5KM East of Jayden, stood a gigantic spire a kilometer tall, easily dwarfing many of the minimalistic architecture of the region-sized city. It had the shape of the blade of a box-cutter with silver lines cascading down its sides, as if outlining the thing. On the second topmost floor of the building, a man was quickly sifting through his papers filled with proposals, mostly denying them outright with a glance and nothing more. The room he was in had an expansive design, with slants in the corners and two camelback sofas facing opposite of each other, with a glass table in the middle. He had the look of a well-mannered diplomat, with his keen auburn eyes and his graying blonde hair. He was looking through proposals for the city-fortress while waiting for his guests. He looked at the time, 4:05 Sol Time, he sighed, just a bit more and he could relieve himself of his duties and take a well-deserved break. He put his attention back at the papers, denying more of them until a particular one caught his eye.
[Proposal: Allocate More Resources For Expedition]
He raised his eyebrow in contemplation, before deciding to accept the thing. He searched his desk for the 'accepted' stamp and found it soon after, a small layer of dust indicating of it's seldom use. Planetary Governor Yury Myshelov looked at the mountain of finished paperwork, before snapping his fingers. Immediately, a pale girl wearing a suit resembling Russian 20th century uniforms, her epaulets less showy than Yury's which were longer and more defined, entered the room with a hydraulic hiss, the door closing shortly after. She was Yury's secretary of 5 years, Svetlana Zherdeva, the third daughter of a Noble House. She had dyed lavender hair, glistening grey eyes and a circular face structure. She was also wearing makeup and lipstick, no doubt to impress her other secretary friends. She had a soft, tenderly smile on her face, while Yury looked back at the proposal and stamped it with the 'accepted' mark.
"Care to order some coffee, Governor?" Svetlana said, her voice like that of an professional yet caring subordinate, something which Yury didn't fail to notice. "I would like that, Ms. Zherdava." Yury replied, a stark contrast to the professional Svetlana, he had an airy tone to his voice, completely contrasting with his position which many commoners only dreamed of getting. Life in the Imperium was harsh as it did not tolerate failure like many other regimes before, you only had two chances for mistakes and if even one of those chances are spent, you took a step further into becoming a inconspicuous corpse on the squalor-driven slums. There was no tolerance for airy attitudes in the Imperium, which made it physically incapable of making good jokes, save for the more isolated parts or the rare 'Airy on Break, Serious on Duty' personality. Yury was one of those rare personalities, he had a friendly attitude when he was sifting his paperwork like any other day. When on days when the Voidborne broke through the frontlines, he had a calculating aura about him, and only demanded complete silence while he was thinking despite the orbital bombardments.
She nodded, before walking back to the coffee maker. Once she was out of sight, Yury pulled out his laptop, and started hurriedly clicking on his mouse. When he found the correct link, he reached down, into his hollow desk, and pulled out headphones that he bought recently. Suddenly the door hissed open, Yury violently closed the laptop before anyone saw what was on there. Svetlana walked in, piping hot coffee on a tray on her person, the smoke wafting out of the small hole in the plastic cup. She raised an eyebrow at the noise her superior made on the poor device, wondering why he had to do that to it. She walked to Yury at a moderate pace, but for him was like an eternity, his mind in overdrive at the implications of this untimely arrival. She was right next to Yury, when she carefully put the plastic coffee cup onto the table. 'No,' Svetlana thought after contemplation, 'it would be disrespectful to him to intrude on what was clearly a private matter, I'll just work as if it never happened.'. After a few tense seconds in Yury's perspective, she nodded and strode to the exit, waving at him goodbye before she was gone with a hiss. Yury released his breath he didn't know he was holding, and slumped into his crimson chair, his frame being integrated onto the textile.
Little did Svetlana know, that her decision to look into the abyss would've saved Yury...
He opened the laptop and pressed a button on it's lower left side to activate it, a white desktop background appearing soon after, he backtracked, and clicked the link he was eager to see. After a few seconds, a myriad of sounds assaulted Yury's ears, but he responded only with a wide smile. It sounded like Pop Music, but it was different? Off...
