If the Mid Hive was a melting pot and the Lower Hive a genuine garbage dump, then the Upper Hive was the exact opposite of the two combined.
It was nothing like the crowded districts and narrow, dim streets of the Mid Hive, nor the lightless, bottomless pit of the Lower Hive, lit entirely by artificial light. And the security and living conditions in both areas were horrendous.
In the Mid Hive, you could survive—you probably wouldn't die, after all, since the Imperium's reach still extended that far. But with low wages and terrible living conditions, especially the Adeptus Mechanicus' exhaust emissions and the dismal state of public sanitation, you wouldn't live well there. Still, the Imperium could at least guarantee you stayed alive.
As for the Underhive—ah, there's no need to go over that again, is there? You've seen enough already. And I'm sure you're all quite familiar with life in the Mid Hive, since it doesn't seem all that different from our everyday lives. Of course, I mean with the Ecclesiarchy's religious fanatics, the Adeptus Mechanicus' dogmatic Magi, the brutish enforcers, and the corrupt Imperial bureaucrats.
Well. Perhaps the difference isn't all that great.
But the Upper Hive was an entirely different matter. It had broad streets and fresh air, along with architecture that could only be called magnificent and exquisite.
Unlike the steel forests of the Mid Hive, the buildings here were breathtakingly beautiful, clearly designed and built with great care. Each palatial structure, adorned with sculptures and exquisite reliefs, was surrounded by neatly trimmed greenery.
The elegant gardens and street-side plants imbued the place with life. Each building stood a fair distance from the next, a far cry from the dense rows of buildings and people below. This place could truly be called comfortable.
Grand shopping centers, entertainment districts, hospitals, cinemas, and all kinds of clubs were everywhere. These were all part of the luxurious lives of the upper classes, arranged across the Upper Hive's streets and elevated platforms according to their own distinctive architecture and layout.
On the well-maintained, broad roads, one luxurious car and hover vehicle after another glided past. Traffic here was markedly different from that in the Mid Hive.
Elegant public streetlamps lined the roads, illuminating them. Each gold-trimmed lamp bore a tiny angel holding a lantern, from which the light that illuminated the world shone.
Vito leaned against the leather seat in the back of the car, his body turned to one side, one hand resting on the window as he gazed at the brightly lit, elegant buildings lining the streets. Their luxurious villas and palaces were clearly alive with nightlife; now and then, laughter and loud conversation drifted over.
Vito had only just arrived in the Upper Hive. He hadn't even been driving for ten minutes, yet he'd already passed four garden parties. The delicious food, extravagant pleasures, and sheer waste on display could have kept many an Imperial citizen alive for a lifetime.
Vito had visited quite a few Hive Cities, and of course he'd seen scenes like this before. The lives of the Imperium's nobles and powerful were always so extravagantly indulgent. Still, he had to admit, the indulgence on Victoria Planet seemed even more outrageous than usual.
Vito was certain he'd seen some rather unorthodox forms of entertainment—or perhaps something more like the kind of amusement Chaos worshippers might enjoy?
Vito gave an amused smile and sighed. Beside him in the car, Henry was also leaning against the window, watching the countless lights outside. "Every time I come up to the Upper Hive, it makes me deeply uncomfortable. Most people on this planet are suffering, struggling to stay above the poverty line, while these privileged bastards have been dancing and feasting every night for generations."
"Sometimes I wonder: if The Emperor really protects humanity, would he allow all this to go on?" Henry murmured. It sounded more like he was talking to himself, but Vito smiled and rested his chin on his hand.
"No, he wouldn't. At least, I don't think he would."
"Maybe. But The Emperor's light can barely reach here anymore. Or perhaps the Emperor on Terra stopped being the real Emperor long ago."
Henry spoke, his eyes reflecting the lights and scenes of revelry. "I heard he's become nothing but a corpse. These days, all that's left are the worms of the Imperial privileged class, using his radiance as an excuse to line their pockets and indulge themselves."
"I used to believe in The Emperor, and in the Imperium, Vito. But every time I come here, I ask myself why. Why do I believe in them at all? Thousands of years have passed, and nothing has ever changed. Maybe we should have stopped waiting for salvation from The Emperor long ago."
