Is This a Moral Question?

"I had sought it countless times,"

Neos said leisurely. Malcador, beside him, cast him a distrustful look.

"And in the end, I realized that the only thing imprisoning an individual was their fixed way of thinking."

"What are you trying to say?"

"A sense of morality and the boundaries of one's understanding limited people. Consciousness was the true judge determining the mechanisms of reward and punishment in their minds. Just as an uneducated, unsocialized human would not feel ashamed of patricide or filicide."

Malcador raised an eyebrow in disagreement.

"You're saying people had too much of a moral conscience?"

"I am merely stating that will determined action—humans born into gladiatorial worlds would not suffer over killing, while someone from a mid-level Hive City might be tormented by guilt over it."

Neos spread his hands as they continued down the Imperial Palace's long, magnificent corridors, now covered in dust.

"Human society shaped a fresh soul through social interaction and education, but we could still alter the shackles the old world had placed upon our thoughts through our own efforts."

Malcador suddenly stopped. Frowning slightly, he gripped his staff tightly and turned to study Neos.

His expression vaguely resembled, No, bro?

"Are you saying that the only person in the Imperium currently trying to work was too concerned with saving face?"

Neos paused for a moment before smoothly continuing,

"That might have something to do with him spending most of his time asleep."

The Emperor added.

Malcador's mouth twitched.

"You should be grateful he still possessed a conscience—otherwise, I could not imagine what would happen."

But Neos did not object. Instead, he nodded in agreement.

"Precisely. I had never been so grateful for, or approving of, the effort he put into maintaining his identity. But sometimes, I thought he could learn to