A language Yury was very accustomed to reached his ears, and he sang along with the girls in the music video.
"Stop! 状況が悲惨な場合は,私に電話してください. 私があなたの悲しみを判断するよ.
私はあなたの手を握ります,あなたは大丈夫でしょう.
私はあなたが大丈夫か確認します.
さあ,高く飛ぼう!
Encore!"
A sick guitar riff plays in the background, as girls in white frilly outfits sing and dance on the stage. They had an assortment of colors, mainly being bright red, mango yellow, and azure blue.
"星のように輝く君を見て
上を見上げるだけでショータイムがわかる
空にきらめくように
新たなる希望を発見!
すべてが失われたように見えるとき
希望を抱いて バランスを崩す
そのために私たちは何をしますか
Now, look up, and see our destiny!"
Yury's slow clapped, like many of the highborn people on watching the Live. That Petronious sure knows how to cultivate a shining star. Her superfluid movements, her enamoring voice, and her beautiful face captivates the hearts of all but the most cruel. Their coordination, gestures and design are out of this world. In only a few hours, views are in the billions.
"いつ,目が覚めた
寒くて暗い場所でした
君を見つけるまで
そしてあなたは世界を明るくした
何を言っても
私はいつもあなたのそばにいます
そして一緒に困難に立ち向かいましょう
私たちは Starlight!"
Yury clapped, now with even more fervor, he could faintly tell something watery was in his eyes, but he tuned it out as quickly as he noticed it. For Mika Hasuzaki, the real name of the lead idol of Starlight, is singing her moderately pitched song. Behind her, Yury could see, was the man himself, Petronious Flavius, the famed Idolmaster, as many called him. He had a squared jaw and looked to be of Greek origin, and was slow-clapping his most perfect creation. He was the producer of Starlight, the most popular idol group in the Imperium, and a bulwark against despair. For if they did not exist, many would've fallen to despair long ago, Yury included. He looked at the progress bar of the Live, and saw that he tuned in the middle of it all, a slight grumble escapes his lips. Damn, he was late!
Suddenly, a message pinged on his laptop, rudely interrupting her chorus. That slight grumble turned into a minor tantrum, as who would disturb a man watching Starlight? As he looked at the message, his blood turned to ice, his eyes widened like plates, and everything tuned out of existence.
He read the message.
[Dear Governer, I'm pinging this to you ahead of time. Me and Kara are currently cruising to the Tower, do notify your aide when we arrive. We had discreetly docked one of our smaller craft to the edges of the city to meet with you. Fortunately, my friend's contact was waiting for me with one of those new anti-grav cars. I must say, it was a weird feeling weightlessness while you're om the ground. I do hope they affix this on one of our tanks soon, those xenos won't know what hit 'em! Anyway, I hope you are fine after all this years, it had been quite some time since we last asked each other, and I hope to inquire more about this expedition you were mounting. I hardly thought the Grand Fleet was necessary though. I'll be coming to the Tower. ETA 30 minutes.
From your long time friend——Grünter Mildenheim, Admiral of 247th Battlegroup]
Yury Myshelov tightened his fists in annoyance. Not only did he not appreciate the sly vixen called Grünter, he interrupted his Idol Session! He sighed, reining in his emotions once more. No, he shouldn't be angry about that, he should be logical, like his father said to do. Mission first, Idols second. He quickly called Svetlana on his holo-phone, said phone ringing an annoying chime. Once finished, a ping sounded in his left ear, where his phone was, and Svetlana's neutral tone leaked out. "What do you need, Governer?" 'Already in attention, huh? No wonder I hired you.' Yury thought. "Svetlana, I need you to unlock the mag-locks on the lobby doors for 31 minutes, no more, no less, got it? I seem to have a guest...". There was silence on the phone, before Svetlana replied; "Orders acknowledged, sir." Svetlana replied robotically. Yury smiled, perhaps he can get noticed by Petronious now? He hanged up. With the objective done, he silently contemplated watching more of Starlight, but he shook his head. Nothing good comes out of not being ready, again, his father always said that.
