173 day, Year 988, 41st Millennium
Hive Kathion
Upper Hive
Over the past week, Eric had met with Celeste daily to undergo rigorous training in dressing and social etiquette. Lately, the lessons had shifted toward the manners and posturing of the high nobility—teaching him how to walk and carry himself with grace while wearing the extravagant, cumbersome gala attire of the Spire-born.
He hated it. Some days, he was forced into outfits that resembled a heavy Victorian dress, weighing him down. He found the etiquette and fashion drills far more exhausting than actual combat training.
Wearing such clothes made movement difficult and uncomfortable. To make matters worse, Eric had to endure Celeste's strict criticisms. She drilled him relentlessly, determined to make him pass as a high-born noble living in the Hive Spire with effortless ease.
Today, he was once again forced to do something he despised.
"My Lord... I require your assistance. Could you please help me?" Eric spoke in a seductive tone, smiling and casting a sweet yet pleading look at Celeste, who sat across from him at a mock dinner table.
With his delicate poise, freshly styled hair, and a form-fitting red dress that accentuated his well-proportioned figure, Eric looked incredibly charming and alluring.
"Excellent... you've improved significantly. I truly like this persona," Celeste murmured, satisfied with Eric's performance. A subtle, cunning smile played on her lips—one that suggested she wasn't entirely to be trusted.
Eric breathed a sigh of relief. For the last three days, he had been practicing negotiation simulations and various methods of persuasion, including double entendres and provocative dialogue. To his own surprise, he was able to deliver these seductive lines and gestures with professional naturalism after only three days of training.
At first, Celeste was surprised that someone she initially viewed as a shy, insecure girl could act so naturally. However, she didn't dwell on it; she was simply glad she didn't have to teach him the basics.
Eric's "natural" talent actually stemmed from his vast collection of books—mostly adult fiction and romance novels. He was simply applying the dialogue of the characters he had read about to the current situation.
But still, Eric thought to himself. While he was glad to avoid Celeste's scolding, he felt a deep sense of shame and discomfort every time he had to act so provocatively. He hated the pretense and the seductive wordplay; it made him feel like he was losing his moral compass.
Eric leaned back in his chair, trying to relax. The luxurious red dress certainly made him look beautiful, but he found it far too revealing for his taste. He felt uneasy, knowing that if he moved too abruptly, the dress felt like it might slip off at any moment.
Celeste picked up her notebook and jotted down her observations. Eric noticed she did this every time they trained or tested him. He wondered if she had a hidden agenda.
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Celeste's posture changed, and her voice became softer. She began to engage him in small talk, asking about his favorite foods and his specific tastes in fashion. Celeste now appeared naturally elegant and refined. Her makeup and hairstyle perfectly complemented her tasteful outfit, giving her an aura of high nobility.
"Tell me truly... what kind of clothes do you actually like? I'm genuinely curious. Surely it isn't just those bland coats?" Celeste asked playfully, leaning in slightly and locking eyes with him.
Eric was caught off guard, immediately becoming nervous and trying to avoid direct eye contact.
Dammit... don't look down there, look at her face, Eric scolded himself as his eyes accidentally drifted toward Celeste's neckline. He felt he was at a disadvantage and feared she would reprimand him for his lack of manners.
"Um... I like coats. They're simple and practical for any situation," Eric answered truthfully, trying to keep his voice from trembling.
Celeste raised an eyebrow, smiled gently, and reached out to touch his shoulder. The mere contact made Eric freeze as if he were under a spell. After a moment of silence, Celeste burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! It seems you have a preference for women, don't you?" Celeste said, laughing heartily.
"Uh... yes," Eric replied, his voice shaking. Celeste withdrew her hand and returned to her usual professional demeanor. Eric's face flushed with a strange mix of embarrassment and shy confusion. He had never been asked such personal questions before.
In truth, even though he was in a female body and his personality had shifted slightly, his core preferences remained unchanged. His attraction to women was a fact.
