Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: Voyage to the Void Star
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It took a full twenty-four days to fly from the Alliance capital on Andromeda's Goldwater to Void Star, including the warp jumps.
Conditions on a military warship couldn't exactly be called luxurious, but with only two people aboard, they were more than comfortable. The auto-clean systems kept the living areas spotless every day, the temperature perfect, the air fresh, and the entertainment options plentiful. The smart service system whipped up nutrient-packed meals daily, leaving the two passengers with nothing to worry about.
Celia even discovered a private hydroponic plot in the ship's lab, where he could grow fast-maturing veggies in organic soil. They ripened in just two or three days, and thanks to the precise climate control, they tasted fantastic.
Considering Heinrich was shackled all day with no room to move, Celia planted some vitamin-rich bushberries to help balance his hormones. But the bushberries were packed with water, and Heinrich ended up demanding a bathroom trip every hour. Celia had no choice but to turn Gryphon into a handgun and hold it to his head while escorting him.
Even the emperor could be shameless when he wanted to be. Standing there in the bathroom with his dick in hand, he suddenly asked,
"What are you doing?"
"—Huh?"
Celia looked up in surprise, and their eyes met in the mirror. Heinrich pounced like he'd caught him red-handed.
"You're peeking at me!"
Celia: "..."
If this were on some Empire street, an Alpha claiming he'd been sexually harassed by an Omega would get beaten to death by the crowd. But Heinrich loved pulling this stunt every few days. At first, Celia ignored him, but eventually he got fed up. The next time the emperor tried it, he shot back casually,
"So what if I am?"
"..."
"It's not like I haven't seen it before. What, you think it'll shrink if I look again?"
"..." Heinrich finally realized he was losing ground. "Oh... uh, does it look good?"
"Looks good. Real good." Celia couldn't resist teasing. "Why don't you just strip naked and go for a stroll with it out? Save yourself tripping to the bathroom every hour to drop your pants. How about that?"
This was a military warship—the emperor wasn't shameless enough to streak. He grumbled and tucked himself away.
"You're just afraid of the hassle..."
"You're just looking for trouble every damn hour."
"Who told you to cuff me?"
"Who told you to get caught?"
They bickered all the way out of the bathroom. Celia then cuffed Heinrich back in the command hall. The emperor eyed the crimson-gold Gryphon handcuffs on his wrists and suddenly chuckled.
"If I fought back, would you really kill me?"
"I'd toss you in an Alliance prison."
"What about your heat?"
"Suppressants."
"You'd really let me beg for scraps under a guy like Douglas?"
"Why not?" Celia paused, then added, "I'd lock him up too. You two could keep each other company flashing your dicks in prison."
Heinrich burst out laughing, and Celia shook his head with a smile, as if even he found it ridiculous.
He settled into the armchair across from Heinrich with a book—an ancient leather-bound edition of *Imperial History* dug up from some forgotten corner. Physical books were rare luxuries these days, and this one, with its gold-embossed silver cover thick enough to brain a burly Alpha like Heinrich, was clearly a limited-edition military history gift from the emperor to Ninth Fleet brass. It practically screamed special significance.
Celia pored over it with keen interest. After a bit, he couldn't help asking,
"Did the Alliance really suffer a 25-to-9 casualty ratio against the Empire in the First Galactic War?"
The emperor glanced at the ceiling.
"Mm-hmm."
"Running all over the place?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Almost forced to relocate the capital?"
"...Mm-hmm."
Celia turned a page, shaking his head with a laugh.
"You really should bunk with Douglas for some prison dick-flaunting."
Heinrich's face flushed a little. He hemmed and hawed, unable to counter. Finally, out of retorts, he huffed,
"Douglas is Edna Konsetlin's father. You'd lock him up? One tear from his daughter in front of you, and you'd be heartbroken."
Celia's memories hadn't fully returned, and even the fragments he had were hazy. He vaguely recalled his connection to Edna, but that was one thing—feelings were another. Any lingering fondness was minimal, especially after seeing her with Principal Caroline at the Royal Academy. So he had no other thoughts on it.
He just shook his head.
"That's different. Whether she cries or not has nothing to do with me."
Heinrich snorted.
"Not pitying the fair sex anymore?"
"Douglas is a threat to the Alliance's progress. He has to go."
"Even if his daughter cries?"
"I said it doesn't matter."
"What if she comes to you all teary-eyed, begging..."
"What's with you today?" Celia finally looked up from his book, puzzled. "Is this really that hard to grasp? If I cried at you, would you disband the army? Cry a bit more and you'd dissolve Parliament? What if I came at you all teary-eyed and begged—would you abdicate?"
