Harmony: Life always finds unexpected harmony in unexpected places.

The asteroid belt was not suitable for operations of a super-large vessel like the Empire's Heart, but I didn't want the carrier fleet to stray too far from their mothership, so I ordered the flagship to anchor as close as possible.

At this time, the pilots of Gamma Squad should be handing over their mission to Delta Squad. I searched with my naked eyes among the countless floating rocks and ice chunks until I confirmed the return of the carrier fleet from the asteroid belt. Only then did I relax. I brought the coffee cup to my nose, inhaling the warm aroma--a very effective way to dispel the memories stirred by the scattered debris.

Arthur had told me many times that I shouldn't focus on such trivial matters. The bridge had an entire team monitoring the situation and would notify me if something went wrong.

But if something did go wrong, I was the one who could immediately deploy drones to execute countermeasures--no other psychic had dared to take the position of armor officer on the Empire's Heart for many years now--it was my fault again.

I wanted to get to the root of the problem. It was because I never treated them as fleet members under my command; I always saw them as... people I should protect, not... warriors.

But that's the reality, isn't it? Does being a warrior or having the resolve to die affect anything? Does one's identity affect one's value or lessen the regret when death finally comes for them? Who is innocent, and who is guilty? Why should everyone participate in this absurd farce when there are clearly simpler ways? Perhaps... we are all guilty, unforgivably so--at least I know I am. I could stop all this... I could prevent history from stupidly repeating itself... I could point to a better direction... I could... do what? Kill more people? How many need to die this time to achieve my goal, to prove I'm right?

Who am I trying to prove anything to?

I sighed, forcing myself to relax again, to cool my head. I had understood long ago that even with supreme power, not everything could be corrected. Expecting an omniscient and omnipotent higher authority to solve all problems was just a naive fantasy. Many delicate operations were needed, which I couldn't accomplish alone. The most reasonable choice now was to play my role well, follow the plan, and let things slowly fall into place. This wasn't a compromise but a strategic selection of battles--I couldn't engage in every fight, not even as the most powerful psychic in history.

So, the commander of the Empire's Heart should trust their fleet members, let everyone perform their duties according to the chain of command, and sleep when it's time to sleep, without overthinking or doing strange things.

Though saying that, drinking black coffee before bed probably wasn't a logical behavior. Anyway, I could later break down the caffeine directly, so I just shrugged and sipped the 03 Blue Mountain coffee--after the unprecedentedly strong hurricane hit the plantation the following year, the taste was never the same.

"The water temperature is too high, and the grind is too coarse." I licked my palate a few times. "This stuff could be considered Gaia's cultural heritage, show a bit more respect, Private Luther?" I turned around, leaning against the metal table by the observation window, speaking to the mutt.

The port side of the Empire's Heart was now simulating nighttime, so the only light in the admiral's quarters came from the desk lamp on my office table. I still wasn't sure what benefits maintaining a day-night cycle simulation in the cabin had, weren't there plenty of other light sources? But the chief medical officer was very insistent, so I thought he must have his reasons.

The mutt stood silently in the darkness, shadows falling on his angular face, resonating with the originally subtle dark stripes, making him look more... mature?

Saying he was silent wasn't entirely accurate; I still caught the moment his lips moved, revealing white canine teeth. He was usually quieter during the simulated nighttime, less likely to talk back. Was this the effect of the nighttime lighting, or was he just tired?

"Why don't you use the food synthesizer?" he muttered a complaint, more tired than annoyed. This made me wonder if I had assigned him too much duty. Oh, and the humiliating punishments--though in my defense, any other officer would have whipped him or at least confined him.

But was it really just that? I sighed internally, admitting that I had been too harsh on this mutt, often forgetting he was only sixteen. Not to mention he was forcibly conscripted, he must feel awful inside, and I couldn't even be sure his service records were trustworthy.

I had always suspected he was a spy planted by a family faction, so I constantly found ways to send him away or kept him busy with trivial and complex tasks, leaving him no time to spare. But his daily behavior gradually made me think I needed to reassess my paranoia--no spy would be so... simple. Or maybe he was a master among masters--damn, paranoia!

"Although the food synthesizer is indeed an almost miraculous invention, it still can't do some things." I evaded the main issue, taking another sip of coffee and placing the cup back on the saucer. Only then did I notice they didn't match--I raised an eyebrow, glanced at the mutt, but he obviously didn't get what I was hinting at.

Maybe too tired, the mutt, unusually, didn't try to provoke or retort, even shifted his weight to another foot, and scratched his arm uneasily under my silent gaze.

