"A Quantum Skill that nobody knows of?!" Arthur yelled. He was sitting at the head of the table in the strategy room. His attire included leather black boots and a satin silver suit with a perfectly tied tie. He pulled some of his long golden curls away from his field of view with his left hand where he wore the silver bracelet of three Quantum Engines, his key. His veins were throbbing in his temples. He wasn't happy. His dark blue eyes burned with a cold fury. "What the fuck am I paying for, Alfred?! He could have killed us all and we couldn't do anything to stop him!"
"And he took the princess..." added Marshall, the prime minister. Marshall, a man of sharp features, tanned skin, and impeccably tailored suits. He shifted uncomfortable, in his seat, eyes darting between the king and Alfred, worried, as one of his hands wen through his short, neatly combed black hair, which accentuated his pale complexion. Despite his position, he was far from athletic, his physique more suited to the political arena than the battlefield. He possessed no Quantum key, his power residing solely in his political skills.
"And he killed Alexander… Damn it! He could have just taken Elle and left, but he had to kill Alexander!" The king was truly angry.
Alfred nodded solemnly, his face a mask of professional calmness. Alfred, the man with the neatly trimmed beard, olive skin, and piercing gray eyes, maintained his composure, despite the clear tension in the room. His brown hair was receding slightly, but his athletic build spoke of a man who had once been a soldier. He possessed a Tier 1 Quantum key, its faint purple glow barely visible beneath his tailored suit.
The room was silent for a moment, the only sound was the screen where a crackling fireplace was on display. Then, the king slammed his fist on the table, and most couldn't believe that the table just withstood a hit from his powerful body. He was lean, athletic, but all his power came completely from his key, and it was vast enough to have granted him the indisputable position of emperor. "I know he was working for the Spanish Empire! But why take Elle? Was he trying to prevent me from becoming emperor?!"
"We can't tell, sire," Alfred answered. "But we will find him and the princess! You have my word," he bowed.
The king exhaled, long and loud. "You keep repeating the same, but it's been two days and all that you know is half of what I know," Arthur added. "Did you know that they were seen in Neo Switzerland?"
"What?" Alfred widened his eyes, his gaze shifting to his advisor, seeking support and trying to find betrayal in his eyes. He saw nothing; his advisor was as clueless as himself.
"They announced Elle as his wife, and apparently he is a Praetorian," Arthur said. "Yes, one of the ancient and powerful Praetorians no less… I never imagined they could be that powerful…"
"We... we didn't know, sire..." Alfred let out.
The king sighed again. Then exploded: "You are but a useless piece of garbage, Alfred!"
"We're working on it, my king," Alfred said, trying to remain calm. "We'll find him. Both of them."
The king leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "No, you won't," he said.
"Sire?" The chief of the intelligence office, Alfred, tilted his head to the side, confused.
"You are nothing but pathetic incompetence," Arthur said, lethal. "Guards. Give him a quick death."
The guards moved swiftly, but Alfred, with fear, reacted faster. With a frantic, almost desperate gesture, a shimmering shield of Quantum energy materialized around him. The guards opened fire. A hail of bullets ripped through the air, the deafening explosions of gunshots echoing through the room. Sparks flew as the projectiles slammed against Alfred's shield, a futile attempt to penetrate the shimmering barrier. "Your majesty, I implore you to reconsider!" Alfred begged, his voice shaking, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. "We need every asset we have to find the man who stole your daughter and killed Lord Alexander. Allow me to redeem myself!"
The emperor's eyes narrowed, tightening his jaw. "You dare to defy my will?" His voice was calm, but the rage burning in his dark blue eyes was immense. "It seems..." he paused, his tone dropping to a chillingly low register, "everybody has forgotten who I am..." A wave of oppressive silence fell over the room, the air growing heavy. "Remember..."
He raised his hand and clenched his fingers in a fist. As he did it, Alfred's shield cracked easily beneath his telekinesis, and he was squeezed by the immense force which turned him into a spherical paste of blood and bones that exploded in every direction when the king released his grip.
The room fell silent as the guards stepped back, their faces pale. The king snapped his fingers, and the gory remains of Alfred, spread over the white marble tiles, disappeared, leaving no trace. The fireplace crackled on, as if to fill the void left by the man's death.
"I despise incompetence," Arthur said with a cold voice. "From this moment on, the empire is under the absolute control of me, no more council. My word is law."
Marshall, still shocked by the fate Alfred suffered, nodded, swallowing his fear. "Yes, sire. We will find someone capable of tracking the princess."
"I'm tired of words, Marshall. I don't see you running to fulfill my will," the king said, his eyes lingering on the spot where Alfred had stood. "Perhaps I should inspire you to do your work?"
Marshall's throat tightened, but he knew better than to argue. He stepped back and was ready to leave the room, his mind racing, but the king continued.
"Marshall, I want the Praetorian. I want him serving my throne," the king added.
"Your word is my law, my emperor," Marshall responded, bowing, and then rushed out. He had to find someone who could locate the princess' kidnapper and bring back both to his emperor. But who could possibly stand against such a powerful being capable of rendering everyone, including the emperor, powerless?