Heinrich actually pondered it seriously for a moment.
"The Empire isn't just mine. I couldn't decide that alone."
Celia smirked, about to return to his book, when Heinrich added,
"But abdicating? That's worth considering."
He said it dead serious, no hint of a joke. Celia looked up, genuinely surprised.
"Oh? And who'd take the throne?"
"Our child."
"..." Even with his sarcasm maxed out, Celia's mouth twitched as he stared at Heinrich. The man's chiseled, bronze-sculpture face held nothing but earnestness in his eyes.
"Celia, our child will be the one person in this universe best suited to lead humanity forward. If the day comes when the emperor becomes an obstacle to the Empire, I need someone to legitimately replace me—someone who can wield the emperor's power to dismantle the emperor's role itself, overthrowing and rebuilding the entire system. That person needs the backing of so-called 'divine right.' In other words, our child is the best—and only—choice."
Celia's gaze shifted slowly. He closed the book, locking eyes with Heinrich.
"Why bring this up now?"
"I've been thinking about it forever. Remember when I tried to crack open Phoenix?"
Back then, Heinrich had pulled every trick to get Phoenix—even using Aaron as cover while he raided the academy for the mech, nearly nabbing cadet Gavin hiding in the lab.
"Back then, I wanted your... body's DNA to clone an heir. That child would inherit your unmatched prestige and public adoration. Born with support from all political factions, when the time came to challenge the Empire's system, resistance from every class would be minimal... People would see him as destined to bring democracy to the Empire. Celia, he'd have immense political weight. I need that child."
Silence settled, broken only by the faint hum of the drive systems.
Celia's hand absently stroked the book cover. After a long moment, he said coolly,
"You're hinting at a constitutional monarchy..."
A normal person might've snapped, "You want to use my kid as a political pawn?"
But the marshal and the emperor operated on a different wavelength. Heinrich leaned forward intently.
"I'm not sure it's the only path, but I'll try everything until we find the right one."
·
Celia went quiet for a long time after that talk, as if mulling over Heinrich's words' plausibility deep in his mind. Two days later, as they sipped tea by the massive floor-to-ceiling viewport, with the emperor on his thousand-and-first attempt to mentally wrest control of Gryphon from him, Celia suddenly spoke.
"Political reforms take ages, Heinrich."
The emperor looked up in surprise, then caught on.
"So?"
"The Gemini Empire's barely fifty years old. Most nobles are war profiteers and arms dealers who invested in the Empire during the First Galactic War, plus holdovers from Alliance elite families. In wartime, they funded you, fought for you, fed you Alliance intel—valuable allies. But in peacetime, their power ballooned, threatening the throne. That's why you're unhappy with them."
"Over time, you've realized one man can't fix every issue in this vast territory—many caused by those nobles—so you've started doubting yourself, thinking absolute rule is too risky. One misstep, and you'd be the galaxy's eternal villain."
Heinrich's brow furrowed slightly.
"...So what are you saying?"
"Your dissatisfaction with dictatorship boils down to clashing ideologies with the nobility. That's rare in human empires. Usually, the emperor's interests align with the great nobles and landowners. 'Dictatorship' isn't one man—it's a class ruling the nation. The system enforces that naturally. You just need time."
Heinrich got it instantly.
"You're saying I'll change my mind in a few years?"
Celia didn't deny it, nodding calmly.
"When you reach consensus with the nobles—either you bend or they do; I'd bet on you—from that moment, the Empire runs smoother. Old problems become solvable, the autocracy doesn't seem so bad; I doubt you'd still push constitutional monarchy then."
They sat by the viewport, stars twinkling across the vast cosmos. Far off, the Andromeda Nebula gleamed like a chain of light, its spiral arm slowly turning into the distant dark.
Heinrich was silent for a long time.
"It's all your speculation, Celia..." At last, he murmured, "But people differ. History doesn't always repeat."
He knew, deep down, Celia's view wasn't baseless.
Celia had been a dictator too.
It was perhaps the Alliance system's strangest quirk—after a millennium, Parliament inevitably stagnated and rotted. The surging military needed a strong leader. That was Gavin Celia.
In fighting the Konsetlin political incursion, purging the military and Parliament, quelling the Ophiuchus mutiny, and more, Celia had ruled by fiat. His policies couldn't go through Parliament—it *was* the problem.
Nor could he consult the military—soldiers aren't democrats; military rule breeds dictatorship. So he'd tightrope-walked a years-long dictatorship over the Alliance government, enacting perilous but efficient reforms. Amid public acclaim, he realized he'd become democracy's biggest foe.
