"Hmph, hmph, hmph…"
Kiya hummed a cheerful tune as she walked through the crowded streets of the lower hive. The rebellion had been crushed, its remnants purged by the Gene Stealers' relentless onslaught. The heretical plague that had ravaged the hive was no more.
Although she felt a twinge of disappointment at the abrupt end of her hunt, Kiya took pride in defending the Emperor's realm. Someday, she believed, the Emperor would recognize their devotion.
Carrying this hope, she passed through the throng of people. Her fellow Gene Stealers were distributing food, ensuring the lower hive's residents would no longer be tempted by the heretics' lies. However, Kiya's sharp eyes caught some individuals trying to cheat the system—collecting food multiple times by rejoining the line.
Her fingers twitched at the sight, a brief surge of bloodlust bubbling up within her.
No. Control yourself.
With a quiet sigh, she dismissed the thought and continued on her way. Discipline had been drilled into her, after all. Killing these people would serve no purpose now.
When she arrived at the makeshift council hall, she found Roy surrounded by other inner-circle members. They were huddled around a table, engaged in an intense discussion about their next steps.
Kiya quietly took a seat, her movements almost ghostlike. She wasn't particularly interested in political matters. Born and bred as a third-generation assassin, her skills lay in combat and killing. Strategy and governance were beyond her expertise.
If there were no battles to fight, no enemies to eliminate—what purpose would she have?
The thought unsettled her. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, listening as Roy spoke.
"We can't convert too many people," he said, his tone firm. "We only need to dilute the influence of our political rivals. Our primary goal should be to strengthen the loyalty of those who support us and reshape the Emperor's image within the hive."
"That's true," one of the other leaders agreed. "The concept of the 'Four-Armed God-Emperor' is… problematic. It undermines our credibility."
"And what about the industrial output of the lower hive?" another member asked. "The factories are overflowing with goods that should have been shipped to the Imperium. If we don't reopen the transport channels soon, it'll disrupt production even further."
"Exactly," someone else chimed in. "Several factories have already reduced their hours or shut down entirely. Workers are growing restless."
"They'll have to be patient," Roy replied, glancing at the map spread across the table. "The transport channels won't remain closed forever. But when they reopen, we'll need to be prepared to explain where the sudden surplus of food and medicine came from."
"What about Doraemon?" another member asked suddenly, shifting the topic.
At the mention of Doraemon, Kiya's ears perked up. She straightened in her seat, her violet eyes gleaming with interest.
"I believe he's still in the wallpaper room," Roy said. "The last time I saw him, he seemed to be investigating something."
"That's good," the council member nodded. "Kiya, why don't you go check on him? Make sure he's safe."
Kiya's face lit up at the suggestion. "Of course! I'll protect him with my life!"
She didn't need to be told twice. Leaping to her feet, she darted out of the council hall, moving with the speed and grace of a predator. The idea of protecting Doraemon filled her with a sense of purpose. After all, it would undoubtedly involve eliminating any threats that dared to approach him.
Arriving at the entrance to the wallpaper room, Kiya froze when she heard a muffled cry from within.
"Ah! This is bad! So bad!"
Her instincts kicked in. Drawing her bone blades, she kicked the door open and burst inside.
Doraemon turned at the sound, his round face filled with panic. "Kiya? What's going on? Why the dramatic entrance?"
"I heard shouting," Kiya said, scanning the room for danger. "Who's the enemy? What needs to be destroyed?"
"There's no enemy!" Doraemon waved his little hands frantically. "It's not that kind of problem!"
The blue robot gestured toward a strange, television-like device. "I was using this satellite monitor to track down someone—a girl named Israelle. She was helping me distribute medicine earlier, but I lost contact with her. Look!"
Kiya followed Doraemon's gaze to the monitor. The screen displayed a luxurious, opulent room—far more lavish than anything found in the lower hive. In the corner of the room sat a young girl, clutching a lifeless body.
"That's not the lower hive," Kiya said, narrowing her eyes. "Where is she?"
"It's the upper hive," Doraemon replied. "She's been captured. Her mother just passed away, and now she's all alone in enemy hands…"
Kiya frowned. "An uprising in the upper hive? That's rare."
"It's not just an uprising," Doraemon corrected. "It's a full-blown rebellion. Israelle said it was started by the youngest son of the Harkonnen family."
The name meant little to Kiya, but she understood the gravity of the situation. A rebellion in the upper hive wasn't just dangerous—it was unprecedented.
"I can't leave her there!" Doraemon declared, pulling a pink door from his pocket. "I'm going to save her!"
"Wait for me," Kiya said, stepping closer. "You'll need protection."
Together, they stepped through the Anywhere Door.
---
Israelle sat motionless, cradling her mother's cold body. Her tear-streaked face was a mask of despair. She barely noticed the pink door materializing in front of her.
Doraemon and Kiya emerged, the former waving cheerfully while the latter immediately scanned the room for threats.
"Don't be afraid!" Doraemon said. "We're here to help you."
Israelle's eyes flickered toward them, her expression hardening. "Help? You're just like everyone else, aren't you? You want to take over this world too!"
Kiya bristled, her bone blades twitching at her sides. "Watch your tone, child! This hive belongs to the Emperor!"
Israelle blinked, stunned. She had never heard of xenos swearing allegiance to the Emperor.
Doraemon stepped forward, his tone gentle. "Israelle, I need to know—what's happening here? Why is the upper hive at war?"
Israelle hesitated, clutching her mother's body tighter. "It's… the Harkonnen family. They're trying to seize control. They said my grandfather was a planetary governor, and that they need me to unlock some genetic verification system…"
Her voice cracked, the weight of grief and fear overwhelming her. "But it doesn't matter. My mother's dead… nothing matters anymore."
"Mom…" she whispered, burying her face in the lifeless body.
The corpse stirred.
"Gently… I can't breathe…"
Israelle's head shot up, her face pale with shock. Her mother's hand reached up, trembling, as her eyelids fluttered open.
"Ahhh!" Israelle screamed, scrambling backward.
Doraemon smiled sheepishly. "Oh, that's just the Time Reversal Blanket at work. I rolled her back to before her death. She's alive again."
Israelle stared, speechless, as her mother sat up, coughing weakly. "Next time… don't suffocate me with that thing…"