Marshall recalled the horrified face of Alfred before being crushed as he stormed through the corridors of the Palais Impérial de Justice, his footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls. As he walked, he considered his options. There were few who could help him. He needed one of those professionals, someone who knew the shadows better than anyone else.
He had to go to "Le Jardin des Délices" and talk to Ron, the owner of the club. He would know; he would help Marshall save his neck from the wrath of the new emperor of the French Empire.
"Take me to Le Jardin des Délices," he told his driver.
"Mrs. Mallory won't be happy, sir," Thierry, his driver, reminded him.
"This isn't for pleasure, you fool! The emperor just executed lord Alfred and we will be next if I don't fulfill his will," he replied.
"Apologies, sir," the handsome and almost pretty boy replied.
"Just drive," Marshall said.
Thirty minutes later, Marshall arrived at the opulent entrance of Le Jardin des Délices. The limousine pulled up to the ornate entrance, where polished marble columns framed the doorway, and the soft glow of crystal chandeliers spilled out onto the cobblestone street. Inside, the air hummed with the murmur of exclusive conversations and the clinking of champagne glasses. Marshall stepped out, the doorman bowing respectfully, and entered the lavish club.
The beautiful waitress opened the door for him, the neon lights and the music reverberating. He moved through the tables, his eyes drawn to the expert maneuvers of the young and beautiful pole dancers. He had tasted most of them, especially the blonde ones who reminded him of Elle. He reached the back, where Ron sat behind his expensive desk, flanked by bodyguards. Ron, a mountain of a man who favored tailored white suits and Italian shoes, knew every secret in the city.
"Marshall," Ron said with a sneer. "It's been a while. What brings you here so soon, maybe another young blonde?"
Marshall ignored the jab. "I need your help, Ron. I'm looking for someone who can track down the man who took the princess."
Ron leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Ah... that's quite the quest you've got there. I don't think anybody would dare to face the man who rendered everybody, including the emperor, powerless, Marshall."
"She was kidnapped, Ron! She's with him against her will!" Marshall replied. "The princess would never give herself to a lesser man!"
"I do agree with those words. She would never give her perfect body to an ordinary man," he said, raising a finger. "But that wasn't an ordinary man, and she was a virgin eager to explore and lose her virginity."
"I'd get you executed for such disrespectful words!" Marshall warned, his voice filled with poison and jealousy.
"She is a woman right now," Ron continued. "Look for yourself."
He tapped some keys on his keyboard and then turned his screen to Marshall. "This is footage recorded at that Olympus hotel in Neo Switzerland city. They are all very happy as you can see because..."
He didn't finish. In the video, Marshall saw how the kidnapper came out of the kitchen, with Elle, and she was... blushed? How could she?! Marshall thought. Then heard people cheering the wife of Lord Lucian, cheering Elle.
"See?" Ron chuckled. "The princess has become that man's little hoe, and she will never come back. She would have returned already, otherwise, don't you think?"
Marshall's eyes narrowed. "The emperor will pay a lot for the support. He wants them both."
"Oh! I see... well, we all know that the princess is quite powerful, don't we?" he began. "And that man could have killed everybody at the wedding if he wanted."
"There must be someone who could bring them to us," Marshall said.
"One man could, indeed," Ron said.
Marshall leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "And who is this man?"
Ron leaned back, a smug smile on his face. "His name is Viktor Jupiter," he said, as if the name should mean something to him.
Marshall's eyes widened. "The bounty hunter? He's just a legend!"
"I thought the same, until I met him myself," Ron said. "He's the man you want."
"Why is that?" Marshall asked, skeptical.
"He hunts Praetorians," Ron replied. "He's the only one who has succeeded in hunting and killing one."
"How could you say such a thing?" Marshall couldn't believe it, and he knew Ron liked playing with people.
"My left eye is bionic, you know that," Ron said. "I earned it in a fight against a Praetorian who had gone rogue or something, I don't remember the details, but what I do remember is that Viktor Jupiter was the man who killed that Praetorian."
Marshall felt a cold knot form in his stomach. He had to get back to the emperor, to tell him of this new development.
"Contact him! Now!" Marshall said. "Tell him the emperor has a job for him."
"He won't bring the Praetorian alive, Marshall. This man will kill Lucian," Ron said. "Are you sure?"
"Death is a light punishment for kidnapping the princess, for touching her perfection!" Marshall let out, with religious jealousy. He, like many, had been a man who desired Elle deeply, knowing that he would never have her and was content with knowing that no one else ever would. He feared the emperor, but he preferred killing the kidnapper and bringing Elle back than bringing both or losing her forever.
The door closed behind Marshall as he rushed to his vehicle. His heart burned with a twisted kind of joy…
Profound, long, a loud gasp that joined Lucian's, her Lucian, who had his arms around her tiny waist, pushing her against himself while she was pushing him against herself with her legs locked around his waist, their nude bodies trembling, their content and full hearts pumping the euphoria through their veins as their combined release was subsiding. "Mine..." Elle breathed out in his mouth.