"Power tastes so sweet..." Celia paused, sighing. "That feeling—ideas implemented instantly, no delays, everyone marching to your beat—it's a temptation no ruler can resist."
Heinrich thought, *Not me.* But then, his situation differed: Empire classes weren't unified. The Alliance back then? Celia's birdcage—every bird's head ran through his hands. True dictatorship.
Celia inhaled, then exhaled slowly, fully, as if purging some foul air from his lungs.
"You're eloquent now: dictatorship as harsh medicine cured the dying Alliance, then evolves to constitutional monarchy, looping back to the ideal start. But time doesn't bend everything your way. Your firm will today? Tomorrow's biggest variable."
He rose, empty teacup in hand, heading for the cabin door. At the threshold, Heinrich's steady voice came from behind.
"You know some convictions time can't defeat?"
A flicker of skepticism in Celia's eyes. After a beat, Heinrich chuckled.
"Darling, plenty of times I can do what you can't—you just won't believe it."
·
Since boarding, they'd slept in separate rooms each night—Heinrich Gryphon-cuffed to his bed, Celia's room across the hall. That night, Heinrich tossed and turned over their discussion till deep into the night, sleepless. Suddenly, he rolled over.
"Gryphon?"
Gryphon warily:
"What?"
"Could you loosen the bonds a bit?"
"..." Gryphon said mournfully, "Your Majesty, my loyalty to the Empire is unquestioned, but the Marshal ordered me to keep you locked down. You know how fierce he can be..."
Heinrich didn't seem tempted to punch the mech. Instead, he coaxed patiently,
"Did he say to keep me 'like this,' propped against the bed?"
"Well... he didn't specify the exact position."
"Then if you let me stand, hands cuffed behind my back, torso immobile—is that still 'locked'?"
Gryphon paused.
"I—guess so?"
"Can you do that?"
Gryphon's instincts screamed something was off, but it couldn't pinpoint why. Under the emperor's piercing ice-blue stare, it hemmed and hawed.
"It's not *impossible*..."
Celia controlled mechs purely mentally, but no AI matched human cunning. Gryphon would obey "cuff the emperor's hands," but Heinrich's sophistry muddled it—changing posture didn't violate the hard order.
Kirin or Phoenix would've slapped the emperor into the next galaxy. Gryphon just pondered weakly.
"So... what exactly do you want to do?"
"Daylight talk with Celia—I didn't get it. Wanna ask him tonight." Sensing Gryphon's waver, Heinrich's face darkened. "—Or do you *not* want to hold Phoenix's hand anymore!"
Gryphon yelped:
"Phoenix is Gavin's!"
"Now in *my* hands! Tomorrow, I pair her with Bian!"
"Nooo!!"
Heinrich narrowed his eyes. Gryphon caved completely.
"I'll still cuff you behind your back... If you harm the Marshal, I'll stop you! I swear I'll stop you right away!!"
Satisfied, Heinrich slipped free of the bed, stood with hands tightly cuffed behind, and shouldered the door open.
Celia's room across was dark but unlocked—standard for high-value targets guarded heavily; bodyguards could burst in if needed. Convenient now—no lockpicking for Heinrich.
The room was dead quiet. Distant starlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling window, shadows flowing like a serene river. Celia lay curled sideways deep in the big bed, fast asleep. Heinrich sat on the edge. In the dimness, his face looked innocently peaceful like a newborn's, lips parted slightly, glistening from breath—begging to be kissed.
This softness contrasted their daytime verbal sparring—no sharp retorts, just pliant vulnerability, like melting ice cream wafting sweet chill, tempting a heavy lick.
Heinrich stared motionless, etching that face into his soul forever. At last, he leaned down, brushing a dragonfly kiss to the pale pink lip corner.
—Omegas tired easily, low vigilance, hard to wake asleep. A weakness in nature's arena, but to Alphas? Adorably fatal.
Celia's case was mild, but Heinrich melted anyway. He flicked his tongue over those lips—soft, Q-bouncy like honey candy. Omega's sweet scent filled his breaths, stirring an urge to devour him whole.
"Mm..." Celia stirred faintly, brow furrowing as he turned away.
Heinrich smiled silently.
He kissed Celia's earlobe softly, trailed to his cheek, the lip corner, even slipping his tongue past the parted teeth. The caress turned teasing. He pulled back to study Celia up close, gaze on the fluttering lashes with each breath. He gazed quietly, unaware his own eyes brimmed with affection.
"See where you get suppressants now..."
Heinrich smirked triumphantly, then bit his own tongue tip. Salty blood welled. He dove in for a deep, heavy kiss.