Never mind, it's just a cup and saucer. Honestly, without some higher existence stipulating that they must be paired or used in a certain way, the universe wouldn't suddenly stop functioning. Even if he served me coffee in a plate next time, I'd probably stick out my tongue and lick it, then share some interesting coffee history.

"You go rest; it's already very late." I said softly, trying to appear friendly, then finished my coffee. After all these years, I still couldn't bring myself to say "dismissed"--it felt too weird.

The mutt shifted his weight again, turned to leave but eventually stopped. He lifted his head, meeting my gaze again.

"What's wrong?" I tilted my head, folding my right ear as I asked. I had already returned to my desk, activated the digital desktop, but the mutt's expression caught my attention.

"Why..." he lowered his gaze slightly but quickly raised his head again. "Why weren't we killed by cosmic rays during the last black alert?" The mutt held my gaze for a few seconds after speaking, then looked away, scratching his ear uneasily.

Not only was I surprised he noticed this, but I had also forgotten that's what they told the ship's officers and soldiers.

"Because it was a lie." I didn't want to insult the mutt's intelligence, so I gave a direct and clear answer. "Complete radiation shielding is a fundamental design requirement for all starship structures, needing no extra coverings." I pointed to the observation window of the quarters.

"But... why?" The mutt's angular face twisted in confusion, his brown eyes full of incomprehension. He scratched his ear furiously, shedding short hair onto the quarters' floor.

I leaned back in my chair, resting my elbows on the armrests, fingers intertwined, pondering how to respond.

Thinking back to the time I blurted out a bunch of random stuff in a panic after misspeaking was a bit embarrassing. For a sixteen-year-old, had I thrown too many heavy bombs at him?

What was I doing at sixteen?

My first kill, scaring the psychic under the Council with overwhelming power, and becoming the youngest member to receive Council training.

Hmm, okay... maybe I wasn't the best example for discussing "normality."

Probably because of that, I disliked being underestimated due to my age, always taking everyone seriously, regardless of rank, race, or age, treating them as equally as I could.

Was this projecting my shortcomings onto others?

I locked eyes with the mutt, trying to read his thoughts. The burning fire in those brown eyes, wasn't it just a reflection of my own pride? When the questioner isn't sure they really want to know the answer, giving a truth that might pull them into endless danger, is that responsible?

I sighed, making a compromise. Damn, I hated compromises.

"Sit down; this will take some time." I stood up and walked to the refrigerated beverage cabinet, gesturing to the sofa. "Want something to drink?"

His ears perked up immediately, glancing at my liquor cabinet.

"Cognac brandy..." the mutt said somewhat guiltily but with eyes full of anticipation.

"Rationalism above all, no!" I nearly laughed, rubbing my forehead. "And as a responsible adult--no." I emphasized to him again, then took out a Collins glass, put an ice cube in it, and placed it on the table.

"I'm an adult!" the mutt complained challengingly, still not giving up.

I never understood why the Empire set adulthood at sixteen, just to fit the feudal society theme? Whatever, the Empire was about to collapse; no need to waste energy on these matters.

"My point still stands--no!" I shook my head, refocusing, pouring the orange liquid into the Collins glass, placing it on the coffee table, and sitting down opposite the mutt.

"Juice?" His nose twitched twice, wrinkling in disdain. "Juice is for pups."

"No more for you then." I grabbed the Collins glass, leaning back on the soft sofa, enjoying my drink. The mutt who couldn't appreciate good stuff could just swallow his saliva.

Unexpectedly, he tilted his head, drooping both ears, looking at me pitifully. Seriously? Hadn't he just refused me with such an air of authority? Now he's acting all cute? Worse yet, I found myself unable to resist the attack of those puppy eyes.

I think I know why wolves have lost their dominance in the canine empire to domestic dogs...

"Help yourself," I softened, gesturing towards the fridge in compromise.

The mutt grinned, and as he got up, I noticed his tail wagging gently. He ended up grabbing a highball glass for his drink, probably just wanting the largest container available.

"Do you know that different types of glasses are meant for different drinks?" I placed my empty glass on the coffee table, asking the mutt who had settled back on the sofa.

"What did you just say?" He might not have heard my question clearly. He looked up, his nose wet from the drink.

Ugh... Alright, I admit to myself, that was kind of cute.

"Never mind," I waved my hand and leaned back in my chair, signaling that he needn't worry about it. Honestly, this mutt would probably drink straight from the bottle if given the chance, let alone recognize matching sets of cups and saucers. Best to avoid unnecessary trouble.

"What's this made of?" The mutt held the glass up to his eyes for inspection. "It's really good."

