Day 280, Year 986, 41st Millennium
Upper Hive
In the refugee camp area near St. Lucia Church
Eric sat alone in the most isolated corner of the camp. He had a strangely stressed expression on his face. He frowned slightly and pursed his lips into a straight line.
He needed something to relieve his stress. He was beginning to feel like the top wasn't any better than the bottom, just safer. He untied his hair and took out a comb from his pocket to comb it a bit. Although it didn't relieve his stress much, it did help him relax. He didn't know if he had PTSD, because he'd almost been raped by that weird, bearded creature. Plus, there were guys wearing similar armor that appeared, which was making him extremely scared and stressed. What would he do if he were one of them? He had no weapons. In the meantime, he had to think about what he would do next. Should he endure it or find a way out?
But finding a way out here was no different than suicide, because it was relatively safe, with free food and water, as well as medical care. And if he escaped, it would be like making Sister Celianne and Vann's help meaningless. And outside, it was a war zone. He could die miserably, or he could be branded a heretic and shot. Why was it so hard to choose?
Eric sighed slightly, thinking about what he had in his pocket. He had only a few things, really. There were only a few things: the check he'd gotten from Raoul's corpse, some basic necessities like soap and shampoo, and a bandage he'd probably have time to wash. He had nothing else. His gun had been confiscated, including that big plasma pistol. Honestly, not having a gun made him feel completely naked and unsafe. He could barely defend himself in close combat. What if something happened?
He'd have to struggle for his life if it really happened.
Don't worry about it now. You just have to endure it. It'll get better. Eric told himself, taking a deep breath before using his remaining left hand to clumsily tie his hair back and pocketing the comb. Or maybe he should sign up for a PDF. It might seem dangerous, but maybe he'd feel safer.
This kind of thinking was completely unthinkable. But if he applied to be a PDF, he might get his gun back, and if he performed well, he might get a promotion and live a more comfortable life.
But this kind of work was too risky and stressful.
He had his own goals. His goal was to survive and find a way to improve his life. He didn't want to die prematurely, with his life remaining unchanged. Eric looked at his right arm, which was in a cast. The doctor said it should be removed in about a week. That was good. Eric thought for a moment. Maybe applying to be a PDF would be a good idea. And then he decided that if he recovered, he would apply to be a PDF.
After all, he still had some shooting skills, especially with a pistol.
And if they don't recruit, then they won't pass the criteria, or is there a shortage of manpower? No, this is a giant slum, so there should be enough people. Plus, it's an industrial factory, and he'd heard that they were producing weapons there, so there should be enough.
Never mind.
Right now, he had to help out a little at the camp to make himself feel less useless, and wait until the bathroom was least crowded. But before he could get up, Vann appeared again, and Eric was scared and worried he might be being stalked.
This kind of thing was terrible, even though he was in male form. Now, he was in female form, which was even worse.
"What are you stressed about? We should be happy now. The Space Marines are here to help us!" Vann said, his voice filled with encouragement, hope, and excitement. Eric didn't know what a Space Marine was, but he guessed they were those big, black, heavily armored soldiers. At least he had a name for them. Space Marines, that arrogant name.
"What's a Space Marine, anyway? I've never heard of them before," Eric asked curiously. After all, being knowledgeable about things was a great thing in a future world he knew little about, except for the things he encountered frequently. Vann's face grew excited and frantic, like a religious figure about to spread his faith. It truly surprised him, but he didn't say anything.
"I don't know much, actually. But what I do know is that they're the Emperor's angels. They're genetically engineered and enhanced warriors with superhuman strength and speed. They'll come to our aid in our darkest hour...and they're just legends. Besides, I've seen them up close now!!!!" Vann said in a voice that now sounded like a real fanboy. He had the air of a fan of his favorite singer.
"Thanks for the information," Eric replied. Okay, in this future, there are engineered soldiers. Wow...okay, that makes a lot of sense. He wouldn't care much if they weren't interfering with him.
