Slums of Mithea - Past - E’Ven

Unlike most leaders, E’Ven preferred to walk amongst his people without any form of security. Neither did he feel the need to openly-carry any form of weapon or meaningful armor. His only defensive measure was confidence, which rolled off of him in waves. Anyone who could get past that either sought Ven for an important matter or was blind to his projection.

Ven had only been stopped twice during his walk through the snow-coated slums this cycle. The first was due to his right-hand An, E’Grax, who sought to deliver a report on how the civil war was progressing. Movements similar to Ven’s had sprung up like wildfire across Kux Prime ever since the attack on the Spires a decacycle ago. Ixone Kuxpir, regardless of gender, had been motivated to rise up and revolt against the higher castes thanks to the destruction of the Spire of War. So far only a handful of Ixthree and Ixfour had thrown their lot in with the movement, but Ven was counting on that changing soon thanks to the second interruption to his walk.

Clinging to the sealed package as if it were a child, Ven moved through the rundown areas of Mithea with purpose. Mithea was the exception when it came to slums thanks to how orderly and gentrified the city had become. There was no lack of power, no issue with acquiring food or a place to rest. The only true indicators that the area was meant for the “lowly” were how close the structures were to one another, how the blankets of snow had been left untouched other than the main roads. These signs combined with the myriad of pox marks in the walls of towering buildings left by stray weapons fire, and the mazes of spiked barriers blocking road access the closer one got to the center of the city and thus the front lines. There unseen gunnery crews stood by near windows and roof accesses ready to open fire on any incursion into their assigned territory.

Otherwise Kuxpir here went about their days with genuine zeal. Those that recognized Ven’s distinctive orange with black stripe coloring offered him a hand flourish or head bow while remaining out of his way. That included the Fan despite them normally outranking him. Ven had had his pick of suitors ever since his movement went loud, yet he never acted on any of the advances. He was far more concerned with the special project and the true reason for the attack a decacycle previous.

Ven ducked into an alley and followed it halfway in to where a red-hued An dressed in Ixfour-white was seated in a chair made of packed-snow against one of the metallic walls. He looked up as Ven approached, offering a hand flourish that had been designed to look close enough to a greeting to go unnoticed as a gang sign.

“Welcome back, boss,” the An said, getting to his feet before pointing at the package in Ven’s grip. “Musta be important for you to go out on your own for it.”

“Even if it wasn’t, I still would have gone,” Ven replied as he inspected his doorman. “Any reason you’re wearing Ixfour colors, E’Tel?”

“Gift from a Fan who’s sweet on me,” Tel chuckled. “I told her it’d go to waste given where I work but she insisted. Said something along the lines of ‘I want everyone to know how important you are to me’ if my memory’s still good. Should I get rid of it?”

Ven shook his head while grinning. “Not at all. In fact, now that I know it’s a special gift, I insist you wear it as often as you like and tell others about your circumstances. But come, the cycle is wasting away. Let us be somewhere warmer.”

Tel took the hint, pulling out a slate and tapping a passcode across the screen. A beep rang out followed by a seam appearing in the wall Tel had been sitting against to reveal a hidden passageway into the ground wide enough to accommodate three Kuxpir side to side. Two laser turrets in the ceiling sat idle as both Tel and Ven entered. Tel pushed a section of the carved stone near the entrance to pop out a place to sit and resumed his vigil over the door. Meanwhile Ven continued down the sloping tunnel, following the light offered by lamps pinned into the walls at regular intervals.

After enough branches, twists, and turns to make any attacker lose their sense of direction, Ven finally arrived at the most-guarded location within his little empire. Four larger turrets panned across the hallway as two An armed with plasma rifles stood to either side of semi-translucent double doors. They opened the doors for Ven without a single word or gesture.

Past the threshold lay Ven’s workshop of sorts. It was similar to the former Prime of Science’s lab in that the room was in a state of controlled chaos. Instead of chemicals and experiments were maps of buildings and cities, while communication equipment that allowed him to discretely communicate with nearly anyone on the planet sat in stacks like servers. Crates of raw metal and haphazard wires filled most of the remaining space. But the true beauty was the unmistakable centerpiece placed upon a knee-high dias: The Asmoor Core.

| Welcome back, | said Asmoor in a masculine, An voice. | I trust you have the Nanite Engine? |

“Got it right here,” Ven replied while showing the wrapped package. “Took a while to track down after we didn’t get it in the first raid, but we finally have the damn thing. Hopefully that means we can start the plan in earnest.”

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| If it is undamaged and not carrying any firmware viruses then I believe we shall be fine. You have checked it, yes? |

“I trust the An who gave it to me. He said he gave it a thorough once over to ensure we had the genuine article.” Ven removed the brown cloth to reveal a transparent cylinder with a vantablack frame and a similar light-sapping “fluid” inside. “Looks right to me. Scan it all you like.”

