The sun had barely risen over the Takagi estate, casting a pale light on the smoldering ruins of the city. The streets were quiet, disturbed only by the metallic footsteps of patrolling droids. Spider-droids and servo-skulls continued collecting parts from the destroyed units.
Near the manor, the silence was oppressive, broken only by the mechanical chants of the droids who patrolled the gardens at regular intervals, watching over the estate with cold vigilance. The corpses had been burned, the walls reinforced, the supplies rechecked. Dawn brought no peace—only the aftermath of the carnage.
Seated at the end of the long table in the honor hall, Aurélien observed the frozen expressions of Soichiro and Yuriko Takagi. The patriarch, still upright despite the visible fatigue on his features, wore his sword at his waist, as if clinging to a symbol of authority. Yuriko maintained that sharp calm, a nobility that might have suited an empress in another world. They were not merely survivors. They were the remnants of a fallen order.
Aurélien broke the silence first, his voice steady, clear. "Your troops fought well. Their discipline slowed the collapse of our left flank. They deserve recognition."
Soichiro nodded without looking away. "And your droids held the line despite the losses. Without them, the horde would have overrun our home. You are young, Aurélien. And yet... what you build, what you command... defies comprehension," Soichiro said slowly.
Aurélien merely nodded, then turned his gaze to the old clan leader. He studied him for a long time. Not as a rival, but like a tactician examining the foundations of a fortress, judging their strength.
"We survived," he finally said. "But survival is not victory. This world won't return to what it was. We must rebuild. Differently. And for that, clear authority is necessary. A stable, centralized hierarchy capable of deploying its forces without bureaucratic delay."
Yuriko tilted her head, smoothing her hair with a finger. "You want total command of this territory's military forces!"
"Not 'I want', Mrs. Takagi. It is necessary. Your troops are brave, but your communications are slow, your chains of command still divided between family loyalty, personal interests, and traditions. This model is obsolete," the young man replied.
Soichiro didn't answer immediately. He closed his eyes briefly, breathing deeply. When he opened them again, he wasn't a politician speaking—just a man who wanted a future for his family. "Your army is the beating heart of our security. So it is time to clarify the terms of our future. But you are asking for total trust. And if I give it to you... what remains of our authority, for Yuriko and me?"
Soichiro didn't want to lose his power, but he had seen firsthand the strength of the young man before him. In just a week, he had built a force capable of repelling more than a thousand undead. What would he achieve in a month? Or a year?
The Takagi leader had lived many years in the political world. He knew when the wind was shifting—and he accepted it. All he wanted were guarantees.
"You will have a place in the future," Aurélien replied bluntly. "I do not seek to erase you. You represent the old Japan, yes—but also its stability, its roots. The people need figures who embody order. My authority will be primarily military and judicial. You will remain the governors of this territory, and more. With a title. With dignity. And above all, with a duty."
He drew from his coat a small black notebook with metal-reinforced corners. He opened it on the table, revealing pages written in dense, methodical handwriting.
"I propose the foundation of a pact. A renewed aristocracy. Not based on blood, but on merit. Each ruling lineage will be evaluated every ten years. If it fails, it will be removed. If it succeeds, it retains its prerogatives. Loyalty, efficiency, and protection of the people will be the three criteria. Those who perform meritorious acts will be eligible for aristocratic titles. I will also accept nobles into the army, but their heirs must renounce their family names—they may found their own house upon retirement."
"An aristocracy?" asked Soichiro, his brows furrowed.
Aurélien nodded. "A neo-aristocracy, yes. Not based on blood, but on service. On the ability to protect, to lead, to pass on knowledge. The people need enduring figures, symbols of stability. Of hierarchy. The world deteriorated not because its laws were bad, but because they were undefended. Without structure, even democracy rots. I am willing to recognize lineages—but only if they serve the future, not the past."
Yuriko raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A meritocracy... with a noble façade."
Aurélien smiled. "Exactly."
Yuriko crossed her arms, her gaze hardening. "And who will watch over this aristocracy? An emperor? Do you see yourself as one?"
A faint smile touched the young man's lips. "The title doesn't matter. Titles don't govern. Power and vision do. I am the one with the army. The one who will build the production lines. The one who answers the catastrophe and offers a stable solution. If that role compels you to call me 'Emperor', I won't object. But that is not what matters to me. What matters is that you accept."
He closed the notebook and slid it toward Soichiro. Silence thickened.
Then Aurélien locked eyes with the former politician. "One question, Soichiro. And I want a clear answer."
The former leader of Japan's far-right nationalist party nodded slowly, sensing that this moment would either seal their alliance or end it.
"If you learned tomorrow that the Japanese government had survived—even diminished, even weakened—would you still remain loyal to me? Knowing you had ties to the Imperial Restoration Party?"
Soichiro didn't respond right away. He straightened slowly, as if to remind them who he had once been. His features tensed, his right hand resting on his sword. Then he replied, in a deep, calm voice. "That government, if it still exists, has failed. It didn't prevent the collapse. It didn't protect its citizens, nor my family. If I once supported it, it was because I believed in the restoration of a strong, rooted, orderly Japan. What you propose... is a different but functional version of that vision. So yes, Aurélien Yamamoto. My loyalty will go to the one who builds, not to those who fled."