"So, any good news?" Eric took a chance and asked Vann, hoping he'd get some good news. The civilians were barely getting any news, which was both a terrible and a great way to control the crowd. Vann was quiet for a moment before answering.
"Good news? The good news is that we have six Space Marines who will help us." The bad news is, the heretics are attacking harder now...really harder, in my opinion. If this continues, our defenses will be defeated in no time," Vann said, sighing slightly. Eric felt even more depressed when he heard that. But whatever, if it gets out, he'll be ready to flee. Eric looked at Vann and said,
"Thanks for the information, but next time, you don't have to worry about it," Eric said, his voice tired.
"Haha...you'll get used to it," Vann chuckled before walking away. Eric didn't understand how Vann could laugh at this kind of thing, but whatever...maybe praying and pleading with the gods the locals worship, like the Emperor of Mankind, might help him...but he didn't know how to pray in that language.
He should go see Sister Celianne.
Three hours later
Okay, it seems that Sister Celianne isn't available. She's tending to an injured soldier. Eric is doing what he loves most, even though he doesn't get the chance to do it often: taking a relaxing shower.
Eric stopped outside the shower room, his eyes fixed on the metal door. He took a deep breath, trying to muster up his courage. He wasn't sure if everyone had left by now, or else he wouldn't be able to shower.
"Oh, Eric... just go take a shower. There's nobody here," he muttered to himself, using his usual casual language. But as he stepped inside, his footsteps felt like they were locked in place.
Heavy footsteps came from the side. A group of women in PDF uniforms, but their upper garments were gone, leaving only their tight, sweaty tank tops that revealed their toned abs and slightly muscular arms. The torn clothes and arm bandages told the story of hard work and struggle. They walked in groups of three. The vanguard averted their gaze, not entirely unfriendly, but with a playful glint in their lips.
"Oh, look! That fresh-faced rookie must be from upstairs," one of them said, chuckling hoarsely. Her braids swayed in time with the others' words. She chuckled and approached. Eric felt himself shrink, despite his appearance suggesting the opposite. His hands clenched tightly into the hem of his shirt, feeling nothing but a strange heat rising from his chest. He didn't want to cause trouble, and the whole thing about him looking like aristocrat was ridiculous. Even though he knew vaguely that most middle-class people disliked aristocrats, did he look like a noble or a young lady? He was just pretty.
He wanted to say something, to let them know he wasn't aristocrat, not from the upper class they hated, but the words stuck in his throat.
"What's your name?" one woman asked. Eric responded immediately.
"Hello, I'm Erica, and I'm not from the upper class," Eric replied in a soft voice.
"Erica? What a sweet name," the other pretended to tilt her head and scan her from head to toe, undisguised. Eric frowned, trying to regain some of his confidence, the adaptability he'd had all his life. 'Sure, just keep quiet.' It'll pass.' But inside, he felt a strange tremor as his gaze landed on his neck and arms, reflecting the toned muscles and cuts from overuse.
Why was he feeling embarrassed again? Why did it always have to be like this? But he was still Eric, even in a woman's body.
"Thank you," he said softly, trying to keep his tone even and unassuming, so as not to attract attention. It was harder than he thought, so much so that he had to bite the corner of his lip, which hurt slightly. The women chuckled softly, but didn't use force. They just got in his way, teasing him, tripping him up, but doing nothing serious.
"Okay, okay, how can I let you pass so easily?" One of them sneered, reaching out to playfully touch a lock of Eric's white hair. The touch made Eric stiffen. He felt like he was being watched by a whole class of eyes.
His mind wandered to the Arbites warning. If something happened, the Enforcers might come and arrest everyone indiscriminately. Yes, that was his biggest fear.
Finally, Eric took a deep breath, lowered his head slightly, and tried to find some space between them.
"Excuse me... I'm just taking a shower, really." His voice tried to remain calm, not wavering. He tried to be sarcastic to himself. "That's good, Eric. Just try to keep quiet... don't draw attention."
