Novels2Search
Aegis: The First Attempt
Chapter 48: We Cannot Stop

Chapter 48: We Cannot Stop

"I don't want to invade Polus. I don't want to create more people like me, people forever obsessed with vengeance after losing their everything, but...this is a chance for me. If Xeros truly intends to conquer Polus for good, he'll have to personally step forth himself. He'll fight, and when he's weakened and basking in his victory, then I shall carve my blade into his back. I'll betray him at the height of his ecstacy, even if it means perpetuating this damned cycle of hate. I know I'm selfish, I know I'm no better than Xeros, but I can't stop now. I've gone too far, committed such disgusting horrors, to give up here. I'll see through this grudge to the end."

Luxanne, Commander of Nox Caelum

———

Luxanne

Thirty-seven days and thirty-seven nights: that is how long Luxanne has been stuck to The Grand General’s side—constantly watching him, constantly listening to his drivel. She’s sick and tired of it, but…those days will soon come to an end. Finally, home is within sight.

Luxanne is leading at the front of Xeros's entourage. The air is blistering cold, the wind howling a screeching melody that grinds at the ears, but luckily her armor is designed to be insulated against all elements. The soldiers on the other hand are not quite as fortunate. She can hear their clattering teeth and shivering bodies, but they must endure. Only an hour of steady march is left before they can bask in the sweltering heat of the city's forge.

Those familiar smog-wreathed spirals twirling around the gigantic pillar that is Caligos Imperium appear quite welcoming now. It’s dirty and filthy and grimy, but it’s home nonetheless. Luxanne is privileged enough to now reside above the soiled vapors thanks to Xeros’s constant insistence with her being his commander, but she remembers a time when everyone suffered under the clouds together.

Lux Caelum—the nation’s name before Xeros oh so ceremoniously took it over—has always been a nation of elbow grease and sweat, but that is its charm. Steelworkers and engineers…blacksmiths and metallurgists…everybody would come home covered in a black suit of ash after a long day’s work in the foundry, but they would always be welcomed by warm, hot meal and embraced by a pair of loving arms.

Once upon a time, neighbors cared for each other. The citizens treated each other as family, as a community, and when one of us is in trouble, we could always count on the help of others to help us up when we’re at our lowest.

But now, that spirit of amiability is long gone, replaced by a cutthroat desire to trample on others in order to ascend Xeros’s hierarchy. Some will sacrifice their closest friends if it means landing a place within the Archon district, free of smog.

Perhaps Xeros is right, and desperation does nurture the innate skill within—Luxanne is a shining example of this, her combat ability honed on hatred and fury—but can such a system truly define a person's worth? Not everyone thrives from being beaten in both body and soul, some require love and care to fully display the true depths of their ability. Luxanne's mom knew this best, and she worked hard like none before thanks to the love poured onto her from the citizens.

In Xeros's pursuit of ridding the nation of incompetency, he has probably snuffed out countless souls once filled with potential all because of his narrow-minded view of success. Serve, or die. Excel, or decay. That man does not know how special love can be. He never has, and he never will.

So why does he keep Luxanne so close to him? Twenty years he has educated her, taken her under his wing, for reasons Luxanne still does not truly know. He does not love her—nor does he care for her—and yet, wherever she goes, his watchful eye is not far behind. Is this supposed to be his atonement for what he did to Luxanne's mother? No, guilt has never once entered his mind. For better or for worse, he is completely resolute in his will, and every single action of his is for the betterment of his ideal world. Why must such a resolve belong to one so cruel?

"Luxanne, your brow is furrowed,' The Grand General says, suddenly appearing behind her. How he knows this without seeing her face is a mystery, but nonetheless the startled commander turns around and salutes him.

"A-Ah, Grand General, what brings you out here? We'll soon arrive at the city; you should stay inside the transport lest you come into contact with the smog."

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

He stares at her with piercing eyes. Whenever she has to meet his gaze, it feels as if her everything is bared before him. It's unnerving. She feels anxious, and even after twenty years she still can't quite discern the emotions hidden within his face. Does he know about her revulsion towards him? Does he know about her plans to slay him? No matter how well she believes her acting to be, she can't quite shake off the feeling that Xeros already knows her true intentions.

