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Luther the mutt

The long hallway stretched before me, the emperors of the past gazing down with mournful eyes, while the yellow-white lights flickered above. I really didn't get it—why use electric lights to mimic the unsteady glow of torches?

"Your Grace." The captain of the Praetorian Guard bowed, his gaze dropping to the floor. His squad mimicked his gesture, all avoiding my eyes. "At this hour... May I ask what brings you here?" They were afraid, struggling to suppress the instinct to flee, relying on discipline to counter their fear.

"I'm here to do what I should have done long ago." I casually tossed the empty bottle in my hand to the floor, glass shards scattering everywhere. I raised my right index finger, issuing a clear ultimatum. "Get lost."

"I... my duty forbids me." His pupils dilated, his tail tucked between his legs, yet he remained rooted to the spot.

"I admire your loyalty. So, I'll assume it's either your legs giving out or your hearing that's failing, making you dare to continue blocking my way." My voice slowed as I unfurled my will, twisting the spear in his hand from the tip down, the long weapon shrinking under the sound of tortured metal until it was nothing but a ball the size of a thumb. "I won't repeat myself." A few shards of glass rose into the air, orbiting the captain's neck, their sharp points grazing his fur, cutting several white strands.

The soldiers behind him exchanged uncertain glances, but no one moved. I could see the captain was on the verge of tears—there's a world of difference between dying gloriously in battle and being crushed into a pulp by supernatural forces.

"For... the Empire." His voice trembled, but his pale blue eyes held a fatal resolve.

I sighed and lowered my hand. The glass shards and metal ball fell to the floor with a crisp clink. I really hated stubborn, foolish wolves. And, to make things worse, all the wolves of the Snow faction looked the same—white fur and blue eyes. That only annoyed me more.

I slammed the pack of idiotic wolves into the walls, using just enough force to knock them out.

Stepping over the unconscious bodies, I tore open the doors of the throne room with my will and flung them aside.

"Presenting to the Emperor." I strode toward the throne, using up all my reserves of sarcasm.

The white wolf lounged lazily on the throne, one arm resting on the ornate armrest, his chin propped on his hand. He slowly raised an eyebrow, his piercing blue eyes scanning me.

"At ease," he said casually, as if we were discussing lunch plans.

"Do you really think I'd accept that order? What a joke." Fearing his limited intelligence might not grasp what I meant, I waved my terminal in front of his face for emphasis.

"Refusing a direct order from the Emperor is treason, Archduke Luther." He switched hands, now resting his chin on the other. "Are you trying to lose your duchy? Plenty of others would kill for that title."

"I'm not exactly fond of sitting on that throne. My old injuries from service make sitting for too long painful—I need a chair with a higher backrest." His flat tone hit my sense of humor, and I bantered back. "Like, say, the one you're sitting on right now."

I unleashed my will, ready to rip that arrogant wolf off his throne and grind his face into the ground, but I slammed into an immovable barrier.

"I was giving you a way out." Though it would involve faceplanting into the floor, it still counted as mercy by my standards.

I kept walking toward the throne without slowing down.

"You presumptuous fool." The white wolf stood up, snarling. "I mastered my ability long before your mother even stopped nursing you."

With a mighty blast, the marble floor cracked, radiating out from the Emperor, irregular fissures spreading toward me. I pushed back with my will, halting the cracks a few meters before they reached me.

"I thought I was supposed to be the one throwing insults." I expanded my domain, crushing down on the Emperor's domain in return. He stumbled but managed to remain standing.

He glared at me, his blue eyes turning crimson with rage, as if they were about to shoot flames.

I've seen much harsher glares. Compared to those, this was… nothing.

I took another step forward, continuing to press down on him. Suddenly, the ground beneath me exploded, fragments of stone and dust scattering, blocked by my shield.

"Creative, Your Majesty." I waved the debris away. "But you're going to need a lot more firepower to shake me." I initially thought it was just a distraction, that the white wolf was planning to escape, but then I noticed the dark red liquid spreading across the floor—it was blood, circling me, seeping into the cracks in the marble.

"It seems that mutt didn't train you well enough," came the Emperor's voice, heavy pressure crashing in from all sides, compressing my consciousness, making it hard to breathe. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, forced down onto my knees. "Teaching mediocrity begets mediocrity, after all."

I mustered all my strength, pushing back with my consciousness, unable to stand but determined not to fall further. The blood closest to me began to boil, sizzling and bubbling.

"That useless mutt couldn't even fulfill the Empire's most basic request." The Emperor's furious eyes glowed red as he spat out his words. "The Empire asked for just one heir to inherit his power, just one!" He emphasized each word with wild gestures, shards of stone floating into the air, spinning as our domains clashed.

With a flick of his hand, a sharp whistle cut through the air. Fortunately, I was ready. Several metal fragments slammed into my barrier, flattening under the force.

"And instead, he produced a crippled little bastard?" The Emperor's fur bristled, his form swelling to nearly double its size. "I've been lenient, ignoring his 'deformities,' yet he couldn't even meet that one basic demand?" His tone was as bitter as if he'd swallowed something foul.

