Aldoux opened his eyes while immersed in a gentle wetness. What he saw were his legs hanging over the side of a bathtub filled with bubbles. As he lay in the tub with his arms resting on the edges, his naked body shimmered, cleansed of all dirt. The sensation left by the foam and warm water on his body left a taste in his mouth like a piece of heaven… If he were ever to return from death again, he would keep a hot bath in mind. For it was an experience worth returning from death for…
While the scent of lavender surrounded him and the light bulb on the ceiling glowed in the dim yellow of candlelight, he leaned his head back and sank into thought. He examined his hands and arms as he lifted them from beneath the bubbles. Every one of the wounds he had received while fighting the robots of TESO2 had healed.
This was what it meant to be made of flesh and bone. Fatigue was constantly trying to envelop him. A body of flesh required constant maintenance. If a body was made of flesh, it pushed the limits of a human. Weisshafen, who could not become a cybernetic due to his family's rules, was experiencing all the hardships of being made of flesh.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a bottle of whiskey and a Corona-sized cigar left on the table next to the tub. The dark, oily leaf of the cigar shimmered like gold under the yellow light, highlighting its quality.
Instead of pouring the bottle into a glass, he took it directly in his hand. The moment he crushed the head of the cigar with his finger, the chemical at its tip ignited, and the cigar began to burn. He took a large gulp of whiskey… He felt how the heat flowing down his throat was filtered by the implants in his body. He had an immunity to heavy alcohols, so if he wanted to get drunk, he had to drink light alcohols continuously. But still, that warmth passing through his throat, combined with the warmth of the tub, gave him a small sense of peace.
When he took his first puff of the cigar, a velvety, full-bodied smoke filled his mouth. Notes of cocoa powder and burnt sugar appeared on his tongue immediately, followed by a slight pepperiness and a woody undertone. As it should be in a quality cigar, none of them overpowered the others; they were in harmony like a symphony.
When he slowly exhaled the smoke through his nostrils, the aroma became even richer: chocolate meeting a deep earthy scent. This complex bouquet, combined with the steamy heat of the tub and the afterglow of the whiskey, reminded him of one of the moments that belonged to him—a rare moment of peace. Perhaps it reminded him of those romantic moments he had lived with Isolde on the roof of the Weisshafen palace. While the wind sought a path over their naked bodies, their eyes looking at each other through tears…
As someone mourning his dead love in this immortal galaxy, Aldoux was always sorrowful. He always thought that this misfortune could only have happened to him… Then he continued to experience similar misfortunes. He constantly lost people and constantly blamed his fate and his lineage. He blamed being a Weisshafen…
He looked at his hands. It was said that in palmistry, hands could show the future. Aldoux searched for a meaning in the depths of his palm.
He was still a Weisshafen. His genetics, the implants inside him, and even his memories said so. But he could not be a Weisshafen. Some in his family wanted him dead. Even if he wasn't killed, he would be a prisoner. But most importantly, the moment he was a Weisshafen, he could not be free.
He took another sip of his whiskey. The cigar swirled in his mouth once more with its aromas. As someone who had lost everything, he felt quite free. But most importantly, he had been able to distance himself from Aldoux Weisshafen.
As someone who always thought he didn't fear his family's pressure and didn't accept his family's legacy, he only realized what a burden his family had left on him when he changed his identity. Many nicknames had been given to him, such as Failed Aldoux, Unskilled Aldoux, Useless Aldoux, and the Disgrace of the Family Aldoux. These labels had seeped into his very skin; he was only realizing this now.
Those indifferent attitudes, that old life dedicated to alcohol and sex; each was the behavior of a spoiled noble who had accepted these labels. The fact that someone who lost a loved one didn't want to stand more strongly on their feet showed how effective the psychological violence of his family had been on him.
When Aldoux died and was born in this new body, opening his eyes to life as a completely different person, it was as if everything had changed. Because he wasn't a spoiled noble, he had to struggle. If he wanted to maintain his life, he couldn't cling to someone's neck and cry. Because he was no longer recognized as a Weisshafen, doors would no longer open for him.
Aldoux always thought being a member of the Weisshafen family was useless because he was a Weisshafen whose nobility had been stripped. Thinking about this thought now, he chuckled softly inside the bathtub.
