Chaos Heir

Humid air invaded Monica's nostrils, adding a taste of wetness in her mouth. Her bare legs and butt rested on smooth and cold rocks, tainting her skin with their dirt. Soft shivers occasionally ran down her back, seemingly requesting a blanket or any type of cover from the slightly chilling atmosphere, but her body didn't move.

The world in Monica's vision was dark, but her eyes remained fixed on the sole source of light. A purple-red halo shone in the back of the cave, mere meters from her. A complicated array of glowing lines fended off the area's blackness, siphoning mana into the flesh it rested upon.

Monica knew Khan could sense her gaze, but nothing could make her divert her eyes. Watching him train was her prerogative and privilege, and she wouldn't refrain from abusing them. It had become one of her favorite hobbies, and she would linger in it whenever her schedule allowed it.

Monica lost herself in the scene. She was the only person in the world who had seen that training technique, and her marvel never diminished. Khan saw it as a simple evolution of his skills, but Monica knew the truth.

The array of lines was more than a simple fusion of two alien arts. Khan didn't only translate a Niqols' training technique into the Thilku language. He had also invented new Thilku runes for that purpose, effectively surpassing two species in one move.

In many ways, Khan had created a new language, something only he could read and make sense of. Those glowing lines only had meaning in his eyes. They came and belonged to his personal world, which no one could access.

That was why Monica knew the simple act of being present during Khan's training sessions was a privilege. She had first-row seats and a monopoly on the embodiment of revolutionary genius. In her eyes, Khan was a bright star, blinding to anyone who tried to watch him but also capable of an addicting light.

The thought was scary, and Monica had repeatedly fallen prey to that feeling. Yet, she had eventually accepted the unavoidable truth. Khan would always get further away. It was his nature, duty, and curse.

As the closest person to Khan, Monica had noticed many subtle and gradual changes. Khan didn't look at the world the same way as before. He didn't talk, move, or live anymore like the wounded man Monica had met on Milia 222.

Moreover, Monica was also sure Khan hadn't noticed those changes. He didn't even transform himself on purpose. Those new traits resulted from his experiences, environment, and growth. The process was another unavoidable result caused by his talent.

Monica had previously worried about that transformation. Part of her feared she would lose Khan forever if he kept distancing himself from humankind. However, he wasn't the only one who had changed. Monica had also learned and adapted to her role, developing a duty Khan thought she didn't realize.

Hiding things from Khan was impossible, but a woman needed her secrets. Throughout the years, Monica had learned to control her emotions enough to keep her greatest worries at bay. She didn't do that to trick Khan. She simply didn't want to add problems to his already heavy mind.

That was why Monica never told Khan that she knew she was his only connection to humankind. Khan had many human friends and even a family now, but Monica was the main reason he worked so hard to remain inside the Global Army. Monica represented the species he was inevitably abandoning, but he would stay part of it as long as she was at his side.

Of course, Monica didn't see her relationship as a political mission. She was with Khan because she loved him beyond reason. Yet, as his duties evolved, so did hers. The task of keeping the greatest genius in the Global Army's history loyal to humankind had fallen on her, and she would fulfill it. That was her higher role among all that chaos.

'If only I could pluck out my eyes,' Monica thought, 'And offer them to humankind, everyone would stop opposing you. Everyone would let you lead them into a bright future.'

"Why are you so worried?" Khan asked, the rune on his torso growing dim as it dispersed into the air.

"It's my job to worry," Monica reassured, darkness invading her vision. "You should know that by now."

An azure light soon arrived, illuminating the cave. Khan's eyes shone as he stood up and approached Monica. His clothes had disappeared long ago, but some war paint still lingered on his face.

Monica noticed another change in that short walk. Khan's moves always exuded grace. His steps were silent, weightless, and almost non-existent. However, immense power brimmed in his legs now, adding a conflicting weight to his lightness.

"It's my job to fix that worry," Khan said, crouching toward Monica as she welcomed him in her arms.

"Dear," Monica giggled, caressing Khan's face. "You can do many things. This isn't one of them."