"I'm pretty sure this thing doesn't exist naturally in the Sol," I replied, a smile tugging at my lips as I recalled our competitions to see who could get the food synthesizer to create the weirdest things.

"Oh." The mutt averted his gaze, staring at the floor, his muzzle buried in the glass, shifting uneasily.

Did I say something wrong?

"Anyway," I abandoned further inquiry and returned to the previous topic. "If you want me to answer 'why,' you need to answer another question first."

The mutt fixed his gaze on me, his ears slightly folded back in my direction, waiting.

"How do you feel when you see that image of Gaia, hanging alone in the endless universe?" I asked, glancing at the sparse points of light outside the observation window.

The mutt stared at his glass in silence, not answering immediately. I didn't rush him, letting the quiet thoughts ferment between us.

I found I quite enjoyed these moments. To converse simply and share thoughts with someone as an equal--perhaps it was my social needs rebounding after being ignored for so many years.

Admiral, Archduke, Sri, Patriarch... They always listened to my orders and instructions with trepidation and respect; those weren't conversations. The day Arthur started calling me "Sir," I knew our friendship was over--at least it could never be the same.

And those who thought they were my equals were mostly narcissists with inflated egos or secretly plotting countless schemes, every word and sentence laden with hidden meanings. That wasn't conversation either; it was more like a game of chess, a battle.

Damn, I couldn't even have a proper chat with Hunter anymore, even before he got obsessed with those tacky morning greeting videos--what's wrong with that husky? Will I turn out like that when I'm older?

Now, being offended and contradicted feels somewhat refreshing, like finally coming up for air. But no one dares speak disrespectfully or challenge the most powerful swordsman in the Empire, the most formidable psychic in history.

Except for this mutt.

This mutt has stirred waves in the tranquil water of my life.

I almost forgot what it felt like to truly experience something.

"Peace," the mutt finally spoke, slowly. "Calm and harmony." He turned the glass in his hand, watching the small droplets run down the inside. "It's like I finally found my place in the world."

"Belonging," I nodded. "That's a common feeling." I sat up straight, reminding myself that my physical condition was starting to decline with age and I needed to be mindful of my posture. "Realizing in the vast void that we're all there... all together." I smiled at him. "No one is forgotten, no one is left behind, because we are all one."

I could tell from the glimmer in the mutt's brown eyes that he understood.

"Citizens of the Federation reportedly experience a similar effect when they see Ares from space, the same with the Luna and Ceres." My gaze drifted to the interstellar map hanging on the wall.

"But if that's the case, why prevent everyone from seeing this sight?" the mutt asked, his confused expression returning. I was surprised at how quickly he grasped the point. "What's the problem with that?"

"If everyone on Gaia realized we are all one, would anyone follow orders when the Golden house tried to annex South America and exterminate the small families under the protection of the Maned Wolf house?" I tried to state the facts plainly, without sounding too critical. "If we all believed we were equally important and Gaia was our only home, who would send runaway serfs back--or rather, how would serfdom even exist?"

The mutt's face darkened, his fingers tightening around the glass. Yes, he understood. It's something even a sixteen-year-old could easily grasp, and see how unreasonable it is.

"Those in power will do everything to maintain the status quo." I felt a bitter smile forming on my face. "They know very well that those who have seen the 'pale blue dot' will possess the power to shatter their futile illusions." Literally, the power.

"But if..." he muttered, looking straight into my eyes. "If you truly believe these things are wrong, why haven't you done something about it?" His tone was accusatory, a familiar territory for me. "Aren't you one of the most powerful people in the Empire?"

"I've made feasible corrections within my capabilities," I said softly, pondering how weak this argument sounded. "Just having the Grand Duchy of Germany take in runaway serfs has already caused a lot of tension and hostility. If I were to completely abolish serfdom, the factions within the German house would immediately put a bounty on my head." I lightly tapped the glass in my hand, listening to the crisp sound. "It's not that I fear the assassins coming after me, but assassins don't just come after me. Besides, what should I do, declare war on the Grand Duchy of Golden?" I tried not to sound too defensive, but probably didn't succeed. "Believe me, killing everyone who disagrees with you isn't the solution--I've tried." I rubbed my temples, ignoring the mutt's confusion over my words. "If you have any brilliant ideas, feel free to share. I'd love to learn something new!"

It was too late by the time I noticed my raised voice and bristling fur. The mutt shifted uneasily in the sofa, his tail tucked between his legs.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to take out my frustrations on you," I retracted my fangs, waited for my fur to settle, and lowered my ears, apologizing in a calm tone. Recalling bad memories had caused me to lose control momentarily--sometimes, those never-ending screams still affected me.