This was the whimpering of a spoiled noble brat. So, being a Weisshafen was useless and a terrible thing, was it? Right now, he could still be the most important man on this damn planet if he were still a Weisshafen. Maybe he could end this damn war, convince the SWR to join the war, and do many more things. The Weisshafen surname was that powerful. But whiny, tearful Aldoux hadn't realized the power of this surname until he lost it.
It was good that he had lost it. Because… because only then did he realize how strong those hands were when he looked at his own. Just as a man feels the strength of his legs when he gets rid of the wheels under his feet, he was realizing his own power.
If he had realized this power before, while he was still a Weisshafen, could he have saved Isolde? Could he have saved his sister Inze? Could he have saved Velsil? Indifferent, spoiled, useless attitudes… Those attitudes had taken everything he wanted from him.
If a person was indifferent, the galaxy was indifferent to them too. If a man was spoiled, the galaxy did everything in its power to spoil him. But while the galaxy gave these two, it was eager to take everything else back.
He took another puff of his Weisshafen cigar. What would happen if the man who opened his eyes wasn't himself but the old Aldoux?
"He would say 'Step aside, I am a Weisshafen' and immediately seek refuge with the SWR. Then he would beg a few people from his family and ask them to bring the end of this planet," Aldoux thought. "Then this boy would complain about being a Weisshafen. That boy had no choice but to be a Weisshafen! Because the damn boy was an unskilled man who believed in the labels thrown upon him by his family!"
These inner thoughts made him so angry that he finished the whiskey with great fervor and slammed the bottle onto the table. "Everything is different now..." Aldoux whispered. "...now I am whoever I want to be!"
Aldoux stood up in the tub and turned off the faucet before getting out. The room he was in looked like a modern guest room. A few bookshelves leaning against the walls, a few cozy chairs and a small table; a small television and a large bed… A room just like a hotel room.
After getting out of the tub, he wrapped a towel around his waist. As he stepped out, the drying machines hanging from the ceiling rotated around him and dried his entire body. Aldoux had to grip the towel around his waist tightly so it wouldn't fly away. With his body completely dry, he ran toward the kitchen. Hunger was gnawing at his insides. He opened the massive double doors of the refrigerator and took out canned food. He didn't even bother to heat them up. He started stuffing the canned peas, which he opened with a can opener, into his mouth with his hands. He didn't really need to chew before swallowing because his implanted stomach could easily digest most things.
After popping open and eating four cans in a row, he looked at one of the cans and read the brand. "Gezmarkt." He hadn't heard much of this brand, but looking at it, he said:
"This damn thing is quite delicious too." Whereas Aldoux Weisshafen wouldn't have said this. He might not have even deigned to eat a cold can of food.
He went to the refrigerator and tilted the cold milk back. He was drinking the cold milk so greedily that it flowed from the corners of his mouth, running down his naked body. He wiped the corner of his mouth and burped. "Now that's what I call a meal!" he shouted.
He went to the bathroom to wash his hand stained with canned food and his body covered in milk. The water in the tub must have been automatically drained, as there was no longer any water in it. So he washed his hands, face, and body in the sink. Then, while drying himself with a towel, he came face to face with himself in the mirror.
He had found the opportunity to examine himself for the first time. His eyebrows, his eyes, and many other things had come from the hands of the woman named Sevda. Doctor Sevda seemed to have done a good job. Aldoux's face looked as reassuring as it did dangerous. It was as provocative as it was barbaric. It was as indifferent as it was fierce, and more importantly, it was strong. It was a face that could frighten the people of the new age as much as it was a face that could lead the people of the old age.
While explaining his plan to Hianyan, he wasn't sure if that plan would be accepted; he wasn't sure if the plan would work. But when he looked at this man's face, he noticed something that Aldoux's own face didn't possess. In this man's face, there was self-assurance. In this man's face, there was courage. In this man's face, there was sharpness, but most importantly, in this man's face, there was realism. Perhaps Aldoux was attributing such meaning to this man's face because he was starting a new life.
His eyebrows were thick, his face slightly pointed… Aldoux's beard used to grow sparsely, but this man's beard was already starting to thicken. His black short hair was lush and had already started to tangle. If this hair and beard grew a bit more, they would surely need combing. Now, as they were still quite short, it was appropriate to leave them messy.
His body was more muscular, his shoulders broader, and perhaps even his height was a few centimeters taller. To whatever extent his body had come to the brink of vanishing, Doctor Sevda had been able to make all these changes. His survival was nothing but a Weisshafen miracle.
