Reality 15

Khaine listened to those people's complaints and sighed softly.

"By the holy Emperor, we are born guilty and must temper ourselves through suffering."

The preacher's voice echoed from the public vehicle's speakers.

They were always so noisy, as if speaking loudly enough would make people believe them.

The Emperor did not have that much time to deal with these lunatics.

A somewhat heretical thought surfaced in Khaine's mind.

He knew such thoughts were disrespectful, but he could not restrain himself.

Those Chaplains said the Emperor loved everyone, so why was the gap between people so vast?

Some people had everything, while others had nothing.

Clearly, the Emperor simply could not keep an eye on everyone.

Those people were merely using the Emperor's name to swindle others.

Khaine turned to look out the window. Neon lights blinked over the chaotic, multilayered Hive City, and his gaze grew increasingly lost.

He did not know what meaning there was in being born.

Endless work, cramped housing, and twelve hours of labor every day.

Other than that, it seemed he had nothing.

Yet those Chaplains still said they were happy.

Where exactly was that happiness?

As Khaine's thoughts ran wild, the public vehicle stopped at a somewhat dilapidated metal platform.

[District 36 Station 2 has arrived. Passengers heading to Residential District 2, please disembark here.]

The mechanical announcement sounded, interrupting Khaine's thoughts.

He hurriedly stood and walked toward the door.

The instant he stepped out of the vehicle, he heard a beep.

The Credit for riding the public vehicle was deducted directly and transferred into the Public Transport Committee's account.

Citizens living in Hive City Khaine received a data chip upon reaching adulthood, recording their various personal details and financial account.

The chip was not private property of the citizen. It belonged to the Mechanicus Association.

The Mechanicus Association was responsible for maintaining all machinery in the Hive City. Every mechanical creation fell under their jurisdiction.

The data chip was merely something they leased to citizens.

After a citizen died, the Mechanicus Association removed the chip from the corpse, formatted it, and leased it to someone else.

Khaine suspected his data chip was at least two hundred years old, perhaps even older. It had passed through at least three or four people.

Many things in the Imperium were like this.

Their service lives were far longer than those of ordinary people.

With the Mechanicus Association's maintenance, such things could often be used for centuries, even millennia.

Khaine had only just gotten off when an incoming passenger shoved him aside.

The other person did not apologize. He simply walked into the carriage and found a seat.

Khaine had long grown used to it.

In this cold, cruel, oppressive world, everyone was this numb.

Walking along the metal corridor reeking of the distinctive stench of metal, Khaine heard a hum and looked up.

A luxurious private hover vehicle, bearing the Imperial Aquila and a family crest, swept overhead and weaved between the Hive City's towering buildings.

Envy filled Khaine's eyes as he watched the vehicle leave until it vanished from sight.

Those private hover vehicles were luxuries he could not afford even if he worked his entire life.

They belonged only to nobles from families with deep legacies.

Past the corridor connecting the metal platform, a few hundred meters ahead lay the crowded residential district.

People came and went here, and the air buzzed with voices.

Small vendors loudly hawked their goods: serums, meat, alcohol, and contraband acquired through special channels.

Projectors floated in some places, playing advertisements for various conglomerates and merchant guilds.

In darker corners stood gang members with all manner of markings painted across their faces.

They often had good goods on hand. With enough Credit, they could get you powerful plasma guns, well-maintained prosthetic limbs, or even all kinds of banned drugs.

Enforcers moved through the crowds, occasionally stopping before a vendor to demand their cut.

To do business in the residential district, one had to pay Hive City taxes, give a portion to the gangs, then another portion to the enforcers. Only what remained was their actual profit.

Every residential district was enormous, capable of housing millions.

Once people could officially work and had an income, they were forcibly assigned a home and made to pay rent.

Do not think about living with friends to save a little more money.

House Glaus did not like people who failed to support their real estate business. The enforcement agencies would come inspect, and anyone caught would be sentenced.