I glanced again at the view outside the observation window, the countless drifting fragments.

"I don't... know," the mutt finally said after a long silence. At least he had relaxed, though he still stared at the floor.

"You're right," I admitted. "I haven't truly done everything I could to 'correct' the wrongs." I stood up, asking if he wanted a refill of his drink. The mutt nodded in response and thanked me. "Because I'm also a beneficiary of the current system, and I have... responsibilities to fulfill."

I never thought Wolfgang's birth would have such a significant impact on me. I initially disliked pups and was very resistant, but watching him grow gave me a... strange feeling. Maybe it's another form of projection, not wanting Wolfgang to suffer from the lack of a father.

But honestly, is this familial role really necessary? I should probably have a serious talk with Arthur and Maya about their thoughts. Previously, this topic was too awkward, and Arthur kept avoiding me, so I didn't pay much attention and never seriously discussed it.

Sigh, Wolfgang is already six years old, is it too late to worry about this now?

Interestingly, it only took the time to refill the drink and sit back down to confirm that it's never too late to start something, as long as you're willing.

Then there's the shadow government's plan. Those rules, restrictions, and scripts--as mentioned earlier, I need to play my role well to have enough influence when the final reckoning comes. I've invested too much to lose sight of my goal. This isn't just about me, the Grand Duchy of Germany, or the Canine Empire... it's about all life in the Sol!

Even knowing this, sometimes, in these quiet moments, a simple question like this can still shake me.

The trolley car continues to move forward, not slowing down, and my hands, covered in dried blood, are gripping the lever that can change its course--as if it's my lifeline--ironic, isn't it? I'm not even the one on the track.

"The boundless expanse of deep space is vast enough to contain all living beings, allowing everyone to find their own interpretation within it." I placed the cup of drink in front of the mutt and took his silence as consent to end the previous topic. "Those who feel lonely gaze at their home planet from the dark void and find belonging. Those seeking validation listen to the true whispers of their hearts amidst the vast stars and find themselves. Those chasing challenges discover worthy goals in the endless possibilities beyond deep space and find meaning. Those with questions gain ultimate answers in the emptiness and find the truth." I glanced at the map of the solar system on the wall. The Empire, the Federation, the Alliance, and the Lunar--they drew lines and colored the universe. Yes, they could try. "As for those who crave freedom, they will eventually break their chains and cross boundaries, for there will be nothing in the universe that can bind them anymore."

As soon as I finished, the mutt let out a huge yawn, revealing white teeth and a long, curling pink tongue. He rubbed his eyes and looked away awkwardly, pressing his ears flat against his head.

"Go rest," I chuckled softly, waving to show I wasn't offended. "It's quite late."

The mutt nodded, finished his drink, and headed toward the living room door.

"Just to confirm," I called after him. He turned and folded his right ear back in response. "You know our rooms are connected, right?" I pointed to the side door in the opposite direction.

"Of course!" he replied in an overly assured tone, quickly lowering his gaze under my scrutiny, glancing around nervously, the tips of his ears tinged with a hint of red.

I shrugged, said nothing more, and stood up to clear the empty glass.

"By the way..." I heard the door slide open, and only then realized he hadn't left yet. "What's your interpretation?" he asked, scratching his ear and looking at me.

"I think I said something like, 'I truly felt how limited the space I occupy in this world is,'" I recalled, placing the glass on the desk. "But what really made me cry was the sense of acceptance," I said in a calm tone, meeting the mutt's brown eyes. "If each of us is so small, then surely the world can accommodate all of us."

The mutt nodded silently, just accepting my statement.

"Good night... Admiral," he said finally, bowing slightly, lowering his gaze and both ears. Was he trying to mimic the wolf's body language?

"My orderly, you don't need to salute me, in any form," I said, feeling my mouth uncontrollably curve upward. "Good night, Private Luther."

The mutt nodded, turned back to his room, and the sliding door closed silently behind him.

I ran my fingers over my cheeks, feeling the now somewhat unfamiliar curve. It seemed the simulated night phase affected more than just the mutt.

Stretching, I listened to my joints crack. Rationalism, I'm only thirty-six, and Snow's genes should make me age slower.

I extended my consciousness, intending to throw the used glass into the sink for washing.

But suddenly, I noticed the mismatched coffee cup and saucer. I placed the glass in the sink, then reached for the porcelain floating in mid-air.

I set the coffee cup on the saucer, observing the mismatched set from various angles, even sniffing it a few times.

Finally, I laughed heartily.

I think I found a harmony I never expected.