The women stared at him for a moment, then one of them moved to give way with a half-smile, teasing but not truly hurtful. They let him pass. Eric hurried past as quickly as he could. He ran his fingers to his neck and stared at the vague reflection in the metal. Blue eyes, white hair, a faint smile he'd never intended to have on his face.
At least now, they weren't bothering him anymore. Eric walked to the shared bathroom, which had a shower mounted on the ceiling. He went to a corner and turned the water on slightly.
Eric was thoroughly enjoying this moment. The shower made him feel so good, so good. But after a while, he noticed someone walking in. His heart was beating so fast he almost lost sight of himself. He wanted to scream every second, yank the door open and run away from the laughter and stares. But this was a shared bathroom, and he had no choice but to endure it.
The three women he'd met in front of the bathroom entered unhurriedly, as if it were a routine. They removed the armbands, untied the waist rope, and slid under the spray, ignoring Eric, who was practically melting in the steam. One giggled in amusement at his awkwardness, while the other offered a hand to wipe his shoulder, looking at him with more affection than anything else.
He was practically bleeding... Ohhh!!!! What the hell! He'd never seen anyone naked before... He had to keep his composure, Eric told himself... He'd be moved... Uh... Okay, he'd admit it. He liked those muscles and chest, as well as those buttocks and thighs. And all three of their bodies... looked quite strong, indicating they were soldiers, which was... mouth-watering. But he wouldn't show it. It was so embarrassing. Eric even turned away so others wouldn't see his embarrassment.
"You're so embarrassed," one of them said in a deep voice, teasingly but without a hint of serious teasing. Eric gritted his teeth, forcing a smile that didn't quite sink in. He wanted to explain, "I didn't choose to be here. I didn't mean to embarrass anyone," but those words were swallowed hard. He could only keep his voice as low as possible.
"H... Can you give me a moment?" His voice was soft and even, as if he was trying to keep everything as smooth as possible.
They laughed again, but it wasn't an aggressive laugh. They were teasing rather than teasing. Every move they made revealed that life in the Lower Hive required a certain toughness and coldness. But even with such a little teasing, they had a soft side, a part Eric hadn't expected to see.
"Don't be so embarrassed," one of them said in a slightly playful tone. Eric blushed and quickly denied it.
"No!" Eric denied it in a flustered, embarrassed tone.
After a while, they showered as usual, acting as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, Eric was almost screaming inwardly with embarrassment. He tried to hold back his blush. He hurriedly scrubbed the soap even faster, and he wanted to get out of there.
Eric tried to concentrate on showering as fast as he could with one arm, but the warm water running down his back didn't help calm him down at all. Instead, his heart was beating so hard it felt like it was going to burst out. And when one of the PDFs, three women stopped behind him, Eric almost flinched and slipped.
"Let me help you. Your arm's broken, isn't it?" a tall woman's deep voice said in a soothing tone, before her hand gently touched Eric's back. He felt a slight pressure on his back.
Eric froze, his heart pounding so hard he almost "got a nosebleed." Of course, he didn't actually have a nosebleed, but he couldn't help but feel nervous. 'Ouch...damn it! I didn't ask for this... I'm going to faint...' he muttered to himself, blushing so hard he could feel the heat spreading to his ears. The other two women beside him chuckled softly, sounding like they were watching a small kitten acting scared of the rain.
It wasn't a malicious joke, but rather a hint of amusement at his awkwardness, which he tried to avoid looking at them.
"Look at you... you're so embarrassed you're frozen," one woman said teasingly, a hint of laughter at the end, as if teasing a close friend.
"That's so cute. Is it always like this or just sometimes?" The other's voice was gentle and amused, emphasizing the word in a friendly tone.
"I... I... just... never shower with anyone," Eric said tensely, his voice shaking slightly. Polite and clearly shy, every word he'd ever spoken seemed to melt away in the steam of the room, but the PDF who was rubbing her back was unexpectedly kind.
