Twenty thousand meters above the clouds of Forge World No. 7.
Here, there was no yellow acid rain, no pungent scent of sulfur—only temperature-controlled air, triple-filtered and carrying the faint fragrance of lavender.
A streamlined luxury shuttle descended slowly onto the private landing pad of the Helios Spire. The hatch hissed open, and Jesia stepped out.
Two servo-servants, waiting by the side, immediately hurried forward, holding pristine white heated towels and golden trays. Jesia didn't take a towel. Standing on the spotless white marble floor, her face was twisted in a mask of pure loathing.
That loathing wasn't directed at anyone in particular, but at the priceless silk uniform she was wearing.
Despite staying in a fully sealed command room while in the Underhive, and despite the factory having a top-tier air circulation system, she still felt filthy. That stench from the depths—a mixture of poverty, decay, and despair—felt as though it had seeped into the very fibers of her clothes, corroding her skin.
"Burn it," Jesia spat out coldly.
In front of all the servants, she stripped off her coat and tossed it onto the ground. Next came the blouse, the skirt, and even her silk undergarments. A servant immediately stepped forward with a flamer and pulled the trigger. Flames roared to life, reducing the expensive fabrics to ash in an instant.
Naked, Jesia walked into the nearby purification chamber. Twelve hovering servo-skulls circled her, spraying high-concentration disinfectant mist and fragrant essential oils.
This ritualized cleaning was a mandatory course for every Spire noble returning from an inspection of the Underhive. In their worldview, the Underhive wasn't just physically dirty; it was spiritually foul. Without a thorough cleansing, the "bad luck" of the lower classes would infect the family's fortune.
Half an hour later, Jesia, now clad in a brand-new dark red evening gown, pushed open the doors to the family banquet hall.
The room was a display of opulence, with massive crystal chandeliers casting soft light and the walls adorned with portraits of the Hel family's past patriarchs. At the far end of a long dining table sat a white-haired old man.
Sol Hel, Executive Director of the Helios Group and Jesia's uncle. At that moment, he was using silver cutlery to elegantly slice a steak. It was Grox tenderloin, fresh cargo flown in from an agricultural world hundreds of light-years away. Every bite was worth a year's income for an Underhive family.
"I heard you made quite a stir down there," Sol said without looking up, putting a piece of meat into his mouth and chewing slowly. "Three billion in assets just became a firework."
The old man's tone was flat, making it impossible to tell if he was scolding her or simply stating a financial figure.
Jesia pulled out a chair and sat at the opposite end of the long table. A waiter immediately poured her a glass of red wine from the Sacred Vineyards of Terra.
"Fireworks... that's a colorful way to put it, Uncle." Jesia gave a dry laugh, picking up her glass and swirling it gently. "That was merely a necessary cost. The factory is destroyed, but I obtained the data we needed."
She reached out and slid a black data chip across the smooth tabletop. The chip slid ten meters, stopping precisely at Sol's hand.
"Extreme pressure test data for the Ancient Black Box," Jesia said with absolute confidence. "Previously, we were afraid to push the power to maximum for fear of damaging the equipment. But this accident proved that as long as we solve the shield stability issue, the conversion efficiency of that machine can be increased by five hundred percent."
"This means that in the future, we won't need to mine ore or smelt scrap iron. Theoretically, we just dump trash in and get a continuous supply of any material we desire."
Sol put down his knife and fork. He picked up the tiny chip and examined it.
Although the Helios Group started in pharmaceuticals, at their scale, they had long since extended their reach into energy, arms, and heavy manufacturing. A technology that could completely upend the raw material supply chain was the real gold mine. By comparison, the destroyed factory was a drop in the bucket.
"And the personnel losses?" Sol asked casually. "I saw on the report that the casualty figure was... total?"
"Just outsourced laborers," Jesia said, slicing into her Grox steak as bright red juices flowed out. "People from the Ascension Mining Alliance. Those purple-skinned baldies are easy to deal with. No death benefits required; we just send their union a 'personnel attrition fee.'"
"I've already had the finance department transfer a sum under the heading of 'Raw Material Procurement.'"
A satisfied smile appeared on Sol's face. "Well done, Jesia. Any problem that can be solved with money isn't a problem. Especially cheap consumables whose lives we don't need to care about. One batch dies, you just recruit another."
In the conversation between these two Spire rulers, the loss of thousands of lives wasn't even worth as much as a bottle of wine at this dinner. After all, lives were consumables, fuel, and figures to be written off on a balance sheet. Only technology, capital, and power were eternal.
"However, there is one small loose end to handle." Jesia put down her glass, her eyes turning slightly colder.
"Oh?" Sol asked.
"A transport vehicle has gone missing." Jesia beckoned, and a personal assistant immediately handed her a data slate. "The vehicle was carrying a crystallized corpse sample salvaged before the accident, along with a physical backup of the Black Box data."
"According to the schedule, it should have arrived at Elevator No. 2 half an hour ago. But its signal vanished at the edge of the ruins thirty kilometers away."
Sol frowned. The corpse sample didn't matter, but the data backup was important. Even with the chip in Jesia's hand, a second backup was an insurance policy for such ancient technology. Furthermore, if those crystallized corpses were found by the Inquisition or other competitors, it would be troublesome. While the Helios Group was the law in this region, such illegal human experimentation was best kept out of the light.
"Have you sent people to find it?" Sol asked.
"It's already arranged." Jesia's voice became icy. "I've dispatched the 'Cleaners' squad."
The Cleaners were a group of private soldiers kept by the Hel family—well-equipped and efficient.
"They will bring the items back. As for anyone who saw them..." Jesia wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin and flashed a cold smile. "People die every day in the Underhive. No one will care if a few more scavengers turn up dead."