Chaos Empire: Heteromorph Revolution

Adoptive brother

“James and I walked deeper into the woods, where we spotted a short figure in green camouflage. James instantly raised his rifle, but I stopped him. Then, before our eyes, the figure stood up—and when we looked closer, it turned out to be Benjamin.

James, furious, marched up and punched him.

Benjamin shouted, ‘What the hell was that for?’

James snapped, ‘What are you doing dressed like a Sapient soldier? I almost shot you!’

Benjamin raised his claws and said, ‘I was digging a hole.’ The uniform was far too small for him, hanging off his body in a ridiculous way—James couldn’t help laughing and asked why he was digging.

Benjamin said, ‘I’m burying my treasures. I’ll keep them underground. If one day I’m still alive and remember this spot, I’ll find I’ve got myself a small fortune!’

We looked into the pit and saw a strange assortment of things—an old canteen, a diary, a pocket watch, some chocolate, even a silver ring. Some were war trophies, others were his own belongings. He even planned to bury the Sapient uniform he was wearing.

James joked, ‘You look like a dog burying bones.’

Benjamin shot back, ‘Better than you. I saw you stuffing a pink handkerchief into a tree hole. Which girl gave you that?’

James turned red. ‘That was from my mother!’

Benjamin didn’t believe him, and the two started fighting. They asked me to be the judge.

I said, ‘Whoever wins, wins,’ and didn’t try to stop them. I was bored anyway—so, whatever.

In the end, I joined in and fought them both.”

Richard finished his story and took a sip of wine.

Schwarz chuckled, then began to tell one of his own army stories.

“I don’t have anything quite so funny. My unit was constantly on the move because the fighting was fierce. We hardly ever rested.

“Once, under orders, we had to lodge in the homes of some Heteromorph civilians. Six or seven of us crammed into a tiny guest room.

That night, while I was on watch with Reinhardt and Anatoly, we heard strange noises coming from the kitchen. We figured it might just be the hosts—but better safe than sorry.

“Anatoly and I decided to take a look. Of course, walking made noise, and the moment we got close, the rustling stopped. The kitchen had only one door and two windows. Suddenly, we saw a small black shape leap out the window. I raised my g*n and fired—the bullet went straight through it.

“Then another shadow lunged at us. Anatoly panicked. Without thinking, he grabbed it with his hands—said he thought it bit him—so he squeezed, hard. We heard a terrible scream.

“It was too dark. Neither of us had good night vision, so we didn’t bother investigating. We woke the others and got out of there immediately.

“The next morning, we found out what had really happened: they were two Sapients the family had been hiding under the floorboards. They’d come out at night to steal food. The one I shot was dead. The other had his bones crushed by Anatoly.

“The hosts were, of course, executed for harboring enemies. But Anatoly was still shaken. He said, ‘Damn it, I thought they were two mutated rats.’

“I told him they were a bit too big for rats.

“He said, ‘Size aside, what’s the difference to us?’”

There were three men that laughed.

But to Aslan, who sat silently listening, the story was anything but amusing—it sent a chill through him. What unnerved him even more was how easily they could laugh about it.

Dinner was long over. They were drinking and chatting at the table, but Aslan hated this part most of all.

When they mentioned the dead Sapients, he had been watching the chairman of the Security Council closely—but the man’s face remained politely smiling, showing nothing else.

Why wasn’t he angry? How could he let the general talk about his dead kind so casually?

And how could they speak of it so lightly?

But Aslan had no right to question them—just like that poor Sapient didn’t.

At last, it was time to say goodbye.

“Honorable General Schwarz, Sir Müller,” Richard began, raising his glass.

“Thank you for taking the time, amidst your busy schedules, to visit my humble home. I hope tonight has been comfortable and pleasant for you. I truly believe this evening has been inspiring and delightful for all of us.

