Chaos' Heir

Habits Nitis had carved into Khan's brain took control of his actions, trapping him into a wild, unrestrained chain of desires. He couldn't fix the disgust he felt, but diving into his lust could hide it, especially since Monica was far more than that.

There was no going back. The pain wouldn't disappear, but experiencing it was a choice Khan didn't make. He still felt it, but Monica's presence always distracted him again.

Monica was usually more proactive, but Khan's endless stamina eventually got to her. She couldn't help but fall prey to his every desire, preventing her mind from thinking clearly. Everything became hazy, tiring her beyond her limits and making her fall asleep as soon as Khan stopped. Deep, exhausted breathing resounded in Khan's ears as he lay on the bed. Monica slept on him, but his eyes wouldn't close. They stared at the wall ahead, occasionally inspecting Monica and the spots on the messy sheets while thoughts afflicted his mind.

Ruling humankind had never crossed Khan's mind, but he could see his path leading him there. It wasn't only an issue of the scarlet eyes. As things stood, Khan would succumb to eventual ploys or continue to rise until no one could contradict him.

That wasn't the kind of force Khan wanted. He couldn't trust people who followed him out of fear. Yet, the matter sounded like an unavoidable compromise. Also, something similar had happened with the Scalqa. It seemed he had already taken that step.

Images from the slaughter tried to return, but Khan looked at Monica to distract himself. Her naked beauty carried many traces of the recent passion, but Khan mostly lost himself in her face. He wouldn't know what to do without her, and those thoughts didn't only involve her legs and everything between them.

Monica had always known Khan's true worth. She had understood it far earlier than him, and her insights into his character had even helped him unlock new abilities. It almost sounded impossible for such a jealous, childish, and bratty woman to be so wise, but there she was.

Khan reached for Monica's face to move a curl away, but his palm ended up glued to her cheek. Monica kept sleeping even while Khan ran his thumb over her lips. He wanted more of her but focused on his love to contain himself.

'I wonder if you know, Khan thought, leaning forward to kiss Monica's forehead. 'You are my only real connection to humankind.'

Khan had human friends, but none of them implicated the entirety of humankind with their existence. Instead, Monica forced Khan to consider their species on multiple levels. At first, he had only needed to delve into politics to make his relationship survive, but things had long since escalated.

That probably was part of the reason behind Khan's spiritual loneliness, but blaming Monica never crossed his mind. Actually, his brain reached opposite conclusions. He would have still experienced that awful feeling sooner or later, but having Monica gave him a real home. Khan was happy whenever she was in his arms.

'How can I make her happier?' Khan wondered, retracting his head to watch his sleeping fiancée.

The conversation with Brigadier General Seycomb popped into Khan's mind. The vague exchange about the evolved soldiers raised a concern. Khan was confident in his fighting skills, but those mysterious assets had an unknown power level. Realistically, he wouldn't be enough against them. Not yet, at least.

Khan pondered for a while before making a decision. He caressed Monica's cheek once more before trying to slide his arm from under her head. He succeeded, but a hand reached for his elbow, and a drowsy voice followed.

"Are you leaving?" Monica asked, still half-asleep.

"I need to make some calls," Khan explained.

"Take me," Monica whined, too tired to voice a complete request.

Khan chuckled, seizing the mostly fallen sheet and laying it on Monica before lifting her. He princess-carried her to the living room and settled on a couch. Monica quickly fell asleep again, resting her head on Khan's lap while he connected his phone to the interactive table.

Leaving the bottles on the floor turned out to be a saving grace. Khan ordered the flat's robots to carry them to the living room while completing the procedures for an important call. By the time someone answered, Khan had already taken a few sips.

"Cousin," Prince William's voice resounded from the interactive desk. "It's early."

"I'll accept our Grandfather's request," Khan declared, "Under certain conditions."

"Which conditions?" Prince William asked, awakened by Khan's words.

"We'll discuss them here," Khan stated, "In my flat."

