet powerful and steeped in history. Valen slid the gun towards Van and uttered a sentence that shattered the silence in the room.
"This is your last chance. I hope you'll use it wisely."
With that, Valen turned and walked out of the room without waiting for a reply, leaving Van sitting motionless behind the table, his remaining eye staring at the gun with an indescribable emotion. His heart pounded with utter confusion and shock.
Memories flashed back 15 years, to a time when the Corvax mansion still stood majestically. The young Vann wasn't the tall, muscular, scarred man he was today. He was a portly young man with pale, almost sun-kissed skin, his face puffy from heavy drinking and a life of debauchery.
He sprawled on an expensive velvet sofa in a room filled with the pungent scent of perfume and leftover scraps of luxurious food. He was surrounded by bottles of expensive drinks and littered with silk garments.
The door was forcefully pushed open. Valen burst in, his usual dignified and sharp demeanor. He glared at his younger brother with undisguised pity and disgust.
"Vann... get up now," Valen said sternly. "Go do something useful for the family. I gave you the opportunity to help manage the 64 bp area, but you sent a representative and are wasting precious time indulging in pleasure in this filthy room?"
Vann looked up at his older brother. He chuckled softly, taking a nonchalant sip from his drink.
"Oh... Valen, why are you so stressed?" Vann replied in a drawn-out, arrogant tone, like a spoiled nobleman.
"Our family has enough money to last ten lifetimes. You should just be the 'model son.' As for me... I was born to find happiness, not to sit around sniffing old papers in that office. It's a waste of time." He shrugged, his excess flesh rippling.
"Besides... Dad loves me to death. Even if I do nothing, he'll never let me starve. You should worry about yourself. Working so hard will age you faster, brother *burp*." He let out an unashamed burp after he finished speaking. Valen stood still, his fists clenched, veins bulging. He stared at his younger brother, who was laughing heartily, completely lacking in intelligence and responsibility. Silence fell over the room for a moment before Valen spoke in a voice so cold it sent shivers down Vann's spine.
"Is that your answer?"
"Yes! And now, please leave. I'm going to call the girls in for more partying. Don't interrupt my fun!" Vann waved him away like a fly. Valen said nothing more. He turned and walked out of the room, leaving his portly younger brother laughing mockingly amidst the crumbling wealth that would soon collapse.
Valen looked even more weary then than he did now. His older brother had offered reason and warnings time and again, but he chose to laugh and walk away. Until the mysterious death of their older sister (which was Valen's doing) changed everything. Power fell into Valen's hands, and just a few days later, he was thrown from the mansion into the depths of the Lower Hive by servants, on the orders of their father who had heard the disgusting "truth" about him from Valen's own lips.
Vann remembered the feeling well. He was a pathetic coward. Noss curled up amidst the garbage, the stench of sewage, and the pollution, about to give up and starve to death like a dog. Amidst his hazy consciousness and the ringing of hunger, a shadowy figure approached and stopped beside him. What he heard then was a whisper he thought was a voice from hell…
"This is your last chance. I hope you'll make the most of it."
The icy touch of a metal gun handle was thrust into his trembling hand before the figure vanished into the shadows of the slum. That gun was what transformed him from victim to hunter; it was what paved his way from the mud to the rank of general today.
And now… seeing that same gun before him again, hearing the same words spoken by Valen, Vann realized the most terrifying truth.
The person who forced that gun into his hand in the slums 15 years ago… the person who pushed him into hell only for him to climb back up as a better version of himself… was none other than his older brother, the one he had hated his entire life.
Why would his brother do this?
(Writer's note: Vann's past is also the reason why many nobles and others don't trust or have confidence in his advice.) Even though the advice was good and helpful.)
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Upper Hive (Lower Section)
"Finally," Eric, dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and trousers, muttered to himself, sighing deeply before wiping the sweat from his forehead. He had just finished assembling a thin metal chest of drawers.
His room now had the necessary furniture, which he had bought that morning. Most of it was foldable furniture that he could move alone, such as a temporary wardrobe, folding chair, small folding table, and a folding bed.
He wanted to ask for help from others or staff, but he felt strangely nervous and apprehensive, so he didn't ask for help or use a moving service. But it didn't really affect him much, since he managed to move everything into the room himself. He didn't know if he was being overly paranoid... but at least it was better than being completely careless.
And now, even though he couldn't move the heavy, high-quality furniture, his room looked better and more livable, even though the walls were currently gray. The store didn't sell any paint or wallpaper, which was strange, but maybe it was normal. Eric picked up a bottle of water and took a drink. In his opinion, the water and food in the upper hive were far superior in quality to those in the lower hive, and the prices weren't exorbitant considering the income of those working there. It was heaven. Most importantly, there was a much wider variety of food, although most was canned goods and starch bars. He also happened to pass a bar while browsing for furniture.
Suddenly, he realized something was missing.
Was he missing a large mirror?
No, he'd just bought one, and it was hanging on the wall.
He only had about four or five pieces of clothing, all quite old and not quite fitting the upper hive residents' attire—too plain, too plain, even his plain t-shirts and underwear. He needed new clothes. With that thought, he grabbed his bag, prepared some money, and left his room.
Eric walked along the street for about ten minutes until he reached the shopping district, a collection of shops selling various goods, from household items to food.
Seeing a bookstore, he didn't hesitate to go in and buy a guidebook on using low gothic language before quickly leaving.
_Because if anyone saw him, they'd surely laugh at him,_ Eric thought to himself.
Eric walked into a clothing store, which was elegantly decorated inside and had a wide variety of clothes, from short-sleeved shirts and shorts to lingerie, various types of robes, and even a counter offering custom-made clothing.