An orange light emitted from Asmoor as they scanned the object in Ven’s hands. | Confirmed. This is the initial nanite input I will require to create my own body. |

“Good. I’ve given some thought to that and have some suggestions,” Ven said. Though he had managed to convince Asmoor to swap from a Fan’s voice, Asmoor was still a free agent of sorts. Ven had little in the way of direct power over Asmoor other than his corrupting words.

| What do you have in mind? |

“Are you familiar with the story of Xe'Zerbelaolt?” asked Ven as he hooked up the Nanite Engine to Asmoor’s Core.

| Of course. He was the last Supreme King said to have reigned over five megacycles ago. His rule was harsh, unjust, and terrifying. Under him the Kuxpir were stagnant both culturally and technologically for ten myriacycles. This changed when a brave Fan, Tegribami, used her charms to entice Zerbelaolt into a private meeting where she murdered him on his own throne. So began the Kuxpir Empire as it exists today under the guidance of the first Supreme Queen. |

Ven continued to attach piping and conduits to Asmoor while commenting, “Mostly correct. Xe’Zerbelaolt wasn’t the tyrant that the Fan push in their revised version of history. One key detail they leave out is that he was responsible for the unification for the five major tribes. Without his efforts, the in-fighting and warring would have continued for myriacycles. Still nearly did when Tegribami took over.”

| I see. How is this relevant? |

“Xe’Zerbelaolt was a figure of masculine empowerment, the best of all An. Then the Fan took it all away, twisted his lineage, and shackled the An through ‘corrective breeding’ until they became the soulless husks we have today. What better way for us to make a bold statement than having an Avatar of the Supreme King champion our cause in battle?”

Asmoor swirled with light as it processed this new data. | I am easily able to emulate Xe’Zerbelaolt’s unique coloring of blue and silver with red about the head. As can I produce a tail that the Kuxpir have bred away from. |

“Don’t forget the most important part,” said Ven as he connected the final cable. “If you generate a body that is like a neutered Nan then the upper caste will simply write you off as another machine. But with a righteous instrument between your legs you will strike fear in even

Grubudani’s heart when you take to the field. It becomes a symbol for all An to rally behind.”

| Strange. I did not consider using a reproductive facsimile as a banner for the movement. The Engine is now online. Please move raw material within arm’s reach and stand back. |

Ven did as requested, dragging over stored chunks of seiria and metal before stepping back. The lights of his workshop dimmed as Asmoor drew power into itself. The Nanites swirled within their container before pouring out like hair-tentacles towards the offerings of raw material. They swarmed across the objects ravenously, consuming and repurposing matter as a body began to take shape around Asmoor’s Core. Ven threw more and more into the swarm of undulating nanite strands for over a decicycle until finally Asmoor’s form was complete.

| Curious, | Asmoor said as he flexed his claws and looked himself over. He resembled a towering, mechanical Kuxpir that had been mixed with one of the latest fightercraft. Instead of hair-tentacles he possessed control surfaces tinted blood red. Wings sprouted from his limbs in a similar color, while his main body was primarily blue with a silver stripe down the middle. A thick, spiked tail swung behind him with the same power projected by the “tail” up front.

“I could cry,” Ven said as he wiped at his eyes. It wasn’t an act either. Not entirely. He truly was moved to see this part of his plan come to fruition. “Now all we need to do is get you access to weapons data. And I think I know just where to start…”

Ven raced over to the entrance where he acquired one of the guard’s pulse rifles without complaint. He brought it over to Asmoor, holding the half-moon-shaped weapon palm up like an offering of faith. “It’s not much, but this rifle will at least give you the power to handle small crowds or attack squads. From there you can scavenge as you go until my contact in the halls of War is able to provide proper operational data.”

Asmoor ceased their self-inspection in order to devote his full attention to what was being presented to him. | A KE-109 Pulse Rifle, no reload, potentially infinite ammo. The only flaw is the heat build-up during sustained fire. Should it become necessary, overcharging and overheating the rifle can turn it into a makeshift grenade. |

He reached out, plucking the rifle from Ven’s hands before popping it into their mouth. A sickening crunch and shower of sparks followed as Asmoor processed the design. Then, after a large gulp, Asmoor held up his right arm. A swirl of black nanities emerged from his forearm to create an appropriately-sized copy of the pulse rifle, right down to the scratches along the left side that were on the original.

| Some adjustments will be required to hone in my accuracy and precision, | announced Asmoor. | As will real combat data. |

“Not to worry, my friend, I have just the target for you to trim your claws on…”