"That's quite the power play," Prince William commented. "Our Grandfather will never come. My sister or I will act as representatives."

"That works," Khan agreed. "You handle the specifics." "Will do," Prince William said. "See you soon, Cousin."

Khan ended the call without minding pleasantries. He had taken another big step. Seizing the reins of his family's faction was no light matter, but he needed its assets for the time being. Most importantly, the Global Army had to believe Khan had control over them.

Mouthfuls of booze went by as Khan reviewed his situation. As minutes passed, his hands alternated between the holograms, Monica's hair, and the bottles. The situation on the network evolved during that short window, but the desk kept Khan updated, allowing him to modify his plans accordingly.

Theoretically, Khan would need to spend the next months dealing with the political repercussions of his change in status and actions. During his time in the Harbor, he made many friends and acquaintances, and that process helped him on various levels. It didn't only reinforce his position. It also made his relationship possible.

Ignoring those social connections would reflect poorly on Khan, and his political character desperately needed a helping hand. Still, everything was different now, especially Khan, so each meeting would require renegotiations and similar deals.

It wouldn't be easy to deal with people used to seeing Khan as a mere gifted student, and his new vibe wouldn't help, but the issue had to be handled. Even as a noble, a social array was useful for multiple purposes, but the same could be said about his other title.

No matter how Khan spun it, securing his position as an Ambassador had to come first. The event would simply bring too many benefits and authority, but another trip to Baoway was required to fulfill what he had in mind. Khan already knew how to handle the situation. He just needed to inform the necessary assets and prepare accordingly.

Contacts popped left and right on the holograms. Khan wrote messages but didn't send them. The timing was key, and securing his Grandfather's official support would grant the most leverage. He had to wait, but his return had provided him with something to keep him busy.

Khan activated the necessary precautions before tapping on a new label in his phone's magic items folder. The name "Transcendent Step style" shone in his eyes, filling his mind with curiosity. The human power system didn't mean anything to him anymore, but a martial art that had scored ninety-nine points was bound to attract his interest.

'Apex of the footwork-focused martial arts, Khan read on the initial description. 'Unbeaten sprints, attacks, and deadliness.

The introduction felt interesting, but Khan didn't know how much the Global Army could achieve by sticking solely to human methods. Moreover, he had mastered the Lightning-Demon style, which, coupled with his alien arts, was capable of immense power. Surpassing his standards would be hard.

Nevertheless, Khan grew more intrigued as the description delved into deeper details. The explanations turned into simplified diagrams meant to convey the martial art's prowess. According to the file, its techniques made movement possible without the actual need to move.

The benefits of that practice were evident to Khan. He had achieved something similar with his current martial art, although his sudden movements came from a mixture of speed and help from the symphony. The ability to attack without triggering survival instincts or other reactions was massive, and the Transcendent Step style seemed to use it as its baseline.

The martial art didn't stop there. The sudden, allegedly invisible attacks were only part of its move set. Successful executions would release enough power to pierce the sturdiest metal and send shockwaves. Everything was on the accumulated momentum, but performing such feats required more than simple control.

Khan read and read, reaching explanations accompanied by videos. The file didn't have actual soldiers performing the techniques. It only showed simulations meant to depict the martial art's ideal mana flow, but Khan still had to hold back from frowning. He had to admit he had never seen anything so complicated.

The Transcendent Step style seemed to require multiple minute strands of mana constantly flowing in opposite directions, clashing to generate the necessary power. Its moves needed explosions of energy that had to happen inside the leg muscles, joints, and even flesh.

"This can't be right, Khan thought. 'No human can have this level of control over mana!

Khan could barely keep up with the explanation, and he was a master in the field, especially for human standards. He couldn't even imagine how long an ordinary soldier would have to struggle to begin testing the file's theory, but the answer to his confusion arrived by the end of the read.

'As massive as its theoretical power is, Khan read, "The Transcendent Step style is best used in limited instances, often focusing on a single form. Mastery over all of them has been impossible to this day!