Aldoux put on a shirt. He pulled on a pair of pants. He threw a light leather jacket over himself. Cold didn't bother him as much as weight. His Enhanced body protected him from most things. He found a backpack and started filling it with the cans that tasted delicious to him. After putting in ten cans and a bottle of milk, he went back and put in 5 more cans. Then he closed the bag. He was just preparing to leave the door when the doorbell rang.
"Are you available?" a woman's voice said.
"Sort of," Aldoux said.
At that moment, a woman walked slowly through the door and looked inside from the end of the hallway hesitantly:
"Hello..." she said.
While Aldoux was busy organizing the bag, he turned his head and looked at the woman. This woman was the woman next to Calmo. The woman in the red dress.
"The woman in the red dress..."
"My name is Tita... I took off the red dress. Bolver wanted me to wear it, and I finally got rid of that clothing," the woman said. She had fluffy light brown hair. She was wearing a t-shirt and brown pants underneath. Her expensive and spoiled appearance from before had now given way to a sincere Calosian look.
"I'm happy for you," Aldoux said.
"I came here to thank you," the girl said shyly.
"I'm surprised you came here. I didn't know Calosians could wander around so freely."
"Well... Hianyan is talking about an approaching war. So, to get the Calosians on his side in the war, he ventured to give them quite a few concessions. From what I understand, you were the one who told him to get the power of the Calosians behind him. And so... you liberated us."
"More accurately, I got you into a war," Aldoux said. He didn't miss putting a few bags of dried meat into the bag. There was a pack of cigars on the nightstand. He took the pack and threw it into the bag. He was careful not to let the box be crushed by the cans. These cigars were cigarillos, thinner than a woman's finger.
"You also saved Calmo. I love him like a brother. Thank you again..."
"He went north, to a town..."
"So he's in a place away from the war now, huh... They say the north is dangerous, but after the war starts, I certainly don't think it could be more dangerous than here. Thank you again for saving Calmo."
"No need for thanks, Tita."
The girl suddenly fell to her knees. The sound of her knees hitting the floor startled Aldoux.
"No, sir! I... I am truly grateful to you, sir! Bolver had his eye on me; if you hadn't killed him, I would have been tortured and killed by that damn man. If it weren't for you, I would be struggling with painful memories even in the afterworld! That is why I kneel before you! God bless you, sir!"
Aldoux threw his bag over his back and walked toward the girl. While the girl wondered what the man would do, Aldoux passed by her. As he walked toward the door: "If you are grateful to me, don't ever kneel before anyone again..." he said.
"Yes, sir, may I know your name?" Tita asked, standing up.
Yes... perhaps that moment had come. The moment that required him to find a name for this new body. Before reaching for the door, he turned back. What kind of name should he have? What human had ever reached the grace of choosing a name for themselves... Yes, there were people who changed their names later, but there had never been a human who could give themselves a name as soon as they were born, and Aldoux was a newborn human.
He scanned the shelves filled with books. While the book titles passed before his eyes one after another, a book of poetry caught his eye. A book of poetry titled "The Dead Galaxy." The author of the book was simply Kingsley. "The Dead Galaxy... Indeed, the current galaxy is not much more than a dead galaxy..." he thought.
"My name is Edmond Kingsley," he said.
"Kingsley? A surname like the Poet of the Dead Galaxy... It is a pleasure to meet you, dear Kingsley."
"Pleasure is mine, Tita."
After the name spilled from his lips, Aldoux felt the vibration it left in the air. Edmond Kingsley… It was hard but not sharp; heavy but not suffocating. It looked as if it had emerged from the ashes of an old world and belonged to a new life. When spoken, it closed one door and quietly opened another. It didn't carry the shadow of Weisshafen, but it wasn't completely detached from it either; just like himself.
This name didn't possess the imperiousness of a noble, but it held enough weight for a man to carry on his shoulders. Too meaningful for a fugitive's name, too simple for a hero's name… It stood right in the middle of everything. Edmond reminded him of being human; Kingsley, with its noble sound, was the undeniable echo of his past.
A strange peace emerged within him. It was as if this name was a line written for him but unread until now. It sounded in his ears like a living man in the middle of a dead galaxy. Unlike Aldoux, Edmond Kingsley didn't have to run; he could walk. And perhaps for the first time, every step he took would truly belong to him.