Exactly thirty minutes later, he was notified of a guest coming over. He softly smiled, the sly fox never changes with his antics.
Günther stood in a circle-shaped elavator, along with his subordinate Kara Von Reicksland. They were lifting up into the topfloor at high-speeds, a small mercy which he thanked the Founder for. Like most elavators in the Imperium, they have the same principles as do a mag-lev; generating speed through electromagnetism, quickly lifting someone to the highest floor in the time it takes for a Skitter to skitter. Which was very fast, mind you. They both stood in an awkard silence, Kara was to his left, wearing the dark-blue prevalent in high-ranking navy officers, he was no exception, only Grand Admirals had the chance to wear completely white clothes, with more epaulets to choke a horse. He wryly snickered, before reverting back to his prior demeanor. The elavator door opened with a more bassed ping, before both walked out. While the top floor has less than sufficient manpower containing it, since they'd gone somewhere, it doesn't mean it's completely destitute. Many passerbys looked at them, whispering about an unfair relationship, and generally feeling sympathetic to Kara, which he did not pick up on why. Kara, in contrast, seemed to notice it, flashing a quick grin at the confused Admiral. A few minutes of walking later, they finally found the door to the Governer's room; an ornate wooden door, with the carvings of an assortment melee weapons, including tridents, swords, tower shields, and a Gauss gun. He was beyond thankfull seeing the door, mostly because he was too old to walk a few minutes now, he craned his back, an audible crack resounding in a mostly barren hallway, barring him and Kara. He gulped and swiveled his head to look at Kara's reaction to his comical blunder. Would he be retired? Would they put him on The List? Would she report me? He slowly swiveled his neck to see Kara, a visage of professionalism on her face, while Grünter was visibly nervous. "I won't report you, Admiral." Kara said, almost like reading his mind. "Your talents in strategy and intrigue are too good to pass up, at worst, you'll be reassigned to a more peaceful District. So don't go shivering like a baby deer in front of me, okay?" she reassured him, a neutral expression on her face, reeking of professionalism. Günther sighed in relief, at least he won't "mysteriously disappear".
Günther steeled himself, and opened the wooden door, confidently striding into the office. Yury was on his desk, shifting through his papers that he recieved today, the sight of the gridded city in full view of the large window behind him. He took a momentary glance to Günther, before organizing his papers, his auburn eyes taking momentary glances at him. The tense silence continues, before the Planetary Governer spoke: "Ah, salutations, friend, I trust Svetlana was kind?" he began. "I assure you, Governer, Svetlana gave me the upmost respect." the affable old man said. "Say, why do you look so older now?" Yury raised his eyebrow in confusion, they were born roughly on the same year, so why did one look like an actor and the other a senior citizen? Günther shrugged, "I don't know Yury, maybe it's because of the stress?" "Well, whatever it was, I hope it doesn't become a detriment. Care to take a seat?" Yury gestured to the sofas in front of him, they both nodded and silently took their seats; opposite of each other.
Kara eyed the two men, it was clear they were testing each other's waters, and to hopefully ascertain their true goals through an accidental slip in the crack, due to their familiarity as friends. Kara silently shuffled while the genial old men talk about bygone times. A thing she also used to do with her friends, until...
No. Reminiscing about the past isn't gonna get anyone anywhere, what requires attention is the present and the future. Yury stood up from his desk and walked to his right, where a wooden cabinet stood. He opened it, and took out a bottle of champagne and three glasses. "Holy sheiße, you wouldn't!" Günther said in genuine happiness. "I would, really." Yury retorted, giving both his guests and him the drink. Kara admitted that she was a little suprised when he pulled out that card, but had a neutral expression nonetheless. She quitely stirred the blood-red cup, while the men talk, Kara was in her little world looking at the bottle, a deep fascination suddenly taking hold of her, she looked at her reflection in the bottle, and stirred it again.
Stirring, stirring, stirring...