"Don't be so tense. You're not the first we've helped, Erica. And around here, public showers are common. You should get used to it." The woman carefully soaped his back, her tone friendly and firm, like advice from someone who'd been through it all. She didn't touch him in an awkward way, but just being so close made Eric feel his shyness rise to the ceiling.
"Oh... if I were a guy, I'd definitely be jealous." He gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to compose himself as the other two giggled.
"Don't press too hard." "You'll go into shock before lunch," the other said, his voice slightly sarcastic, but with a playful, reasonable edge, like those soldiers who tease their friends when they're worried.
"You don't really have to help," Eric blurted out. His tone was dark and fearful, but he was trying to protect his small pride.
"I can see you're having a hard time," the other, who was washing his hair, said in a rough, friendly tone. His words were direct but not harsh, and his sympathy was clear.
"Broken arm and standing alone in the shower seems a bit too harsh." Although her words sounded harsh and military, there was a hint of gentleness underneath.
And Eric could feel it...and blushed even more.
Finally, the woman stopped rubbing his back and would go get his shampoo bottle every day before washing his hair.
"Okay, we won't hurt you. Just calm down and relax," she said softly. Eric sighed softly in relief, but the three of them still looked at him like they were watching a young girl on her first day of school. He had to admit that having someone else wash his hair felt amazing.
"Okay... at least I made it through another round... but if this happens again, I'll really have to dive into the ground and escape," he sarcastically muttered to himself. He then finished showering as fast as a human could without slipping and hitting his head. Meanwhile, he plucked up the courage to chat with them, getting to know them better.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
It seemed like even after he finished showering, they'd still be able to talk to him. Okay, when they actually talked, Eric found them very friendly. But he hoped it wouldn't be like Raoul, because he still hadn't learned his lesson.
"Just stand there. I'll tie this for you," Rosa, one of the three female PDF soldiers, reached out to fasten Eric's belt on his pants, since he couldn't do it right now.
Eric blushed slightly, but tried not to look too nervous. "Okay... Eric, hold on. It's just changing clothes. Even though he thought about it, his ears still felt hot.
"Sorry... I can do it myself," Eric muttered softly.
"Oh, it's okay. Your left arm isn't very useful. It'd be hard to dress yourself," Maria laughed, patting him lightly on the back.
"We always help our friends, especially the injured," she added with a smile.
"Well... thanks," Eric sighed resignedly. They helped him straighten his shirt, tied his now-white hair into a sloppy ponytail, and fastened his bra back. Eric felt more like he was in the cheerleading locker room than in the harshly trained military unit of the Hive world.
As they got dressed, they chatted.
"Erica, you look so pale. What area of Mid Hive have you been in?" Maria asked curiously, tilting her head to examine his skin tone.
"...upper Hive? "I'm... not from the Upper Hive," Eric answered honestly, but the three girls turned to look at him in unison.
"Oh? Where are you?" Rosa asked. Eric pursed his lips slightly, but answered honestly, because lying wouldn't help and he expected a reaction like that to be scorned by those from below.
"... I'm from the Lower Hive," Eric replied. The room fell silent for a moment before the three looked at each other and laughed softly, not with disdain but with a mix of surprise and amusement.
"Really? But you don't look like someone from below," Maria said, her voice slightly puzzled.
"Yes, you're fairer than me!" Rosa said in a higher tone.
"And you speak so... politely," Livia simply smiled friendly and shrugged.
"Well... I try to look unthreatening. I'd get kicked out easily. "Oh," Eric replied with an awkward smile.
The three girls laughed again.
"Oh, no way. Or are we the people around here not going to take anything easy except for the Arbites?"
"Except for the suspects and the drunks."
"And the gangs that were set up in this area to cause trouble..."
Eric chuckled softly. Okay, once he got to know them, they were incredibly friendly.
"So how did you get up here?" Rosa asked again.
"...It's a long story." Eric raised a good, usable hand to gently cover his face.
"Oh...well, you're lucky you made it out alive. Otherwise, you'd be dragged into the slave trade or some gang down there."