“I look forward to more occasions like this in the future—gatherings where we can meet informally, discuss the changes in our world, and share our visions and dreams. Allow me, with the utmost sincerity, to raise my glass one final time—to our friendship!

“Afterward, I’ll have someone escort you back to your residence. I hope we meet again soon. Good night, and may all go well.”

Richard toasted them, and everyone responded in kind. Finally, the evening came to an end.

“A small token of appreciation,” Richard said.

Along with the bags of dessert, servants brought in several champagne-colored boxes as parting gifts.

Aslan already knew what was inside. For the Sapient chairman, a standard gift: a pair of emerald cufflinks and a tea set from the Jiu Zhou Republic.

For General Schwarz, something far more special: an original manuscript by the Heteromorph writer Granit, and an old bullet casing—verified to be the last round ever fired from the pistol of the great Heteromorph leader, Gilbert Brichtlofen. The shell still bore his hand-carved mark: a “Star of Nightglow.”

Both guests thanked him. Then came the final formality—the farewell handshake.

Schwarz’s hand had completely healed by now, and Aslan, this time, was careful not to grip too hard.

To his surprise, the general didn’t either.

He watched the black car glide away into the night, disappearing down the street. Only then did Richard close the door, sealing everything outside.

Normally, that would’ve been the end of Aslan’s duties—a signal that he could finally wash up and rest.

But not tonight. Tonight was when the real drama would begin—when all the frustration and fury that had been suppressed would finally erupt.

Yet, strangely, Aslan felt calm. The anxiety and guilt had drained away, leaving behind a still, mirror-like coldness—like the night itself.

“Sit down,” Richard said first. They sat facing each other on the sofa.

The duke spoke first, his tone icy.

“Do you know what you did wrong?”

Aslan nodded but said nothing.

Then came the explosion.

“Aslan, what the hell is wrong with you? Why did you crush his hand—and refuse to let go? You almost ruined everything!”

“I didn’t mean to,” Aslan said.

“Of course you didn’t mean to! I know you were nervous and anxious—I was too! But does that mean you get to crush a man’s hand? You held on like you were addicted!”

“I wasn’t… addicted,” Aslan protested. “I don’t know what happened. You told me to use more strength, so I did. And besides, I just… don’t like him. I guess I wanted to compete with him instinctively.”

“I told you to be firm, not to—” Richard pressed a hand to his throbbing temple. “I’ve told you a hundred times—never act on emotion or impulse. It’ll trap you before you even realize it. Do you remember that?”

“I remember. But you were nervous too before he came, weren’t you? And even he said it wasn’t a big deal. You’re this worried because you admire him, don’t you? That’s why you’re taking his side!”

The words spilled out before Aslan could stop them—and he instantly regretted it.

Richard’s ears turned red—always a sign of anger and disbelief.

“His side? What on earth are you thinking?”

“The General himself said not to make a fuss over it—”

“Don’t you dare use his words as an excuse!” Richard’s voice rose sharply. “He says it’s a small matter, and you believe it’s a small matter?

“And you think I’m on his side? Do you even know who he is? He’s not like me or that Sapient bureaucrat. He commands an army.

The strength in his left hand alone is three or four times that of an ordinary Heteromorph! When he raised it, I nearly died of fright—I thought he was going to strangle you or crush your skull and throw you to the dogs! If you won’t think of me or the Kates family, at least think about your own life!”

“I’m sorry, but I just thought rationally… The damage was done, and judging by the General’s character, I doubt he’ll talk about it or hold it against us.”

“Oh, you think you understand him?” Richard scoffed. “You have no idea what kind of people the Granitans are! They don’t care about money, power, or status. If you get in their way, they’ll kill you—anytime, anywhere! They’re war maniacs, every one of them!”

That completely shattered Aslan’s assumptions. He didn’t like Schwarz, true—but what did Richard know that made him so certain, so contemptuous?

He asked. Richard seemed to realize he’d said too much and exhaled irritably.