[-]
Kara suddenly hit the sandy ground, hard, a satisfying crack noise resounding a moment later. Pain jolted through her nose, but she endured it, she always has under physical pain. Wondering where she was, she looked around her; she was currently in the middle of a ruin, baked by the scorching sun on this godforsaken Arid planet, what was the Exploration and Colony Director thinking when he designated this as a priority target? Wait. Before she could think why she knew she was on an Arid planet to begin with, a searing pain when through her elbow, the vestiges of a kinetic shot a moment later. She quickly hid to cover and carefully looked out of the unstable concrete wall. There was a contingent of enemies and vics, all of them poorly maintained ramshackle gear, excluding the lead vic, which had, of all things, a flamethrower. Kara recognized some symbols and said vics but can't, for the life of her, figure out what it means. It's similar to the feeling of wanting to wilingly sneeze by looking at a bright light; it fluctuates from almost recognizing it to downright curiosity. It wasn't until she looked at what came out of the lead vic that it finally clicked. What came out of the rusted vehicle per se, was humanoid in appearance, and that was about the extent of it's human features. It was extremely lean, having next to no arm muscle, because it's entire body was made out of metal and synthetic fiber, having a singular, red eye, in it's oddly shaped head. It also wore a disheveled cloak and was carrying what looks like an assault rifle. All the other persons were a mix of robots and marauder-looking humans. That's it!
What Kara was looking at was a small party of pirates under the employ of the infamous Pirate King, along with some Synths from the Synthetic Rebellions. But that's not right, the Pirate King died with his mobile space station a decade and a half ago, and most Synths were systematically elimenated to where they are only present in the Outer Colonies, so why was she seeing them? Then she realized another thing, this was a flashback! She remembered participating in the campaign against the King when she was a young teen and a proper officer. Suddenly, shots rang out in the scorching deserts, causing everyone to look at it's source. In the distance, a more well-maintained camo vic burst from the dunes, it's turret whirring to life soon after. After a moment of registration, all the pirates ran to their respective vehicles, worry plastered on their faces. The second Pirate's vehicle roared to life, so did one motorbike, and the other soon after; only the lead vic wasn't responding. The well-maintained vic's turret belted out bullets at a staggering speed, quickly killing the motor riders and setting their gas tanks aflame, the other car's passengers saw this, and shot at the vic with a diverse set of weapons, both from ground and their top cupola. A loud shot rings out in the desert, the pirate's head in the upper cupola explodes into bits, following another shot, which struck at their gas tank, dooming the nearby brigands to a flaming and shrapnel-filled death. The Synth desperately tries to activate the car, to no avail. A shot rang, along with a gust of wind, the Synth's odd head head being penetrated a moment later from a diagonal angle, killing it instantly. The party lost.
Kara looked at the vic; it was a standardized Mechanized Assault Vehicle of the Imperial Armed Forces, it looked bulky, a prime contradiction of it's speedy assault, and had black-tinted windows at the sides and to the front. It had the descendant of the LMG, the prided LMG-42Mk.3—name due to being released in the eve of 4200, and being it's 3rd reiteration—mounted atop the cupola, remotely controlled by someone inside the thing. On the back, was a narrow door that cam barely fit someone, and in it, were the either the minimum 3 crew or the maximum 12. The door busted open, revealing about 8 Standard Marines methodically clearing the ruins and checking the bodies, paying her no mind. While they were searching, Kara decided to think about her situation.
It was clear she was having a flashback, there was only the 'How?' or the 'Why?' to worry about. First things first, the 'How?'. It had probably something to do with that pesky wine Yury gave to her, was it laced with poison or some weird drug? It wouldn't suprise her, honestly. This was not the first time she was betrayed, and he always had that stupid smile on his face, she always wanted an excuse to punch him square in the jaw. Now, the problem was 'Why?'. As far as she can see, he had nothing to benefit from drugging her, unless it was her connection to Reicksland Industries, but why would he do that? He already had more than enough budget to fuck off to a resort habitat for a decade, courtesy of the annual funding being put into the Forge, for both being a shipyard and a fortress. Was he just that greedy? No, that wasn't right. People having that much greed tend to last briefly on the political stage, and yet Yury had been at the influence game for over a decade! As she pondered more and more, the scene around suddenly changes from a scorching desert to a lush rainforest, a prime juxtaposition if there ever was one.