"You better take back those words." I stood up, my voice icy cold, even though I thought I had controlled my anger. "I won't allow anyone to insult Richter, or his son." I clenched my fists, feeling the pulse of power flow through me, the stone beneath my feet cracking into powder.

"A mutt standing up for a mutt?" The Emperor laughed. "I've never heard a funnier joke." He pretended to wipe tears from his eyes, his expression exaggerated.

"Ha. Ha." I let out a cold, humorless laugh and focused all my power on a single point of his barrier. I shattered it, sending him stumbling back with a grunt of pain. My attack hit the white wolf's defense, flinging him across the throne room and into the marble wall.

A deep crack snaked from where I stood to the spot where the Emperor lay pinned, splitting the throne room in two, the building trembling from the force of the impact. The Emperor groaned in pain, barely able to move.

"This will be over soon." The stones beneath my feet crunched as I walked toward the defeated Emperor. "Unless you want to make this messier than it already is." I pressed my will against the Emperor's defenses, feeling the cracks spread through his barrier like a web.

He raised his head with great effort, glaring at me with blood-red eyes. In his current state, it was impressive he could manage that much. He gritted his teeth, trying to speak but failing.

"If you insist." I shrugged, unbothered by the idea of tearing him into finer pieces.

"Luther, stop!" I turned to see a husky with dark gray fur, panting heavily as he leaped over the debris that had once been part of the building.

"Hunter." I nodded slightly at the Siberian Archduke but didn't release my hold on the Emperor, maintaining steady pressure. The Emperor finally screamed in pain.

"Stop it!" Hunter grabbed my right arm, pleading. "If you don't stop, I'll have to petition the Council for emergency arbitration."

Understanding the implications of his words hit me hard. I released my domain, and the Emperor collapsed to the ground, groaning again. I turned to face Hunter, meeting his gaze.

"Are you serious?" I forced myself to stay calm, focusing on the husky's brown eyes, which helped me keep control. I realized I had missed the clues—the blood compressing my domain and the adamantine he was using as weapons. My anger had blinded me.

"Emperor Piqsirpoq is a member of the Council." Hunter wrung his hands, sweat dripping from his soaked fur onto the cracked marble floor. "He's protected by the rules." He glanced between me and the Emperor before taking a deep breath, as if making a decision. "And you wouldn't want to kill Richter's brother, would you?"

"By the Rationalism Witness's ass hole, you've got to be kidding me!" I swore uncontrollably. I thought all wolves of the same faction just looked similar, but Richter was actually related to this bastard?

"Don't compare me to that mutt." The Emperor spat on the floor. "He's a mongrel from the Gray faction, not a pureblood Snow. He just got lucky, inheriting my father's white fur and blue eyes."

"So... the Empire's orders and policies, the Council has known all along?" I ignored the idiotic wolf, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, trying not to shout.

"Please!" The white wolf propped himself up against the wall, sitting upright as he laughed loudly and coughed, as if struggling to catch his breath. "Do you even understand what a shadow government is?"

"Was the latest order issued by the council?" I forced myself to ignore Piqsirpoq and asked Hunter, hoping he'd give me a negative answer. But the guilt and anxiety in his husky brown eyes said it all.

"What kind of nonsense did that mutt teach you to make you this clueless?" The white wolf continued his harsh laughter, and I really wished he'd laugh himself into choking and ascend on the spot.

"This is a critical moment, Luther..." Hunter murmured. "It's the beginning of the final reckoning, the prelude to all the events. The Lunar trigger has long been decided; the council weighed all the pros and cons and arranged the final script." He pleaded, staring directly into my eyes. "Even if you disagree, please don't intervene in a way that violates the rules."

"All your conspiracies can go directly into your own asses." I turned and left the throne room. I knew that if I stayed a second longer, I'd finish what had just been interrupted—tearing down the palace and letting that disgusting white wolf rest peacefully under the rubble, sparing us all from the pollution of his presence.

I couldn't care less about how to clean up this mess. If Piqsirpoq was also a member of the council, the shadow government would figure it out themselves.

The members of the guard squad still hadn't regained consciousness. Once again, I stepped over them, aiming to leave the palace via the shortest route. I took another glance at the hallway, lined with paintings depicting just how foolish past emperors could be. For a few seconds, I seriously considered digging a hole in the wall and summoning my airship directly.

“What do you want?" I snapped irritably, sensing Hunter's presence behind me.

“Well…" The husky awkwardly scratched his head. “The council notified me that, after you literally threatened to blow off the palace roof, I had the family engineers open a wormhole to send me over…" He tilted his head slightly and flashed a dangerously disarming smile. “Mind giving me a ride back?"

I sighed, rubbed my ear, and nodded, motioning to one of the corridors.

“Are you heading back to Moscow?" I asked after locating the airship at the landing pad, opening the cockpit door for Hunter and myself before starting to program the flight path.

“I thought I'd swing by to see Alexander," the husky said with a smile. “Let's head straight to Berlin."

“Speaking of which," the mention of his little husky irritated me further, “when are you going to pick up your son?" I activated the autopilot, confirmed the course, and the airship began its pre-flight preparations.