"Don't be so shy. It doesn't matter whether you prefer men or women, as long as you serve and are devoted to the Emperor," Celeste encouraged him, treating the topic as if it were perfectly mundane—though in the rigid society of the Upper Hive, people rarely discussed such things unless it was relevant to work or intrigue.
"Thank you," Eric whispered, nodding. He let out a long breath, his nerves finally settling.
Heh, right... serve the Emperor, Eric thought with a dry smile, trying to look convincing. Truthfully, he didn't worship the Emperor; he merely played along to stay under the radar and survive. Still, there were times he prayed to the Emperor for mental fortitude... who knew? Perhaps the Emperor truly was listening.
Celeste relaxed into her chair, crossing her arms and looking at Eric with curiosity. After training "Erica" for seven days, she noted that the girl was shy and lacked confidence. However, she remained cautious; a recommendation from Vann and Drago meant this woman was far from ordinary.
Yet, Erica seemed too soft and innocent to be a product of the crime-ridden slums of the Lower Hive. Celeste had expected someone hardened, aggressive, or foul-mouthed. Instead, this Lower Hive girl was sensitive and strangely timid.
"Erica, let me ask... how did you survive in the Lower Hive?" Celeste asked, genuinely curious.
"Well... mostly I just tried to stay out of trouble and flee from violence... and I hid my body. It's dangerous to look like this in a place like that," Eric replied tiredly.
"Hmm, that makes sense," Celeste nodded. Eric didn't think much of it; he assumed she was just trying to get to know her student better. Perhaps they could actually become friends.
But wouldn't that just be a repeat of what happened with Vann? Eric hesitated. It wasn't that he didn't want friends, but trust was a rare commodity in this world. Having been betrayed once, opening up again was difficult.
"Do you have a lover?" Celeste asked, pushing further into his private life.
Eric stiffened. He was reluctant to share his personal history, but since he currently had no one, there was no reason to lie.
"No... I don't have anyone," Eric answered softly, feeling the awkwardness of the confession.
"And... have you ever had... any physical relationships?" Celeste pressed.
"No... never," Eric snapped back. In a world this dangerous and nonsensical, combined with his paranoid nature, finding a trustworthy friend was hard enough—let alone a lover.
"How strange... you truly are a rare find," Celeste remarked, her tone thick with double meaning.
Eric caught the implication and frowned. "Hey... I'm not like that. I'm still 100% pure," Eric blurted out, defending himself. He was annoyed she would assume he had traded his body for survival.
"You're quick on the uptake," Celeste said. "But isn't it strange? When I lived in the Lower Hive ten years ago, I wasn't nearly as beautiful as you, yet I was the 'prettiest' in my area. I was just a little girl surviving a brutal environment, and I ended up as a concubine to a gang leader in Sector Z. I was only twelve. And yet you, who are far more striking, claim to be pure? I find that... unusual."
Celeste spoke of her tragic past as if it were an everyday occurrence, ending with a teasing smirk at Eric.
Eric felt a pang of sadness for her. He knew how harsh life was in the Lower Hive, especially in Sector Z, where he had once stayed. A twelve-year-old forced into such a life was horrific... but in the Hive, it was a common tragedy.
"Tell me... how did you meet Vann? I want to know why he's so interested in you. We haven't spoken much since we parted ways five years ago," Celeste asked, a hint of sadness in her voice.
Eric smiled slightly. This was his chance to vent his frustrations by gossiping about his "benefactor."
"Alright... I'll tell you everything."
Eric recounted the entire story—from meeting Vann and Sister Celine to learning the truth during the Sanguinala festival, and even being kidnapped and dumped outside the hive city. Celeste listened intently, never interrupting.
"So that's the story, Celeste. He's a liar and a bad person," Eric grumbled, recalling how Vann had acted like a close friend when it was all just a performance.
"Hahaha! It sounds like he's taking a very special interest in you," Celeste laughed.
"How is that 'special interest'? Look what he did to me! He said if I want my freedom, I have to pay back every credit of my medical bills," Eric exclaimed, his voice rising in indignation. Just thinking about the debt made him want to cry.