She briefly looked around the rainforest, again, she can faintly feel something…a familiarity again? But then this makes it another flashback. If so, what…Kara looked in front of her and stopped, eyes widening at the harrowing sight before her. There was a Dropship in front of her; it looked very utalitarian in the design, with white paint and cube-like proportions, it's ramp dropped out into the green grass below it. Inside the Dropship were various supplies and gear to make an permanent outpost on here; rations, construction equipment, quantum communication towers and much more. But what got Kara's undivided attention wasn't the unfinished outpost, the large amounts of blood on the floor where the ramp landed, or the faint chittering behind her, she was completely and utterly entranced in the young girl, a few meters away from the ramp, bleeding out. She was wearing Carapace Exo-suit Armor, and had a crimson cape on her backside, denoting her position as an officer. Her broken helmet, spent mags, and Gauss rifle were strewn around her, just barely out of reach. Her left leg was broken, a piece of bone laid bare to the elements. She had tanned skin, jet-black hair, seemingly glowing blue eyes, and had freckles dotting the middle of her face. Kara looked at her, dumbfounded, before a primal dread welled up inside her, threatening to consume her in her current whirlwind of emotions. She tried to keep her emotions in check, but he harder she tried the more it forced itself onto her. In only a few seconds, the supposed 'Lioness of Reicksland' was sobbing at the sight of her lost friend, tears streaming down her pristine face. She sobbed and asked her questions that she had been meaning to ask her all this time.
'Why did you do it?'
'Why you and not me?'
'Why did you stay there and not get on the ship?'
'Why are you always so happy?'
It had been a few dozen seconds now, Kara had just released her dam of emotions, the tanned girl was now weakly standing up, only supported by a nearby tower of crates. Kara looked at her pleadingly, desperate to find an answer in this madness, to get out of here preferably. She looked at her, innumerable tears blanketing her face, highliting her tired eyes and disheveled hair. The tanned girl looked at her in a neutral expression, and she smiled. It was a wide smile, a smile that melted the hearts of any cruel man in the world, it was a smile that inspired men and women to action, but most importantly, it was genuine smile, shared only between your mist trusted friends. Kara looked at her, and smiled sadly.
"Santos…" she said, her voice full of nostalgia and sadness. It was a name that had graced her lips in a long, long time. She only said them to her best friend, and possibly her only friend in the Academy, Alice Santos. A loud screech breaches her ears and she looked on with mute horror as a large bipedal bug-like creature towered over Alice, resembling a mixture of a mantis and an ant, with black carapaces in otherwise vulnerable positions. It raised one of it's four arms, deeply resembling a scythe, and impaled her through the chest. The Hiver raised the girl up, as if inspecting a trophy, before it impaled her with another arm in her lower abdomen. It looked up at her, bathing her in the sun, before violently pulling out the scythe-arms, her entrails and viscera splattering all over the area, including Kara herself. She looked at it in horror before an engulfing contempt began to take hold of her, and she charged at the thing with no weapons like a madman or a person blinded by their desires. Again, the scene changed.
She was no longer at the site of the killing, and she mentally chided herself for that. She looked around; she was literally in an endless void, with no light to speak of or say, and was floating, probably because it was zero-gravity. How she wasn't dead yet was beyond her, but she guesses that's how dreams work, after all. Her senses flared up; her gut was telling her that she was being watched by someone, and by the intensity of it, a lot of someones. It was if a thousand and one, hateful, evil eyes made her the target of their ire, for probably some equally sick reason. She whirled and twirled in the void, all but desperate to make out her current attackers, but to no avail. A faint whisper is heard: "K…ra…"
She turned around, to see a gray, gassy silhouette, reaching out to her and doing something unintelligible with his right arm. "Ka…ra…" it said in echoey voice, the mentioning of her name piqued her interest amd she blurted out: "Kara Von Riecksland, first daughter of the Riecksland Noble House, second heir of Riecksland Industries, and you?"
