[ PROLOGUE: PLANET URATH ]
[ "As what I was saying, my Lord, at the moment there are currently about 263,723 known inhabits of Urath that are openly rebelling against your rule." ]
[ "In Sector 13 and Sector 14, how would you like this to be dealth with, my Lord?" ]
[ ... ]
A splendidly dressed gentleman, in a mix of trench coat and suit type of clothes. His head held high, as he looks pompously at the people around.
This man is named Henry Zacharias the fifth, noble and fifth of his name, an official that came from a family known for producing intelligent royal officers without failure. Currently one of the well-known family in the Planet of Urath.
The people, other novels and officials seating around the spacious futuristic table could be seen snearing in disgust, or indifference each time they looked at his brown-eyes and raised eyebrows.
He continued explaining, hammering the point and savoring what time he has on the given podium, as he shows them a holographic report of what is currently happening in Sector 13 and Sector 14. 2 of the 21 Sectors known in the Empire.
Currently, a small part of the population is on a rebellion. First it was through small protest, then escalation, to now full-blown fighting back using pitchforks and makeshift weapons that they can find.
A humiliation to his family, as they are after all given the task by the late ruler— Father of the current Lord of Urath, to govern over Sector 13 and Sector 14; Sectors known for their cloths, and important fabrics.
He continued speaking, but paused when he heard snoring in mid speech of his, which is a clearly blatant disrespect to his position, as heir and future patriach of the Zacharias Family; [ "Who is that, who dar-!" ]
But he paused when his eyes landed on the slightly elevated chair, compared to the others this position holds power. As this is after all the seat, and is currently being sat at by the heir, and about to be crowned Emperor of Planet Urath.
He is heir Maceo Maxwell, first of his name, first and last son of the late Emperor. Last living member of the Maxwell Family.
[ "My Lord...?" ]
The ruling family of the Planet Urath for hundreds of years. The Family of Maxwell is known for their black-hair, and green-eyes, which the current heir, current acting Lord, and soon-to-be Emperor is known for.
The usual calmness and sharp mind that this said individual has could be seen stripped away, as he at the moment is being pampered by a Courtesan dressed in fine linen, as he sleeps seemingly without care about the half an hour long report.
When he slept? Most of the hundreds or so-individuals in the room doesn't know, but to those who did, they shut their mouth hoping that he wouldn't be found out.
But who would have thought, that the Prince known for his debauchery, foul mood, and disregard for respect, didn't seem to care, as he openly sleeps in the middle of an Quarterly Meeting.
Worse of it all, brought a Courtesan in it, sitting on the floor besides his chair. This is especially scandalous, as the said Prince currently has a fiancé that he would wed after the coronation starts...
This is scandal to highest degree! A scandal that some, if not all of the officials seemingly turns a blind eye on. For the safety, and loyalty of theirs to the Maxwell Family and history.
The officials inside the room looked at one another, even Henry the one reporting about the crisis on his ruling Sector doesn't know what to do.
As they ask one another without speaking, on what should they do? The Courtesan also, under the weird stare of the hundreds or-so High Ranking Officials, couldn't help but shriek in fear...
You may not understand, but a lady like her that only risen to this position due to her good looks, and luck, and especially luck; as today, she was randomly called and sought out by the young prince. For reason? She doesn't know.
In being in the line of sight of scholars, war experienced generals, and skilled tactical minds. She couldn't help but shriek behind the chair of the sleeping Prince. Hoping that he may wake up sooner than later.
Though she knows that the men and... women? here can't touch her, especially because she was brought here today by the Prince. But she still worries, as her shy demeanor kicks in.
[ "M-my Lord?" ]
The right-hand of the Family, the acting Lord Regent that seemingly looks tired. As the heavy eyebags under his eyes are to seen by any and everyone. The stack of papers in front of him forming a mountain, a tablet nearby, as he then spoke up.
Seemingly calling out for the Lord. The Lord of which that has his heart stop beating a few seconds after the snore, before then pumping again as something else takeover the vessel... A foreign soul that shakes in hearing the word Lord, and not the common ringing of his alarm on his phone.
[ "..." ] Fluttering his eye lids slightly, he could feel the cold air hit his skin. Fine cloth over him also. As then finally he realized something weird, as someone seemingly calls out for his name— a weird name that only he in his neighbourhood, or likely even his city has. That would be Maceo.
[ "Prince Maceo..." ] His Father wanted a name similar to Bruce Banner, or even Wade Watts from the recent book he read— recently made into a movie.
So he— his Father named his child, his first-born child as Maceo. So his name could sound like a superhero or some sort. It being done underhanded, as his Father told his Mother that;
"In accordance with your wishes, I have named our son. Harrison Maxwell, in remembrance to your late uncle that has died." That was a total lie, no stuttering, no shame, no-nothing as his Father lies to his Mother who just woke up after giving birth.
And at the moment, that weird name he hated since birth, is being uttered by a certain someone he doesn't know, in a deep husky voice, veteran and old, accompanied by... The word, "Prince"? Why so? Curious, he forced his bloodshot eyes open.