“You don’t understand—of course you don’t. I never should’ve let you near them today. I should’ve sent you off—to Benjamin’s place, or anywhere far from here—”

“Stop talking about things that can’t be undone! Why is it so hard to just tell me the truth!?” Aslan burst out, shouting now.

“I invited them here because I thought I was buying us an escape route!” Richard roared back—the first time in over twenty years he’d ever cursed aloud.

“I didn’t want you involved in politics. Not because I look down on you, but because I don’t want you to end up like the rest of us! Don’t you think I know what’s wrong with this country? I just didn’t want you dragged into the swamp!”

“Politics isn’t about passion or grand speeches. Once you’re in, you play by their rules. No feelings—only cold interests. Say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, break one of their invisible rules, and someday you’ll be thrown out.

And ‘thrown out’ doesn’t mean retirement—it means death. Not just yours, but everyone’s—friends, family, the people who love you, the people you love!”

“Yes, the Kates family is in its prime right now—but who knows how long that will last? The King will grow old. The heir hasn’t been decided.

No one knows what the next reign will bring! You think I invited a Sapient and a foreign general here on a whim? Damn it, I did it so that if the day ever comes when we can’t stay in St. John’s anymore, we’ll at least have somewhere else to go!”

The revelations hit Aslan like thunder, but his mouth still moved on instinct.

“But Uncle Toulouse told me—”

“Benjamin Toulouse wouldn’t tell you the truth!” Richard cut him off. “He only said what I told him to say. And now I realize how stupid that was! I risked everything to protect you, and for what?

I thought you’d at least learn to restrain yourself… Maybe it’s my fault! I should’ve made you understand sooner—

“And you crushed the hand of a visiting general at a private dinner! You think that’s a small matter? You think just because he said there’s no need to apologize, it’s over?

There are no small matters in politics!

When you’re powerful, everything’s fine—but once you fall, every tiny mistake becomes enormous. You never know which small thing will become the straw that breaks the camel’s back!

“Even if Schwarz doesn’t care, that Sapient was watching. The General warned him, yes, but he’s not all-powerful—and those creatures will exploit anything, no matter how petty or filthy, to advance themselves! Do you know what would happen if word got out? That on our territory, you insulted a Granitan general?”

Aslan’s heart filled with sorrow and resentment, and before he knew it, he blurted out, “Why tell me this only now? If I’m such a burden, why adopt me in the first place?”

“My God,” Richard said, laughing in disbelief, “when did I ever say I regretted adopting you? Why do you think I kept that ruby that day? I knew then that you’d be my responsibility for life. I wanted to give you a family! Have I really failed even at that, in your eyes?”

“No…” Aslan said quickly, shaking his head.

“Sometimes, I just don’t know how to deal with you.” Richard’s tone softened, pain in his brow. “I can’t read your thoughts anymore. I don’t know what you’re thinking, or where you’re headed. There’s so much I don’t understand… but I’ll always welcome you, always listen.

“You used to talk to me—you’d lean against me and call my name. You were so gentle then… What happened to that boy? God, what did I do wrong?” He buried his head and gave a bitter laugh.

A suffocating silence filled the room. Only their breathing echoed faintly in the still air.

It was the kind of silence that weighed like a stone on the chest—pressing, unrelenting, making it hard to breathe.

They were only a few steps apart, but it felt like a gulf had opened between them—one that words could no longer cross. It wasn’t just silence; it was the breakdown of connection itself, amplifying their pain and confusion.

Time crawled forward like sand through a clogged hourglass—too much sand, too narrow an opening, nothing flowing freely, just like their hearts.

After a while, Richard finally calmed down.

“You really want to understand politics?” he asked quietly. “It’s not a game. Think carefully.”

“I already have,” Aslan said firmly.

The duke exhaled a long sigh.

“Then before they return to their country, we’ll pay them a visit. You’ll go with me—to apologize, sincerely, and make amends.”