The giant decided to take a step, causing korr to tremble, hunching over in panic. The man's expression became harsh, in complete disgust at that action.
"Straighten up! You are a son of the empire!", the man exclaimed, clicking his teeth.
"I feel his fear from a mile away." Thought vorath, before frowning even more. He would have to work on this, since, in the empire, no viltrumite was a coward. Those who were, were exterminated 2000 years ago for their own weakness.
The order fell on korr like an anvil. It was as if his survival depended on the order that had been given to him. Without delaying a moment, he straightened his back until it was as straight as he could. His shoulders tensed, his chin lifted.
It was like instinct, but he had adopted a military posture, similar to the time he had been forced to perform mandatory service at 18. His mind went blank, responding to orders by mere instinct, as if he were in those horrible days at the military center.
The giant, voraht, seemed to raise an eyebrow, but nodded at that response from the newborn. He still felt his fear, but he seemed to grasp orders with extreme ease. That was good.
"I am vor-aht. General Commander of the second pacification wave." The giant introduced himself, his words were strong but simple, as simple as it was true that the empire's afternoons were purple. "And you, young one, are my son."
"Haaaa?", that last thing seemed to disconcert korr. Actually, he was incredulous. Indeed, he was reborn, that was more than a fact. But it seemed that, instead of being a cannon-fodder type clone, he was actually a citizen of the empire, son of this powerful general lord named vor-aht. For a moment he wanted to sigh, but. Upon seeing the hardened gaze of this supposed father, he actually felt even more afraid. This general did not look at him the way a father looks at his son. In his eyes, he was only evaluating a lump of flesh that bore his genetic trace, nothing more.
Then he understood it, and how disconcerting it was. He was not the son of vor-aht, indeed, he was a son of the empire.
"The breeding system," continued the general. "has been completed successfully. By the fact that you could understand me properly, it means it worked according to the established parameters."
He paused, long enough for his descendant to understand and comprehend his words properly, thus avoiding the "doppelganger effect", in which newborns begin to imitate everything their progenitor does, without properly learning their capacity for self-awareness.
The last thing he wanted was to see this young one throw himself off a balcony thinking he could also fly like the adults.
"Why don't you speak? I want to know if you can understand what I am trying to tell you, newborn."
Faced with voraht's harsh words, korr tensed as much as he could and forced his throat to respond, to respond in the viltrumite dialect.
"Yes, general."
"Good.", voraht nodded. So the child was not mute, he would have to keep him. "You can speak, later we will remove your data from the list of anomalous newborns."
Korr felt a cold sweat run through his body. He did not know exactly what it was, but he knew that all of that ended in death.
For another moment of silence, voraht observed him with that look of someone seeing a tedious burden. Then, without warning, one of his giant hands extended toward him.
Korr felt the fingers wrap around his neck before he could even register that movement. The pressure on his nape was terrifyingly precise. Korr, for his part, showed no sign of resistance.
His bare feet rose from the ground, as vorath lifted him without the slightest effort. And from one moment to the next, the world began to spin, causing korr's stomach to contract with nausea.
It was then that everything stopped, when he was placed back on the ground, stumbling due to dizziness.
"Stand up!", vorath exclaimed again. Korr struggled a few times, but he managed to do it.
"Now that you are 2 orbits and four cycles of life old, you are ready for imperial training, starting with the authorized clothing." Said the general, crossing his arms. His neutral voice was directed straight toward the direction where what was needed was located.
After entering the IMPERIAL BORN RECEPTION AND ACCREDITATION CENTER, korr was pushed toward the center of a shelf made entirely of glass. And there, was an outfit that korr could recognize very easily.
Korr advanced, very cautiously, toward that garment, as if it were alive and contained rage. That imperial outfit was white, like everything else, it did not have the white toga at the waist, nor did it bear the characteristic emblem of high-ranking soldiers.
There was no doubt that it was a recruit's garment, or something similar. And therefore, it would take a long time for him to earn the symbol of this species to which he now belonged, and of which he knew little.
Then he took the outfit and dressed. Anyway, the cold was being too merciless on his body.
Unexpectedly, the outfit, which was very easy to put on, suddenly seemed to adjust to his body. The fabric brushed his skin and a sensation of warmth was felt very suddenly. It looked so immaculate that it seemed almost disconcerting, to see a white that stood out against the whiteness of the entire room.
Vorath observed him throughout the entire process, without helping him in the slightest. He waited for him to finish, with the little patience he had, he managed to remain silent until the newborn completed his first life goal. To represent the empire through the garment.
As soon as he had finished, voraht moved again once more. In just a fraction, korr felt his neck being taken again, while his father, this being who did not seem interested in kinship and filial matters, seemed to levitate again.
Both crossed the arch with the inscription that spoke about the empire and a thousand praises, as well as the purity of strength or something similar. And without further ado, they flew to the skies, and left the entire breeding plantation behind.
Korr never saw the outside. He had only woken up in a capsule, so there was no way to do any exploration. During his imprisonment, his mind had been impregnated with images, but seeing through his own eyes was undoubtedly something else.
Beneath their heads, father and son, stretched a surprising landscape.
And everything was white, once again.
The buildings seemed to rise towards the same blue sky, like abyssal columns that seemed to want to pierce the firmament. The architecture presented perfect angles.
The city that his eyes saw was undoubtedly a brutal vision. That is, architecture similar to brutalism. The concrete of the buildings looked like monoliths, imposing geometries with clean lines.
They were massive blocks of metal and white stone suspended over orbital rings. With square ships, like futuristic flying tractors, levitating above the clouds.
The viltrumites flew everywhere, without even looking in the direction of the two. The whole vision seemed unreal.
Then, after a detour, they landed on a metallic gray building, which presented a gigantic hole. It lacked doors, and the windows seemed to be made of translucent energy.
After landing, voraht had placed him to one side. The giant shadow of his apparent father loomed over his body, so the newborn could only do the only thing he knew kept him alive.
He displayed a military posture.
"The breeding system has taught you the basics," said vorath, before frowning. "Now it is time to begin your true education as the empire demands, according to the adherents of the great argal."
Korr could only nod, not daring to even ask about it. However, something he was clear about was that he had to escape.
At all costs.