"Mine..." He responded, holding her as if she was a dream that could fade any second. She giggled.
"You have no idea how much I care about you," she whispered, kissing him. They stayed there, in their intimate embrace, not caring about anything else. They were happy.
"I do know..." He answered, softly. "I'm the one for whom you blush, the one for whom you smile, the one that makes you angry, the one that makes you scream... The one that you let between your arms..."
"The one who I belong with..." She completed. Lucian smiled, caressing her.
"The one who I belong with..." Lucian repeated.
The breathing slowly normalized, but their caressing continued, their tenderness blooming, their eyes adoring the other's, their smiles playful in their complicity, and only their hearts could grasp the immensity of their bond.
He caressed her cheek again. "Do you miss it? The empire, your home?" He asked. Her eyes broke contact, and for a second he felt like she wanted to run away from his embrace; he wouldn't have let her, of course, because she didn't mean it in her depths; but she didn't run, she embraced his head and pushed his face against her breasts, then kissed him.
"It doesn't matter. All that matters is here, you and me, like this," she breathed in his mouth. "Only us..."
He smiled, tenderly.
"When I opened my eyes for the first time, the Genesis capsule had emptied, my feet touched something solid for the first time, my lungs could breathe the cold air, the world felt so cold. There was no mother who I could cry to, just Deimos asking if I knew who I was. He was confirming if the programming had gone well."
Elle remained silent.
"After that, we were sent to start the physical combat training, the very advanced sessions of learning about tactics, and all the abilities of our enemies. During sixteen months, we would learn everything, and our bodies would go from those of childhood to adulthood," he continued. "The closest to a father I had was Deimos. Yours was very dangerous, but I can't forgive that he sold you to Alexander... I had no mother. Do you remember yours?"
"I have a perfect memory, Lucian..." Elle began. "I was designed to be perfect, beautiful, all of this..."
"Yes, but you are so much more..." He kissed her, showing her all his desire, his need for her, his immense caring. "So much more, Elle..."
She gasped, smiling.
"I might believe it..." She playfully said, and he kissed her again, just like she wanted. "Mine..."
He chuckled, giving her as much time as she wanted while brushing her lips with his.
"I remember her..." She continued. "She looked like me, but her smile was... Like mine!" She said surprised. "Ada, show me a picture of my smile."
Ada complied.
"So narcissistic," Lucian giggled.
"No, silly," Elle said. "I hadn't noticed until you mentioned it."
Elle smiled, happy. "She would flash that same smile to me." Elle said. "I made my mom happy. Thank you, Lucian! Thank you for helping me see it!"
She kissed Lucian, this time she felt like he was the dream about to fade. "Please don't fade, or I'll be very displeased, Lucian... And then I'll be even more displeased with you..." Elle warned him. Lucian kissed her, chuckling.
"You, don't you dare to fade... Mine!" He responded.
They shared more kisses, and when they had to breathe again, she continued.
"My father said that we lost her... I was three when it happened," Elle said, with a profound sadness in her voice. "That's all that he ever said about her. Then he found another woman, then another, and another, always trying to get a boy, always failing, but that's the only thing he cares about. He thinks if he can make a kid, the kid will be the next generation of Praetorian. I have many half-sisters because of that, Lucian."
"I have many brothers too," Lucian added. "Each legion was ten thousand of us. So, ten thousand brothers. We were born around the same hour, and we got to know each other very well during training and combat. We considered the other legions as brothers as well, but I can't remember most of the other legions while I do remember, clearly, each one of my ten thousand blood brothers."
"Now that's a perfect memory," Elle pointed out. "Our babies will remember even what they shouldn't remember, Lucian..."
Lucian laughed.
"I'm starting to think that you want a baby," he said. Elle blushed.
"We'll need a house first... In a good place..." She said. "And we have to deal with our past too. My father will send more people after us... And I'm sure we'll have to face more monsters like the Keraunos."
He pushed his forehead against hers, their eyes locked on the other's.
"As long as we are together, nothing will stop us," he told her, and she believed him because he believed it.
"We have arrived at the capital of The Argent Kingdom. We have been granted permission to dock." Ada announced. "Docking."
The vast city of Neo Lima extended, vast beneath them. Like many of the other capital cities in the world, it had been rebuilt on the foundations of the ruins of the original capital. This was an act of defiance against the New Gods, as if telling them that mankind would always rise again. And also against the Warlords who had tried to erase the name and any honorable past of the continent under their iron fist.
"Can we delay the docking?" Elle suddenly said. "Let's delay the docking... Let's stay in bed longer..."
Lucian chuckled.
"Alright... Let's try to make a baby then," he whispered, smirking. Elle giggled.
"I'm afraid that might have to wait," Ada intervened. "The king and queen request your presence immediately."
"What? Why?" Elle was annoyed.
"Do you really want a baby?" Lucian asked, serious.
Elle turned red as a tomato. "Maybe…" She let out.
"Stop it!" Ada interrupted. "The king and the queen said immediately."
"We're going..." Lucian said, without intention to let Elle go, and Elle wasn't trying to leave either. "Maybe…"