"Hmm, so it would seem." He walks out in front of her and sets his sight towards the city. "It has been a while since I've gazed upon the city from the outside. Much has changed, in both appearance and soul."

"What would you know about soul," Luxanne thinks to herself.

He pauses for a moment and strokes his beard. If she didn't know any better, she would say he looks mildly amused. "Tell me, what do you think about our fair nation?"

Is he testing her? For whatever odd reason, Xeros often enjoys these little games of his. He would always ask her about something, and she would always reply with what he wants to hear. "Our nation is growing. Thanks to your efforts, we've amassed a large following of the skilled and talented. No other nations have been able to gather such personnel under their service, and the people are rife with motivation to prove themselves valuable to your cause."

Xeros waits for her to continue. No matter how many praises she sings under his name, there's always one more thing that she has to add at the end.

"But, we cannot be complacent. We have to advance forward no matter how successful we appear to be. We must always strive to be better."

Xeros is never satisfied with what he has. Even if the entire world is within his grasp, he will always want for more. In the end, and since the very beginning, his eyes are set towards the starry sky above.

"Quite so, quite so," he muses. "There is no such thing as a perfect nation, Luxanne. To be satisfied with what one has is to be satisfied with stagnation. You must look ever onwards, no matter the path you must pave to reach it."

"What about you? What do you think about our nation?" Luxanne says in a rare fit of annoyance. She regrets saying the words the moment it leaves her lips, but she's tired of this little back and forth of theirs. She wants to hear his words for once.

The Grand General chuckles. "The same as always, that it is not enough. For as long as there exists those so stubbornly clinging onto stagnation, for as long as there exists those who clamor for respite instead of seeking it with their own power, I will continue to be mired within this limited space we call earth."

Xeros grabs a bundle of dirt in his hand and holds it out for Luxanne to see. "We are as many as these grains of dirt. Individually, each speck is miniscule in nature and barely seen with the naked eye. But, together, it makes one whole. I despise Polus's weak-hearted ideals, but their core motto is quite notable. 'Together, united as one" or so they say. Indeed, together, these little specks can combine into something truly greater than themselves. But..."

He picks out a small tiny grain different from the others. This one is lumpy and uneven; it sticks out, ruining the mound's smooth combination. "There will always be outliers such as these that ruin the unity. But unlike these mindless specks of dirt, human specks will spread their nature to others, turning them hideous just like themselves. And when these specks multiply unabated..."

He crushes the dirt into dust. The remnants trickle from his hands and are blown away by the wind. "Destruction. The once perfect whole shall become destroyed. Its legacy, the innocents, and the fools shall be blown away by the winds of time. Everything we stand for, the accumulation of history and innovation we've created over the course of this nation's life, will be all for naught if these hideous specks are not rooted out. It is an endless endeavor and a thankless one, but it is necessary. I only hope that I am able to succeed in this lifetime so that my duty shall not be passed on. That is why I work so hard, and so ruthlessly, Luxanne."

She's silent. Specks...to think that's how he views humans. She kind of understands where he's coming from, but she disagrees vehemently with the idea that imperfection should be cast aside. Humanity is special because it is so varied, and without their uniqueness, they would have never grown.

Of course, Luxanne doesn't tell Xeros that.

"...I see," she murmurs.

"So you do."

Xeros strides over and pats her on the shoulder. "I am not heartless, Luxanne. I know pain and lost more than anyone else, and I fully understand the misery brought forth from my ambitions. However, someone must take this role. Someone must act with sternness and a steady gaze. Someone must cause suffering in order to bring about salvation. Not everything can be divided as simply good or evil. The world is cruel, and if you want to change it, you must be cruel as well. Mounds of bodies shall lie in your wake, but if it's for a future where none shall need to perish from injustice ever again, then you must be willing to commit each and every atrocity to achieve it. If you let yourself be overcome by soft-hearted ideals and let your heart waver, then everything you've done, every bit of pain you've caused, will all be for naught. This world isn't a fairytale; good shall never prevail by itself."

Luxanne bites her lips and struggles to control her emotions. If he stops now, then everything he has done will be for naught. How disgusting it is that his words mirror her own. But he's right about one thing: you cannot stop when in pursuit of your ideals.

The Grand General lets go of his grip and walks on back to the transport. "Come, Luxanne. Let us go home."