Once you married and had children, you also had to improve your living conditions, or you would be charged with child abuse.

Not having children would get you sentenced as well.

What if you had no job and no income?

Then you ended up like the man in front of Khaine: lying in a slightly dark corner, with all his possessions beside him, wrapped in a tattered blanket, sleeping as a vagrant despised by the upper levels and wished humanely disposed of.

"Hey, Khaine." The vagrant smiled when he saw him.

"Hey, Ban."

Khaine greeted him, rummaged through his clothes, and tossed him an energy bar.

"Thanks. May the holy Emperor bless you." The vagrant Ban tore open the energy bar, bit off half of it in one bite, and thanked him indistinctly.

"How's your leg?" Khaine asked as he walked over to the vagrant.

"It's not flexible anymore. Hard to use. The Mechanicus Association said maintenance would cost twenty thousand to fix it. If I'm willing to sell it, they can take it back too. The price is pretty good. I've already made a plan. When the time comes, I'll sell this mechanical leg and get myself a cane. Then I can treat you to a good meal, Khaine."

Ban revealed his mechanical leg and slapped it, producing a crisp sound.

Ban was not from this planet. He had originally been a soldier stationed in another sector, transferred here because of the war. When the war ended, he stayed.

At first, he could still live on his military pension.

Later, House Glaus took over as governor of the Natal System and claimed the system government was in financial difficulty and could not sustain itself. They told retired veterans to continue displaying their spirit of loyalty to the Emperor, then canceled their pensions.

Having lost his source of income, Ban could only end up on the streets.

"You're already having a hard enough time. Wouldn't using a cane make it even harder?" Khaine asked. "Maybe you could ask the black-market dealers. Their prices are much cheaper, though the goods might not be as good."

"Don't try to talk me out of it, Khaine. I've lived forty years and fought in more than twenty wars. I've seen Orks and Tyranids. I've lived enough. I don't want to keep living without dignity like this. I was once a soldier, but now I'm like a wandering beggar, asking everywhere for food."

Ban's words stunned Khaine, and he thought of something unpleasant.

"Are you going to kill yourself, Ban?"

"Yes. I've had enough. I enlisted when I was seventeen. I fought for the Emperor my entire life. I had enough medals to cover my whole body. But now I'm a wandering beggar. My honors cannot even buy me a bite to eat."

"Once I sell this mechanical leg, we'll go eat something good. Then you can collect my body. Put my medals together with my corpse. They're the only things I have. Whatever money is left afterward will be yours, if there's any left after the meal."

Listening to Ban, Khaine opened his mouth, yet could not say anything.

Suicide was nothing new. People killed themselves every day.

People in Despair, people who had provoked gangs, people who had offended nobles.

There were all kinds of reasons.

In a world this oppressive, suicide was a form of release.

"I'm going home." Khaine left as if fleeing. He did not want to discuss such a heavy subject with Ban any longer.

Dragging his exhausted body along, Khaine returned to his cramped home, barely thirty square meters in size.

The room was old and cold. The wooden floor had been severely worn down, and the walls no longer bore any trace of what they once looked like, only greasy white patches.

The creaking ventilator shook its oil-stained blades, pushing out the stale air and drawing in the equally terrible air outside.

Khaine turned on his battered holographic Projector.

Before the program officially began, an advertisement played first.

[Brave citizens of the Imperium, be filled with passion once more! Believe in the happy life House Glaus has brought you. The holy and great Emperor once said that a worker should die at his post, not in his sickbed. House Glaus has launched a brand-new serum, Vitality No. 1 Serum, which can stimulate the human nervous system and make people full of vigor once more.]

[No energy after staying up late to work? Drink Vitality No. 1 Serum. Your wife isn't satisfied? Drink Vitality No. 1 Serum. Sick and weak all over? Drink Vitality Serum.]

[Choose House Glaus Vitality No. 1 Serum, guaranteed to keep you full of vitality.]