"Ka..ra.."
"Kara…"
"Kara..!"
Kara gulped and rested her hand on he pommed of her sabre, her pistol was sadly confiscated by Svetlana on the way to Yury, the dog, she would punch his gut once she wakes up from this nightmare.
"Kara.!!"
Now that she was paying attention, that voice was familiar, it certainly matches up with the blonde, red-haired rat face, she knows. Perhaps not waking is better, after all?
"Kara!"
She jolted open her eyes, and she was greeted with a sight she sorely missed; Günther was busy massaging his temples after what seemed like a headdache, and Yury was dangerously close to her face, a worried expression plastered on his. Two empty bottles of champagne laid on the glass table, while her own was still wearily on her hand. She looked at Yury and smiled at him, he seemed relieved for a moment before his face scrunched up in pain from the devastating punch to the man's stomach. He keeled over, dearily clutching his belly like his own blood, which it technically was. She smiled again, a more genuine one this time. Günther looked like he would have an aneurysm and have a stroke at the same time, his face-folds even more distinct that it already was, while Yury was still smiling through the pain, accompanied by the occasional cough. She noticed there was something wet on her cheeks and wiped it
off. The trio recollected themselves after a short while and Kara was the first to question; "What the fuck did you put in there, Yury?!" she said through gritted teeth. "Oh, nothing just a little psychite, that's all." Yury replied nonchalantly. Kara's eyes widened for the third or fifth time today. Psychite? How did THAT thing get here, a place that practically hugged the Frontier? Psychite was a very rare herb, that was found on the famed 'Psionic planet' of Warp in the system oddly called Sigmar. It was basically Rich Man's Cocaine, and was highly addictive, making you feel omnipotent and significantly heightening your psionic power, albeit temporarily. There was even an alleged report from a powerful psychic, Saito, that he 'accidentally' astral-projected himself. He would get to his real body, a few hours later, and was found out peeping on the girl's hotspring during that time, a problematic personality, that one.
"How the hell did you get that?" Günther stole the words from her mouth.
"A trader never reveals his craft." Yury said, before continuing. "Now, you better scurry on to your Battlegroup now. Who knows how anxious they are?" Yury said with an airy tone.
She looked at the clock behind him. Damn! She was late! So, he planned this all along, huh? Kara sighed dejectedly, the two men giving her waiting looks, before she ordered: "Let's get out of here, Günther. It pains me to be in the same room as this filth." she said with searing contempt. Günther seemed to pick up on that, and he straightend his blue admiral uniform. "Yes, Commander, let's." Günther replied firmly.
As the disgruntled duo hurriedly exited the room with a slam, Yury was still keeled over, touching his belly and enduring through the residual pain. After a few minutes of laying, he finally stood up and dusted of his pants, modeled after Pre-Collpase design, and strided over to his desk. He looked at his coffee cup longingly, before drinking it in piecemeal, the scalding temperatures interacting with his resilient tongue. A ping resounds in his desktop again, and he scowls momentarily, before reaching his mouse and clicking on his Emails. He looked through the new message and visibly gulped. He quickly relinquishes his coffee, putting it on the cabinet and with urgency not seen before, rushed to prepare the Holographic Emitters. The Holographic Emitters were the shape of an upside-down Y, and in the intersection was the place where the Hologram materialized, and had very varied sizes. For Yury, he had Holographic Emitters roughly the size of his palms, where the Hologram itself adapted to the size as well. He readied two of them, both on opposites sides of each other, and gracefully punched in the coords of their source transmissions. After a few tense seconds of waiting, both of them lit up at roughly the same time, materializing two holograms. The one on Yury's left had the hologram of a young man, he had pale features, blazing green eyes, sharp nose and silver-ish blonde hair. He was wearing a completely white version of the Admiral uniform with even more gild than Yury, along with longer, more defined epaulettes, he also had a golden eagle emblazoned in his overcoat, along with his family sigil on his left breast: several stars rougly making an outline of an arrowhead. He had an arrogant aura about him. The one Yury's right had a hologram of a petite girl on it. She also had pale features, while her clothes were a stark contrast to the blonde, she was wearing a custom-made nano-fiber Vantablack generals suit, her right pauldrom having a short scarf-like textile jutting out of her, while the left had silver epaulettes, she also had a short skirt, laying bare her slim and stocked legs. She had silver hair, heterochromic blue-green eyes, and had an oval face, while her left hand was clutching the gilded pommel of a rapier. Yury recognized them both, they were Grand Admiral Exalt Ferion and Brigadier General Satsuki Aki, respectively. "Grand Admiral, Brigadier General." he bowed, for it was customary in the presence of your superiors. Exalt's smirk seemed to have slightly widened, while Satsuki maintaned a neutral face.