“Hey, you promised to train him," Hunter replied with an infuriatingly casual smile, which only made me more convinced that he was more interested in keeping the troublemaker as far from himself as possible than actually training the Marquis of Moscow's psychic abilities.

“That was Richter who made the promise," I pointed out, feeling a bit annoyed.

“And you inherited all of Richter's contracts," Hunter reminded me, delivering another inconvenient truth.

Crafty bastard.

If this husky would stop playing dumb so often, maybe I wouldn't constantly have to resist the urge to punch him.

The AI took control of the airship as it lifted off, accelerating and banking at a rate that would have been unbearable for most people. I expanded my consciousness to envelop Hunter, neutralizing the inertia caused by the gravitational forces.

“Oh… thanks," Hunter said, to which I waved my hand dismissively. I remembered he was an Epsilon-class psychic, so he should have been able to perceive the pulsations of my consciousness circle and understand what I was doing.

As the airship reached the stratosphere, I turned to look out the observation window, taking in the vast expanse of the endless, deep blue sky.

“Hunter…" After a long silence, I finally decided to voice the question that had been bothering me for so long. “Richter was the most powerful psychic of our time, wasn't he?"

“Before you came along, he absolutely was," Hunter said, turning to me. I could see his warm, encouraging smile reflected in the window.

“I'm pretty sure he's still stronger than me," I said quietly, recalling the times Richter had tossed me around like a ragdoll. “You saw his body too, didn't you?" Hunter's expression darkened slightly, but he nodded. “So… those wounds, they don't look like they were caused by Phantom. And besides me, who else could have actually hurt him?" I couldn't bring myself to voice the fear buried deep in the void of my soul. I didn't know whether I was seeking peace, redemption, or just a definitive answer. All I had were questions.

“No, it wasn't you. It wasn't your fault," Hunter said softly, giving me a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“If it wasn't me, why did Richter block my memories?" The question clawed at my insides like the darkest hour of night, tearing apart what little remained of my rationality and the illusion of safety. “Why… are there so many gaps in my memories? So many empty spaces, especially in the time I spent with him?"

“I'm sure Richter had a good reason for doing that. And don't forget, he couldn't have blocked your memories without your consent," Hunter said with a firm smile once again.

But what if I was just a coward, eager to avoid facing the truth? Where was this confidence of yours coming from, Hunter? Or was the real question whether your words were based on faith in me or simply on your ignorance—or knowledge—of the truth?

“What creed did you choose at your deployment?" After a long stretch of silence, I tossed out another question.

“The ends justify the means," Hunter said distantly.

“I didn't peg you for a utilitarian," I raised an eyebrow at him in response, a bit surprised by his answer. “So would you… I mean, for the greater good, lie and… no, guide me toward the right direction?"

“No, I wouldn't," he said with a slight tilt of his head and a faint smile.

“Are you lying to me now?" I asked.

“No, I'm not," he repeated, still wearing that faint smile.

“You know I could, if I wanted to, find out if you were lying, right?" I turned back, checking the instruments on the dashboard.

In theory, I was strong enough to read the surface-level fluctuations of Hunter's consciousness circle. Richter had demonstrated it to me once, but he warned me that it was a last resort. Violating someone's mental privacy against their will was a deeply immoral act—Richter had emphasized that. Man was cursed with freedom, but that curse was the core of what made humanity human.

“I know you can," he said, leaning back in his seat. “But I know you won't."

I snorted at the husky's declaration, unwilling to delve into whatever deeper meaning lay behind his words.

“The creeds and corresponding codes only serve as weighting factors for the final vote, and as keys for submitting memory. They're not some strict rules you have to follow." Hunter spoke as if to himself. “Maybe they help establish alliances and define enemies during deployment, but that's about it." He touched his chest, and I could see the outline of a pendant under his shirt. “The point of the division is to set the ambitious young council members on a journey, experiencing the world firsthand, putting their ideals and aspirations into practice, and ultimately arriving at their own answers." A faint smile appeared on Hunter's face. “If someone doesn't change, that would be more unusual."

I replied with a soft hum, imagining what Richter's thoughts and feelings had been when he embarked on his journey.

“So," Hunter continued, closing his eyes and relaxing into his seat, “don't feel like you have to follow the existentialist creed just because Richter passed his code onto you."

“Aren't I an existentialist?" I asked sincerely, sneaking a glance at the husky's reflection in the window.

Unexpectedly, Hunter let out a chuckle, though he kept his eyes closed, adjusting his position as if trying to find a comfortable spot.

“Looks like we've got plenty of time to discuss philosophy on the rest of this trip," he said, the corners of his mouth lifting as if recalling a fond memory.

“I'm all ears," I replied, which made Hunter laugh even more, to the point where he wiped the corner of his eye.

Before the husky could fully recover, I patted the dirt on my shoulder—dirt I hadn't noticed had gotten on me back at the palace. Glancing at the fine gray dust in my paw, I blew it into the light streaming through the window, watching as the countless particles danced in midair, clearly tracing their path through Brownian motion before our eyes.