Eric's face immediately fell.
"Thank you for your concern."
"It's nothing," Maria shrugged. "Will you stay with us for now?"
Eric nodded, but he still felt a hint of trepidation in his heart.
I hope everything stays this safe...
Once everything was settled, Rosa stepped back and stood to admire the results.
"Done! Erica... You look so much prettier," Sora said proudly, basking in the hairstyle she'd given Eric. Eric smiled awkwardly, but genuinely.
"Thank you, Rosa. Now... tell me about your story," Eric plucked up the courage to ask the three of them. They all chuckled before finding a seat and getting to know each other better.
And then, Eric realized how good it felt to gossip about someone he didn't like, along with others who shared the same sentiments. And the people who were being gossiped about were none other than those three arbiters.
_____________________________________________________
A narrow door creaked open on its old hinges. Eric pushed it open cautiously. The musty smell of damp cloth and damp metal overlapped with the scent of old, worn soap. The room was small and cramped. The triple bunk bed was against the wall, the railing slightly bent. The top bunk was a thin mattress, and it seemed his other roommates hadn't returned, or perhaps even disappeared.
His right arm was in a cast, requiring careful thought for every move. Eric slowly stretched his left arm to grasp the railing, stretched his foot up the step, and tried to pull himself up slowly. Cold sweat formed his forehead, from the extra effort he had to put in and no one else would help him.
"Uh... sigh!" he sighed to himself, staring blankly at the flickering ceiling. The tug on his left shoulder caused a slight sting, but he didn't complain. This wasn't the time to be too conspicuous.
Using only one arm, he climbed to the top bunk. Eric nearly fell when the metal railing shook. He gripped the edge of the bed tightly, his left hand trembling slightly, but he finally found a suitable angle to pull himself into the thin, narrow mattress. He collapsed powerlessly, face down on the old pillow. His other hand gripped the cast as if to prevent it from moving.
His chest pressed against the mattress, making him feel a little suffocated, but never mind.
"Okay, I know this position isn't comfortable for my chest," he muttered in the same sarcastic tone. But no one could hear him except the stained walls and the dripping water. Lying on his stomach made his breathing heavier and his chest pressed down, making it uncomfortable. But he was too tired and lazy to change positions.
He couldn't stay in this position forever. Eric rolled over and lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about what he'd encountered today. He'd encountered a modified soldier in armor he wasn't sure if he was the same guy, and three female friends who were willing to shower together and chat with him. It was a wonderful relief. He should have made more friends, but the current battle situation was worrying. He had to be prepared for any situation. Anyway, he was happy today, so he went to bed early, hoping for a better tomorrow.
______________________________________________
Vann walked along the path with the steady demeanor of a regular soldier, but his mind was still on the conversation he'd had with "Erica" a few minutes earlier. The white-haired woman from the Under Hive he'd first met when he'd traveled to the church with Sister Celianne. He hadn't initially trusted her, but as time went on, he'd become less suspicious of her and treated her better.
Yes, he'd softened his demeanor, smiled,
spoke kindly, and encouraged her like a younger sibling he needed to take care of.
But deep down, he still didn't fully trust her.
He walked past the piles of weapons crates.
His hand unconsciously tightened its grip on the gun sling.
No one from down below would survive without "something" on them...
Erica...a woman so shy she could barely look anyone in the eye, spoke politely and acted considerately. He could tell she wasn't comfortable with her own body. It was very strange, very strange, for someone down there, living under such barbarism, to be ashamed of her own body even though she wasn't dressed in anything out of place.
Yet, every time he looked into those blue eyes, he saw something that didn't quite match her image.
A deep suspicion, a heightened sense of caution, a quietness that seemed more thoughtful than it spoke. He had seen that look before. It was the look of someone who had survived something terrible, but it had also left emotional scars.
He passed a few soldiers discussing the Western Front, their voices becoming the background of his increasingly heavier thoughts.