"What would you have me do then?" Khan teased, matching Monica's movements as she lay down.

"You must resume training soon," Monica revealed, "And I'll also have to leave to get my infusion. These are our last free moments together."

"Are you sure you don't want me with you during the infusion?" Khan asked. The two had already discussed that, but Monica was a wall. She wouldn't let her problems get in the way of his training.

"I'll be fine," Monica reassured. "The supplement will make it as smooth as possible. By the time the tournament starts, I'll be a fourth-level warrior."

"So," Khan muttered.

"So," Monica continued, her hands slipping behind Khan's neck to pull him down. "Now we enjoy these hours and make the outside world disappear."

.

.

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Khan would have preferred the tournament to happen at the end of the year. It would have been perfect to hold such a big and recurring event during that meaningful date. However, organizing everything while upholding meaningful standards turned out to take longer than a couple of months.

Nevertheless, everything proceeded smoothly. Weekly updates reached Khan's cave while he was immersed in his isolated training, reassuring him about the event's progress. Even his Grandfather was finally flying to Baoway, so things were bound to improve.

Still, as much as Khan wanted to delegate most issues to his allies, he had to handle a few matters personally. His goals and position made that necessary, so he left his cave when the awaited update arrived.

Usually, a political meeting required the right level of decorum. Yet, rules didn't apply to Khan, especially on his planet, so he donned his red cape, crown, and pelts before setting off toward one of the quadrant's landing areas.

The quadrant had changed in those months. The vast encampment wasn't the main attraction anymore. Two huge buildings had grown in nearby areas, with one still in construction.

Khan flew toward the still-incomplete arena, inspecting its immensity from the sky. The place was oval, featuring multiple towers alongside its perimeter. It was also many stories tall, and each floor featured hundreds of rooms and other spaces.

Hordes of workers attended to the incomplete building, relying on big vehicles to deliver the heavy equipment. Metal pillars, kilometers-long wires, mana containers, and more reached the arena every day, gradually preparing it for its opening.

It felt a bit odd to realize the new position. Khan had gone from being a mere contender to planning what he hoped would be the greatest tournament in humankind's history. That change was another statement of his growth, but he wanted more.

Khan didn't care about the improved public opinion. He knew becoming indispensable for the Global Army was necessary, but his interests barely touched those topics.

However, the idea of benefiting lower families elated Khan. He could make sure no one else had his kind of life. He could remove the hurdles that afflicted the poor and uninfluential soldiers, giving them a stage where they could shine and earn their deserved spot in society.

'I might actually make good changes,' Khan realized.

The good feeling caused by the realization was short-lived. All those positive changes wouldn't amount to anything if Khan couldn't deal with the scarlet eyes' threat. Chances were some of the prominent descendants in his tournament would end up fighting that war with him, almost making him consider whether he was using the event for his goals.

'I changed, didn't I?' Khan accepted. 'Did I compromise myself? Was this what I was always supposed to become?'

Khan quickly dismissed those thoughts and flew toward the other new building. Obtaining a Thilku Embassy had been relatively easy due to his excellent relationship with the Empire. The Thilku themselves were also shifting focus from the Harbor to Baoway, and the former couldn't remain silent.

A human ship had landed before the Thilku Embassy. The ride's engines had lifted clouds of dust from the barren ground, but everything eventually settled, revealing the two sides facing each other.

One side had a series of Thilku soldiers appointed to protect the Embassy. The building also had other workers, including proper representatives who could communicate directly with the Lords.

Meanwhile, the other side had a series of human political figures, one of whom wore a Thilku cape. Mister Cirvags had landed on Baoway but didn't dare move until he received proper authorization.

Another human donning the Thilku cape suddenly landed between the two groups. Khan faced the humans, uncaring of his bare chest and generally dirty appearance. The political figures didn't notice it, either, since his presence was oddly suffocating.

"Welcome to the new Embassy," Khan announced, looking straight at Mister Cirvags. "From now on, our relationship with the Empire will be more direct. I made sure of it."

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