Wanting to turn to his side to look at where the voice came from, his eyes, it immediately adjusted to the room that he is in. As it felt like thousands or-so pair of eyeballs in different colors, stares at him. Seemingly waiting...
Not knowing what to do, feeling lucid and dumb, he then forced himself to stare to his left, at where the voice that called out to him is; before then saying out loud in his weak voice the following; [ "Who...?" ]
Like an Owl. He asked. But to his surprise, his voice sounds like groggy, tired, and even unfamiliar to his original voice. Not knowing why this was, the just awaken Maceo was about to ask again, but to his surprise; he just realized the many eyeballs staring at him, all seemingly curious.
What am I? Where am I? Who are these old-men? Seeing their bewildered gaze, he then countered this with his bewildered gaze.
As he then stared back at them all, one-by-one scanning them, their features, their uniqueness and even similarities, as they all straighten up their posture in him doing so.
Which is weird and unfamiliar to Maceo, as he doesn't know any of these individuals at all. Or why he even was here in the first place... Am I dreaming?
As he scans his surroundings, he tried answering that question by pinching his hand, not feeling it at all as the coldness sip into his skin. But what he does realize is the fact that a woman, a beautiful one, exotic beauty reality, is shivering sitting on his right, on the floor.
Dressed in fine clothes, her make-up done, her lipstick, her mascara, her everything as decorations adore her. Enhancing her already natural beauty into something else... Something else, [ "My Lord, are you alright?" ]
His mouth that was about to say beautiful instinctively, then paused, as he heard the same voice that was calling to him earlier. Making his head turn stiffly to the left.
At the bearded man, looking akin to that of a bear stare at him; old, sure, but also weirdly jacked under his uniform clothes. Not like an old-man as what his greying hair is saying to people.
He wants to ask if this was a dream, or how can he speak if this was a dream, or even see his body if this was that... Or perhaps reality... Which sounds more absurd than this encounter being a dream.
But ultimately he let his mouth continue, without his brain double thinking about it. As he wants to find out his situation at the moment, dream or not dream. He wants to know; [ "I'm... I'm a Lord?" ] is he really?
[ "Yes... young Prince, y-you are..." ] The man, a short statured man besides the old-man spoke up. The said individual that spoke up looking like an dwarf, which is...
H-how is he dreaming in such a detailed manner? Shouldn't it be fragmented? Quickly realizing the situation he is in, he then widens his eyes... As he understands.
[ "Fuck, this is not a dream at all." ]
He whispers those words to himself, venom in the unfamiliar voice that now belongs to him, and is stuck to him. As he now completely understands the fact, his soul left his body, and he now is inside someone else's... Apparently a Prince of some role-playing pretty futuristic world.
Placing a hand on his forehead, Maceo felt a headache sipping through as he balances his elbow on the stone chair he is sitting on. Comfortable one at that, pretty cold, pretty fun. As he internally screams.
He peeked out, his one eye staring at the men around the room. All seemingly decorated with medals, varying clothes, stances and apperances. But they all do share something in common, that is, all of them seems to be professional and high rank... Which seems to be, shit.
Not wanting to talk to them, even though he is high ranking— a Prince, and is seemingly higher than them in the surface. He doesn't want to test that out, especially because he doesn't know anything in this new body, or world that he finds himself in.
He read plenty of stories, most if not all relating to a soul transferring to another world or into another body. He wrote some, so at the very least he knows how to handle himself in this type of tropes.
He stared at the men on the room, wanting to see which one is the weakest... But realizing that no, none of them seems to be weak even the draft-like individual looks jacked. So he stared at the guards holding spears near a gigantic door, then at the other guards.
All of them straightened themselves up when he looked. A power this body seemingly has over them. He is a Prince after all, or, well, he is a Prince as he now inhabits this said body.
Seeing that they are very far-away. Maceo decided to not ask to them, especially because it would seem awkward to ask something that he could ask someone close by. As for example, one of the old-men or old-women hat seems to be an adviser type.
So he stared at the only individual in this room that is seemingly the lowest. At the very beautiful woman sitting right beside him, on the floor, seemingly shivering from the cold.
Her clothes seemingly doing nothing to cover the cold which the aircon in this circular council-like room has. Can't blame her, it is pretty cold. About to fix that, he then thought of ways how to ask her, on what exactly is going on
As she is after all seems to be the lowest in this room, no aparent power, only someone there... A decoration perhaps? Why would she even be there? Why doesn't she have a chair to st on? Is the floor really that comfortable compared to a chair? [ "You..." ]
He has plenty of questions in mind, but wants to play it safe and would only ask when it felt natural, or when he has the time. At the moment, one such opportunity came, and that is for his mind to be refresh on what the fuck is exactly going on.
[ "Refresh my mind, dear... on what is going on." ] Playing the role, he places a hand under his chin, staring down at her, words slow, calculating it as seconds goes by, on which is most effective, and which would give the desired effect. [ "I want to know... Everything." ]
[ ——— ] [ ——— ] [ ——— ] [ ——— ]
[ 05/21/2025 ]
[ 05/22/2025 ]