"May the Founder bless you, Governer. I have come here personally to thank you for the allocation of more resources for the expedition. At this rate, we will be making landfall in just a few hours." Satsuki thanked him, Exalt nodding in affirmation. Yury was surprised and fearful, "O-oh, don't be! It was already an honor being personally visited by the heir of the Akis, much less with the Ferions in tow.". Exalt was about to say something, before Aki gave a glare to him, he reluctantly stopped, grumbling under his breath. "I assure you, Governer, it was my responsibility to reward those who helped me in my goals, and this visit is certainly enough. Don't you agree?" Yury got out of his bowing stance and tried to flatter her, "I thank you for you humblness, my Lady." He bowed once more, calculating in his mind to curry favor with the Highborn. "As much as we like to continue this, I'd rather be talking about the results of the test. Can we get to that now?" Exalt bluntly said, like an impetous child wading in at a heated argument. "Now, now, Ferion-kun, don't be so impatient, the intiricasies of this engagement are necessary in the long run." Aki scolded the young man in Japanese, to which he looked almost offended but then buckled under her glare. "As much as I disagree with Ferion, he is right in that we are limited in time." Yury retorted, making Exalt's ears perk up and get more happy. To be honest with himself, Yury only wanted to speed this up because he really wanted to continue his dubbed 'Starlight Session'.
Aki sighed in defeat, before continuing: "Ok, then. How are the results of the subjects to the herb?" Aki asked. "Wonderful, my Lady! It seemed to resurface repressed memories of sort, from what I can see from Kara, although I don't know about Mildenberg, they are truly ready for what is about to come." Yury enthusiastically responded. Exalt nodded. "Good," he continued. "continue monitoring the Subject Gamma and Delta, and do NOT interfere until directly ordered." Exalt sternly said. "Yes, my Lord." he saluted. "Good. Now, before we log off, please hold off on the Idols until things are at a calmer state, I wouldn't want to see you be inefficient in any way." ; "Yeah, I don't know how the hell you can like that." Exalt replied crassly, earning him a more bloody glare from Aki. "Anyway, I hope you can hold off. Are my instructions clear, Yury Myshelov?" Aki said without any hint of emotion, like one would note the weather. Yury mentally sighed, relieved that his "intricasies" won't be exposed to the wider world. Seeing that he hadn't responded for more than 6 seconds after their last word, he quickly fumbled a reply. "Y-y-yes, My Lad-I mean, my Lords." Yury fumbled.
A narrow and analytical stare from both of them later, and they finally logged off. Yury practically jumped at his chair, the red cushions quickly enveloping his body. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his sweat, despite there being Ac in the room. Svetlana opened the door with a hiss, quickly seeing the tired form of her boss. She smiled sweetly, before walking to him at a brisk pace. She quietly opened the cover and picked up a bottle of champagne, this time not laced by psychite. She poured two bottles of the crimson liqiud and shared one with Yury, weakly accepting it after a moments notice. They clinked he bottles.
"To a New Age."
"To a New Age"