Eric immediately went to the section with simple yet stylish long-sleeved trousers and work shirts. He wanted something inconspicuous, modest, and not too luxurious that he would be uncomfortable. The problem was:
Should he buy a dark gray or a black-gray shirt?
Three hours later,
Eric, now dressed casually, sat motionless on the edge of his room bed. The light from the lamp illuminated his confused and flushed face. He hesitantly picked up a small object, as if it were a ticking time bomb.
It was just a pair of light pink underwear.
"...What have I done?" Eric muttered to himself, his voice trembling with disbelief. He raised one hand to his forehead.
He'd just gone to the clothing store to buy four or five more outfits, and he'd ended up with quite a few—mostly long-sleeved shirts, pants, and coats, mostly modest and healthy-looking clothes, along with some spare undershirts and underwear.
After about an hour of deliberation, he'd settled on a dark gray long-sleeved shirt and dark gray pants, which matched perfectly. He spent another hour shopping for other items like t-shirts, shorts, and underwear.
But standing in front of the underwear section, his thoughts raced. He remembered needing to buy more personal hygiene products because he was running low. He'd chosen the best quality, breathable fabrics. The seams didn't chafe, but why... why did it turn out to be such a "sweet pink"?
"What was I thinking buying this color?" Eric argued with himself inwardly. He stared at the pink fabric in his hand with a slightly wary, but mostly embarrassed, expression. He touched the fabric... honestly, it was very soft, and the stitching was excellent for the price. In terms of value and usability, it was a pretty worthwhile choice.
"But pink! I'm a man... I mean... I'm still a man inside!" he groaned inwardly. A surge of shyness and insecurity welled up, making him want to disappear into the ground. If anyone else, even Livia, saw this, he wouldn't know where to hide his face. Eric quickly spun around to check if the door was locked (even though he'd checked three times already) before hastily folding the problematic pink fabric and stuffing it into the deepest part of the drawer.
_Just a backup... an emergency backup, I guess._ "No way would I wear that on a normal day! No way!" He tried to rationalize it, but then remembered how expensive the lingerie was. Throwing it away would be a bad idea.
He flopped down on the bed, even though it wasn't time to sleep yet. He sighed deeply, exhausted. Not from work, but from dealing with his own habits and tastes that seemed to be changing little by little without him realizing it.
"Tomorrow... I have to look for a job. I need to focus on work. Forget about that pink, Eric. Forget it." He tried to distract himself and force himself to sleep.
But after much hesitation, Eric finally decided to try it on... He slowly opened his eyes before getting up and changing into the pink lingerie. He wasn't very confident while changing because it was pink, and he didn't know what he would look like in it.
It would be so embarrassing.
After putting it on completely, his first feeling was how incredibly embarrassing it was to wear something like that, and he felt unsafe wearing it, even though he was alone in his room. The next sensation was surprise; the feel wasn't much different from regular underwear, just more comfortable.
However, when he saw his reflection in the new mirror he'd bought that day, Eric froze for a moment, bewildered by the feeling that welled up inside him. Instead of disgust or resistance, he found that... the image before him looked strangely "good."
"This isn't so bad," the thought popped into his head unexpectedly. He didn't usually look in the mirror, but as he examined his body, his perspective changed. Previously, he'd just glanced at it with discomfort—because his appearance made him seem like a target, a victim, and made life difficult.
Today, however, he saw surprisingly perfect proportions. A waist that complemented his shapely hips, smooth yet strong thighs, and a flat, toned stomach. Everything seemed balanced. Even… well… those two lumps of fat on his chest strangely suited his overall physique. And the color of his bra suited him surprisingly well.
His gaze and right hand drifted down to the faint scar on his left abdomen, and the numerous other scars from the brutal surgery performed by that psychotic Tech-Priest. Eric lightly touched the scars on his stomach and frowned slightly in displeasure.
"These scars… they don't fit at all," he muttered to himself, slightly annoyed that his perfect physique was being ruined by them. But he didn't make a big fuss about it, because these scars were from surgery. If he was correct, judging from the details the tech priest had written on the receipt, he'd had a kidney transplant, 25% of his liver, and part of his intestines. The treatment was incredibly expensive, and he still couldn't find the person who paid for it. He desperately wanted to thank them.
However, suddenly, Eric jolted as if he'd been electrocuted. He realized he was standing in front of a mirror, twisting and turning, scrutinizing his figure in pink lingerie with a dreamy look in his eyes—a look he absolutely shouldn't be having on himself!
"Ugh..."
A burning sensation shot up his face, spreading to his ears, turning them bright red. Eric quickly raised his loosely clenched left hand to his blushing cheek, trying to hide his embarrassment that no one could see. But he couldn't bear to look at himself in the mirror any longer.
"Enough! Stop staring at yourself in the mirror, you idiot Eric!" Eric muttered to himself, his eyes darting away nervously. He held his loosely clenched left hand close to his cheek. Then he draped his right arm across his body, covering his chest
Eric hastily grabbed a gray t-shirt and shorts, putting them on with trembling hands. His heart pounded from sheer shame at himself.
He shouldn't have done this, and he shouldn't look at himself like this. What he had done was awful.
Eric settled back down at his bedside table, trying to compose himself. He took deep breaths to clear the images from his mind. He shifted his attention to the pile of Low Gothic books he'd bought that morning, along with the furniture in front of him.
"Yes... work is more important," he murmured softly, reminding himself. He was confident his language skills were good enough to communicate; reading and writing were much more fluent. However, there were still some sentences and words he didn't understand. He needed to study more and find a job as soon as possible. Staying cooped up in his room living off his savings wasn't good in the long run.
But suddenly, a thought popped into his head.
_What would he look like in lace lingerie?_
Slap!
Eric slapped himself across the face before continuing
to read. He would never do something like that!
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Writer's Note: Now we've learned more about our two main characters.