Chapter 91 40:
"this is… ridiculous, complete ridiculous nonsense!" the tall one snapped.
"calm down," his companion told him, taking a step forward and placing his hand on his shoulder. "let's assume the changes are necessary… what exactly happened?"
"We are at risk of exposure because of the recent events." She said, adding, "There will be a routine inspection of the lunar settlements; the decision has already been authorized." Vexa explained without taking her eyes off the journal.
"oh...", the taller one managed to say, reaching an understanding. "that... could be a small inconvenience."
"You can say that again," Vexa said, while ignoring the taller one's approach until he looked at the journal.
"it is... surprising that you are still absorbed by the ramblings of a native." He said, raising an eyebrow, accompanied by a barely perceptible expression of disdain on his face. "What could a native possibly write that deserves to be read with such attention?"
Vexa smiled as she set the journal aside.
"Natives, generally, tend to write what they are taught to write. But... this one has unexpectedly been very unusual compared to his peers."
Vexa observed them for a moment, evaluating their reactions. She then decided to show them a little of her fascination.
"Perhaps you should read it yourselves." She said, extending the journal toward them. "It may surprise you."
The thinner one accepted the offer with a gesture that did not betray his interest, taking the journal. He opened the notebook to a random page and began to read in silence. Several seconds passed, during which his expression remained impassive, until finally, his eyes opened slightly.
"This...", he began to say, but stopped, reading a few more lines before continuing. "Ironically, the Viltrumite Empire, which was founded by a scientist and soldier who valued innovation and critical thought, was consolidated through a dogma that proscribed exactly those qualities as a product of his own experiences... This... this is not the work of an ordinary native. Vexa, are you sure that this native you have been talking about so much is responsible for writing... all of this?"
"surprised? Why do you say that?" Vexa asked.
"The way it is written, though somewhat crude and informal... the analysis of... this... all of this... is far too profound for someone who has barely completed half an orbit of life. Isn't this native supposed to be repeating the same contemptible 'yellowist' propaganda? This native, he is thinking for himself."
The taller one stepped closer, looking over his companion's shoulder. He frowned as he read, his expression of disdain slowly transforming into surprise.
"he even has the audacity to elaborate on the castes themselves. And what exactly is 'ontological' supposed to mean?"
"it refers to the essential nature or fundamental existence of something. It is not about how something works nor about how something is known; rather, about what that thing is in its deepest essence."
"that is... Seins-kern?"
"right?!", Vexa exclaimed in astonishment. "I thought so too, I told him, but he did not know how to express the meaning with that specific word, so he had to 'invent' it himself."
"impressive," the taller one nodded, absorbed.
"Who is this native?" The third one asked.
"His name is Korr-Add." Vexa replied, her tone now more confident, perceiving the genuine interest in her visitors' voices. "He is the son of a General, named Vorath. He is class 15, and he was the direct participant in the suppression of the Lithari rebellion. By himself, despite his age, he was capable of thwarting a planetary attack! Can you believe it?!"
"is that news true?" the third asked incredulously. He shook his head, unable to believe it. "in the name of Argall... what are they optimizing today's natives with? Since when are natives this bold? It is... as though it were a mere fairy tale."
"but... it seems he is not only good at massacring inferior beings, he is also wise." Added the taller one.
"wisdom that many do not possess in these orbits (years)." The thinner one intervened, carefully closing the journal and returning it to Vexa. "It is the first time a native has managed to surprise me. The way he breaks down imperial history, how he questions the established 'yellowist' narratives... it is something I have not seen in any other Viltrumite, not even among the oldest."
"The oldest have been lobotomized by the regime," Vexa said, with direct and straightforward words. "They have been trained not to question, not to see beyond what they are told. But this native, however... is different... he is worth making one of us."
The taller one nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the journal Vexa was holding once again.
"I must admit that... there is no doubt that this native possesses certain intellectual qualities." He said. "Now that I think about it, he reminds me of the ancient analysts, archaic, but refreshing."
"Perhaps," Vexa admitted, cutting off the conversation. "But... I fear he is also limited. His knowledge, though extensive, is contaminated by the Empire's propagandistic misinformation; my intervention was necessary from time to time to avoid misinformation. But even so, that does not change the fact that everything he knows, everything he has read, has been filtered by the Council."
The visitors nodded thoughtfully, thinking about their own events, their own history.
The Viltrumite Empire, as all its citizens knew it, had been built upon a foundation of carefully stapled lies.
The official narrative, the one taught in the Dorymathos and repeated across all channels of indoctrination, presented a cleanly linear history.
The Great Emperor Argal unified the planet, led his people to the stars, and was betrayed by the blue caste, whose members, consumed by envy and ambition, developed a weapon capable of killing a Viltrumite and used it against their emperor.
The Great Purge was presented as an atrocious event perpetrated by the blues, who, blinded by their ambition and resentment, unleashed an unprecedented wave of violence using their superior technology to claim power at any cost.
The other factions resisted as best they could while the Empire bled itself dry in a fratricidal conflict, leading to the temporary fragmentation of the empire and the near extinction of the species.
But the miraculous rise of Regent Thragg, finally, was the culmination of this dark period, the arrival of the savior who restored order and guided the Empire into a "new era of glory."
Nevertheless, that narrative was a deliberate and senseless construction if you thought about it for even a moment. Unfortunately for imperial society, thinking was not exactly something they were very good at.