"That's just how he is. You haven't known him long enough. If you were me, you'd understand his true nature," Celeste said casually.
"His 'true nature' is that of a cold-blooded liar," Eric retorted bitterly.
"Let me tell you a story... but first, we need snacks," Celeste said, leaving the room and returning with a bowl of bite-sized cookies or biscuits.
"You know, when I first met him, I was still a gang leader's concubine. He was a starving man who looked like he had fallen from nobility. His clothes were luxurious but tattered, but his eyes... they were filled with a fierce determination. A will to survive and reclaim his greatness," Celeste began, offering a biscuit to Eric. It was delicious.
Despite his hatred for Vann, Eric found himself wanting to know more about the man's past.
"I helped him at first, and he introduced himself as Vann Korvax, the younger brother of Valen Korvax. He told me he had been exiled—"
Eric, hearing that Vann was the actual brother of Valen Korvax, immediately choked on his biscuit.
Cough! Hack!
Eric pounded his chest until the crumbs flew out. He gasped for air, his face turning red.
"Sorry to interrupt... I just choked. Please, continue," Eric managed to say, trying to hide his shock. He had known Vann was influential, perhaps even a General, but this was far more significant than he had imagined.
Stay calm, Eric. Don't panic. You're just a pawn, a spy, and an assassin. You won't be involved in Hive Spire politics, Eric tried to reassure himself.
However, given his training in noble etiquette, it was blindingly obvious he was being groomed for exactly that. He hoped he would stick to spying and assassination—grim work, but surely better than the headache of high-level politics.
The Wasteland near Hive Kathion
"Hey! Maknik! Looks like a humie Warbuggy is heading this way. You got something for those gitz?" an Ork Commando whispered, poking his head out of a temporary bunker before ducking back down.
Their hideout was an old, massive sewer pipe filled with scrap metal and junk. Several Boyz were hunkered down inside.
In the middle of the scrap pile, Maknik the Mekboy was busy cobbling together a new weapon for the Waaagh! His workbench was a chaotic mess of junk, but from that mess, Maknik had forged a masterpiece of destruction.
"Does it actually work?" the Commando asked skeptically, eyeing the pile of scrap Maknik called a weapon.
"Of course it works! It's a perfectly kustomized Rockit Launchar!" Maknik boasted, lifting a blue metal tube from the pile. It was a crude pipe with a trigger and a handle slapped onto it.
"Wiv da kunnin' an' know-wot Mork gave me, dis is a work of art. It's painted blue, which means it's lucky. Every rockit fired is guaranteed to hit da target wiv a lucky bang!" Maknik explained. A crowd of Boyz gathered to watch.
The Commando shook his head; this Mekboy was clearly losing his marbles.
"An' da rockits are special, too. See da thrusters? Dey're painted red, so dey fly extra fast!" Maknik picked up a missile from the bench. It was painted red at the tail and bright yellow at the tip.
"Not only is it lucky and fast, it's got da best krumpin' power! Painted da tip yellow so it makes da biggest 'splosion! Da humies won't even leave a scrap, an' it'll be loud!" Maknik pointed to the yellow tip. The Boyz began to drool, eager to get their hands on it.
"Blue launcher for luck, red thrusters for speed, an' yellow tips for da boom! It's da ultimate weapon designed by Mork hisself!" Maknik cheered, hoisting the launcher high.
Immediately, the Orks began brawling over who got to use it. After a violent scuffle, one bruised Boy emerged victorious. He aimed the launcher at the approaching Warbuggy, a jagged grin revealing his sharp tusks. Confident the humie vehicle would be turned into scrap, he pulled the trigger.
BOOM!!!
Instead of the rocket launching, the entire device exploded violently. The blast nearly collapsed the ceiling and turned the surrounding Boyz into red mist.
"Looks like I shoulda painted da rockit blue too," Maknik muttered, looking at the wreckage.
Regardless, he saw it as a step toward true Orky wisdom. Once perfected, it would lead to the Greatest Waaagh!
But for now, they had to leg it before the humies with the big Dakka arrived to settle the score.