Lux Locus: Fractured Family
Passive-Aggressive

Diyam was the name of the planet the prosecutor was going to, and it was a central planet housing multiple vital structures of the Magus Imperators. Similar to Earth, Diyam possessed a multitude of different environments on its surface which the humans were quick to exploit. Unlike the vast majority of human worlds, this one's cities spread across vast swaths of land, destroying much of the verdant green of the plains and forests and the glowing blue of the wide oceans.

"This planet is doomed," Zenith spoke suddenly.

"How so?" one of the crew members asked. "I see a great and powerful planet of the Terran Expanse growing larger and larger."

"Resource repurposing."

"Huh?"

"Our cities grow high to minimize the impact upon the environment and maximize all available resources for harvesting. Waste is also repurposed and reused. It's not to demonstrate our ability in the architectural fields that we grow our cities the great black of space."

"Your transport is ready, Prosecutor," a man spoke from speaker phones built into the walls.

The personal discus of Zenith was an antique; A model phased out four hundred years ago, its shape had remained the same throughout time. However, it was not fully magitech as most human constructs in this day and age. One large stripe of glass served as a window on either side of the circular body which, unlike the 'modern' equivalent, did not rotate to reveal openings.

Instead, the passenger compartment was accessed via a large, deployable platform from the rear of the vessel. The vessel retained Zenith's preferred colors: Black of the Magus Imperators for most of the body, and green for the edges around exhausts, the cockpits, the wigs, and even the engines and their rotors. It took a considerable amount of time and effort to maintain this fossil of the Cenozoic Era, and not many people understand the use of it.

"Why DO you keep this old heap, prosecutor?" a regimentary asked from the comfort of a seat in the discus. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"What is it to you?" Zenith replied.

"It's an old dust heap. This thing has NO advantages over current models."

"It doesn't even have proper magitech support," another added. "I don't like flying in this thing."

"That's why I never take it to warzones. It's a symbol more than anything else." Zenith paused for a moment. "It's related to the reason I even became a prosecutor."

"I see."

The discus landed atop one of several hundred mechanized arms hanging over a waterfall so high that light could not reach its base and illuminate the darkness below. Despite the size of the city, most of the environment remained clean. At least, the environment one could see. The platforms, which were just a small part of retractable arms, leveled off at eighteen stories with the lowest floors having been built into an ex-territory of the waterfall.

The arm folded and brought the discus to the massive expanse of concrete. The stones used for its construction were all white, but due to the salt water around, the stones would often become tarnished and start breaking down, so it wasn't uncommon to see a group of people replacing or cleaning the floors. Several patches of grass were also built into the reception zone and made to adopt several different kinds of shapes, from simple curves and zig-zags to more complex forms such as regimentaries and pillar scieldans.

Civilians from all the echelons of society stared at the discus and what came out of it. The symbol of the Magus Imperators had been painting large enough to engulf the whole sides of the vessel. It was a great way of being indiscreet, and it showed. All eyes turned to Zenith and his retinue. It was not uncommon for a prosecutor on such a world that they practically owned, but it was not often that a member of such high ranking appear.

"M-may I help you, sir?" a man asked.

The greeter was a scrawny thing wearing an all-blue uniform. He was hunched over and wringed his hands together nervously, although his intentions were still pure. Or so it seemed.

"Yes. You may meet Mana Magis and tell him why you serve a blood demon."

"A what? I assure you, prosecutor, that I have no idea what yo--"

A loud bang followed by the limp thudding of the man's body prevented the greeter from saying more. Zenith shot him through the head using the decorated pistol made for him by the father of Killigan Ghor. It was a personal treasure he refused to part with. Several of the civilians ran up to the greeter's body but were kept in place by some rounds shot at them by the regimentaries.

"Why did you do that?!" a woman cried. "He didn't do anything to you!"

"That's just like the prosecutors to judge someone before even meeting them and killing them!"

The crowd was getting antsy, causing the few guards some discomfort. Zenith, however, remained unfazed. What nobody noticed was the unusually large amount of blood slowly pooling out of the body moving ever so slightly forward and away from the greeter's head. Zenith pulled out a 'blessed' sword and 'stabbed' the puddle, making it go berserk and fly around everywhere.

The crowd broke into pieces and backed away immediately. While the prosecutor started mumbling prayers of Mana Magis and another, lesser known deity, the puddle began to slow its movement and gradually evaporate into little crackles of mana and dust. He kicked the body when he got back up to continue his path to the entrance scanners further away, dragging his retinue.

"Stupid demon hosts," he muttered under his breath. "They always see themselves as invisible to everyone else, but they can't hide the threads of mana from me."

The entrance to the city was funneled into a large area allowing sixteen lines to go in and sixteen lines to go out. The entrance was decorated by heavily, inward inclined, hollow parallelograms parallel to the lines. A few digital screens glowed along the hollow area, placing ads and propaganda not only for productivity but for recruitment in various areas such as the regimentaries or a few pillar foundations. Beams of blue mana kept everyone in place and a group of armored security officers kept a close to everything going on. This allowed a speedy access to and from the city, but Zenith and his retinue weren't going to take such a 'scenic' route. They walked to the far right of the lines where an empty space was present behind plants, sculptures, and machines.

The people who saw protested for barely a moment until they saw the actor, opting instead to remain silent. The security officers also saw and went to intervene. However, Zenith was not having it and pushed them aside, opting instead to reach the chief security officer. Like the rest of those under her command, the chief wore thick, blue, riot suits with not much else in decorative traits.

Several squarish drones used within the warehouses and docking bays of starships were sliding along the rails floating above the pathways and occasionally grabbing a person to drag them off as they kicked and screamed.

"I am prosecutor Zenith Canka," the man informed.

The chief stood up politely and greeted him. "I didn't think a prosecutor of your rank and stature would come to Diyam. What brings you here?"

"I received a task that one of our citizens has been spreading the word of a new deity."

The woman scratched the back of her helmet in disappointment. "Oh. Him. Yes."

"Have any strange events been happening since he started bring the praise of this deity?"

"No. On occasion someone disappears within his 'church' to pray, but that's the only thing that comes to mind." The woman started to think. "If you really need to see him, I'll have one of my officers escort you to his 'temple'."

"That would facilitate my job, although I don't have much to do..." The prosecutor shrugged comically.

"Then I will retrieve a transport officer to take care of everything for you."

"Thank you," Zenith replied.

He was grateful that this chief was so helpful, but something irked the prosecutor. It wasn't uncommon to find worshipers of Blumarak here and there, but to have a blood demon in the veins of a person meant that they were either the chosen champion or that they were dead, and that person's palor was very indicative of their long-death. That kind of demon wouldn't be just anywhere for no reason.

"He was never this clever, so I shouldn't expect that," Zenith thought. "It might indeed be that 'helpful' priest that did this, although I didn't ask the security officer for information regarding that person. I'll do that when she returns. I would be remiss of such an opportunity."

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