She didn't seem like a bad person, but the people from there...no one could be trusted easily, no matter how cute, shy, or polite they appeared.
What surprised him was her demeanor, like someone who had just been thrown into an unknown world.
She was both scared and stressed, but she tried not to seem troubled.
But sometimes it seemed like...the demeanor of someone who had been comfortable in a comfortable place, quietly trying to "adjust" to her new surroundings.
Vann took a deep breath and looked down the corridor leading to the camp's main headquarters. Part of him wanted to believe she was just another unfortunate girl, but another immediately objected. He had never seen such kindness in this world before.
He thought back to the first time he'd seen her. The rotten blood and dust. The things on her body, the injuries, the gun, and the rather enviable fact that she was being carried by Sister Celianne.
He didn't say it out loud, but his heart was clearer than anything else. The loudspeaker called for all officers in the area to report for reinforcements.
Vann hurried up, but before he could push open the door to headquarters, he glanced back in the direction he'd separated from Erika a moment earlier. His expression wasn't one of displeasure, but of a deep, worried look he didn't want to admit.
He would keep his eyes on her...until he was certain of her identity or whether she was a heretic. When he arrived in a room with high-ranking officers, some of whom were bishops and high-ranking church priests, his attire was strikingly different from the others. Judging by the position of his attire, or even his appearance, he should have been a mere officer, not one who would join in such a high-ranking officer's plot. But it was just a uniform that allowed him to disguise himself, and he survived the assassination attempt. He narrowly escaped, until he met Sister Celianne and was able to travel safely here. It's also easier to wash and remove than his previous uniform, which is quite extravagant, opulent, and expensive enough to make ordinary people comfortable for a lifetime.
"Everyone's finally here, huh? The situation is dire now. What should we do?" A senior officer opened the meeting. Vann just glanced at the report. The report on their force's efficiency was pdf. It showed how well they had resisted the mutant and heretical forces so far. It was truly pitiful. And didn't the other nobles even think about using their accumulated weapons? He couldn't help but think that if those stingy people had given them all their supplies, the war would have ended long ago. He took a deep breath to suppress his anger.
"Why should we be afraid of them? We already have Space Marines. They're the Emperor's angels. We're sure to win!" A high-ranking officer said, suddenly furious. He was furious at their stupidity. He knew which clans and houses they belonged to, and he wasn't that afraid.
"Don't be stupid...they're the Emperor's angels, but they can die." "... Don't you see? They're flesh and blood just like you. Don't think like that. Use your time to think about more useful things," Vann snapped. He was well-educated, he knew what was what, what the limits of each were, and now he had to explain to these idiots what they should do. But it seemed there was another idiot.
"You dare insult the Emperor's angel? ... You're a complete heretic!!!" Bishop shouted angrily, pointing a finger at his face. This made Vann lose his patience a little.
"Don't you see?... Don't be so ignorant, Bishop. Actually, we could win without space marines. But does anyone listen to me? No one... This planet is a major industrial planet. We produce guns, tanks, and armored vehicles. Where did all that go?... The governor of this planet is afraid of not being able to pay taxes in time and won't let us use those supplies to fight the heretics and mutants. If we used that tax, we would have won long ago," Vann replied, his emotions slightly growing. The entire room fell silent.
"Thank you for your opinion, General Vann Korvax, but I don't think Lord Valen Korvax would agree with that idea," one of the officers said. Hearing him called by his full name and surname made him slightly angry. He had long since cut off all ties with that damn family.
"Don't ever call me by that last name again. I have no connection to that damn family. If you don't stop, or if you don't remember, and keep doing this, I'll cut out your tongue and make you a servitor!!! And I won't listen to that damn brother," Vann said loudly. The room immediately fell silent before he sat back down, his expression calm, and immediately resumed the meeting.
"I think we've wasted enough time on nonsense... Let's get back to it. Fuck the governor of the planet. I'm ordering the tanks collected for tax purposes. Bring them all. We can produce them and send them back later. The safety of the workers is our priority."