"Don't you think the Lord of Redemption, from beyond the stars, can bring hope and salvation?" Vito asked, turning his head slightly. Henry gave a bitter smile, sighed, and rubbed his neck.
"I believe, and yet I don't. I don't know why. I'm not as devout as Mosley. Since joining the family and the church, my way of thinking has certainly changed a lot, but I can't help feeling that some force—or some lingering thought, some will—is making me doubt everything we claim, and even the Lord of Redemption."
"I'm like—"
"A Chaos heretic?"
Henry froze for a moment, then gave a bitter smile. He slumped helplessly against the soft car seat. "Maybe. I keep thinking: our doctrine claims that all humanity, every living thing, is equal, and that everyone is equal before the Lord of Redemption. We can all receive our final salvation."
"But why do most of our senior leaders still live here, in the Upper Hive? Some of them are even part of the Imperium's privileged class. So why do they believe in the Lord of Redemption? For the good of all mankind?"
Vito seemed amused. "No. Remember? They're nobles and elites of the Imperium. Aside from the Ecclesiarchy and the Adeptus Mechanicus, they have little in the way of faith or loyalty."
"There are people like that even in the Ecclesiarchy, and in the Adeptus Mechanicus too."
"The Imperium binds them to its war machine with wealth and power. I doubt they follow the Lord of Redemption out of faith. They're not religious fanatics like Mosley."
Henry fell silent, his eyes reflecting a kaleidoscope of colors, all mingling into a dazzling festival of lights.
"Tell me, Vito. Did you have something to do with Mosley's disappearance?" Henry asked. The atmosphere in the car turned cold, and a suffocating silence lingered for a moment.
Vito watched a statue slide past the window. It was an angel. "Directly? No. But I knew he would disappear."
"You're honest, Vito. That's as good as admitting you had Mosley killed."
"I'm not going to lie to you, brother. And I don't think I'm directly responsible."
"Yes, I knew Mal would find Mosley through the traitor and make his move. I said at the meeting that there was a traitor among us, conspiring with them."
"But you still sent him there—or at least encouraged him to go."
Vito sighed deeply. "You know he would have gone even if I hadn't said anything. He would've gone on his own and ruined all our plans. So yes, I encouraged him to go. And I knew there was a good chance he wouldn't come back."
"I used Mal to get rid of him. Neither of us has to bear the responsibility or the blame. No one will ever know. And now the Underhive Convent is safe."
"We took the Hammer Factory, and there's no longer a madman urging everyone to do one more insane, incomprehensible thing after another."
Henry shook his head, still gazing out at the splendid buildings. One was a vast, garden-like structure, its grounds filled with countless blooming flowers and neatly trimmed greenery.
"You're not devout, Vito. I know you went down to the Underhive for power too. You're no different from the people here."
Henry's voice seemed to come from a dark void, ethereal and distant. Though they sat less than half a meter apart, it still sounded as if it came from an endless emptiness.
Vito smiled and clasped his hands over his stomach. "Yes, I won't deny it. I went down there for my own reasons: power, wealth, desire, and all the rest. Just like most people."
Henry smiled and rubbed his head. "You really are honest. Most people won't admit that."
Vito smiled too. "I'm not going to lie to you, brother. I'm just telling it like it is."
As Vito spoke, the car suddenly came to a stop. Looking confused and curious through the front window, he saw a guard in a splendid uniform, wearing the emblem of a private family. Clearly, he was guarding some wealthy household, not serving as a local enforcer.
The gatekeeper in a blue uniform trimmed with gold thread exchanged a look with the driver. Neither said a word. Then the guard signaled to the sentry post nearby, and the heavy iron gate slowly swung open.
They drove into a garden—a private estate that seemed to cover a vast area, complete with fountains, sculptures, and all kinds of artistic structures. Vito narrowed his eyes as he took it all in.
A moment later, the car stopped outside a palatial building. Henry smiled and opened the door beside him. "You're honest, Vito. You'll like him."
"Who?"
"Come out and see for yourself."
Henry got out first, and Vito followed. His boots touched the white marble floor, and his black eyes lifted toward the magnificent building.
Vito froze, then gave a helpless smile. "Of course. What was I even wondering about?"
That was right. This was just the Planetary Governor's palace on Victoria.
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