Yuriko added, "As long as you protect our people, our land, and our name, we will support you. But know this: if we see that you are not fulfilling your promises... we will be the first to challenge you."
Aurélien stood, extending his hand to Soichiro. "That's all I ask."
The man of honor stood as well, grasping the hand of the young strategist. It wasn't a handshake between friends. It was the seal of a pact, an alliance between Order and Progress. The Old World and the New.
As the sun slowly rose above the horizon, a new order was born. In a ravaged world where old laws had lost all meaning, the Emperor of Machines and the Aristocrats sealed their alliance.
Years later, this day would be remembered as the Pact of Dominium—a foundational event that ensured the coexistence of imperial power and the aristocratic families.
Evening.
The sun was still low, tinting the reinforced gates of the Takagi estate with copper hues, when Takashi Komuro pushed open the door to the common room. His stride was resolute, but his gaze heavy.Beside him, Rei Miyamoto stood tall and silent, casting wary glances at the B1 droid guards posted at regular intervals throughout the corridors. Their mere presence—harmless to some—stirred a dull tension in her.
Kohta Hirano joined them, his shoulder bag stuffed to the brim. He no longer wore his old glasses—he now had a tactical pair, a gift from Aurélien, though he wore them awkwardly.
"Are you sure about this?" asked Saya, arms crossed, leaning against a pillar.
Takashi froze. The tone wasn't accusatory, but he could hear the blend of sadness and frustration behind it.
"Yes. I have to find my mother. She might still be alive. And I can't stay here, Saya. Not like this."
She stared at him, then sighed. Rei spoke up."We're not abandoning anyone. But... we need to know what's happening out there. We've seen the city change, but we don't want to stay passive, confined here. Not while our parents are still out there."
"You're not confined," Saya replied. "You're safe. And there's so much to do here. This isn't over, Rei—it's only the beginning."
"That's exactly what worries me," Takashi answered, his gaze drifting to a group of five B1 droids following a tactical unit. "Things are changing too fast. Too well organized. Too quiet. Too rigid. It's not normal."
Saya flinched slightly and looked away."You're talking about Aurélien?"
Takashi nodded.
"I don't have anything against him. He saved us—multiple times. But now... he's everywhere. He commands the droids, he talks to the engineers like a priest, he's got plans for a new aristocracy? Seriously? And isn't it weird that your father handed him the military command? Just like that?"
Saya pressed her lips together."My father did it to protect our territory. To secure our future. Not out of weakness. And besides, Aurélien has proven that—"
"Yes, he's brilliant. Yes, he's strong. But since when is it a good idea to hand all military power to one man? You know what I think? I think your father has always dreamed of this. He's always been drawn to power. Him and his pre-war Japan ideals..."
"Takashi!" Rei interrupted. "This isn't the time for that kind of accusation."
Saya stepped back, wounded."If you want to leave, then leave. But don't tarnish what we're trying to build here."
Kohta, who had remained silent until then, spoke up."I get what Takashi means. I'm impressed by Aurélien too, and I consider him a friend... but sometimes, it's scary. He thinks too far ahead. And I'm a shooter, not a technocrat. I also want to see if my family is still alive. Maybe help those we left behind."
An awkward silence fell over the room. Then Saya slowly stepped closer to Takashi.
"Then... goodbye."
"Saya... come with us. You don't have anything to prove here," said her childhood friend.
But before she could answer, Yuriko Takagi entered, followed by two guards. She had heard the final words. Her gaze was calm, but firm.
"My daughter will not be leaving," she said simply. "We need her here."
"That's not your decision to make," Takashi replied.
"It is—for now. She's still a minor. And more importantly, she's a Takagi. This world is changing, and we need those who can think, organize, and lead. Saya will be trained to govern, as part of the new order Aurélien and we are establishing."
Saya lowered her gaze, torn between rebellion and responsibility.
"Good luck," she whispered at last.
Takashi clenched his jaw but said nothing more. He gave Saya one last look, then turned to the horizon.
"If I find that this world is slipping into tyranny under the boot of an empire, I'll come back. And I'll stop it."
He left without waiting for a reply. Rei followed him. Kohta lingered a moment to wave goodbye, then trailed after them.
Later that night,
On the silent terrace overlooking the inner courtyard, Saeko Busujima stepped up behind Aurélien.
He stood alone, hands clasped behind his back, watching the floodlights sweep over the walls of the bastion, the silhouettes of patrolling droids moving methodically. Some drones had already begun the work of fortifying the territory.
"They left," she said softly.
He nodded. "It was inevitable. Takashi doesn't belong in a structured order. He distrusts power he doesn't control."
"You let him go without saying a word?" she asked.
"He wasn't ready to hear what I have to offer. He still wants to believe in the world that was. In the old illusion of returning to normalcy."
She stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm."And if he comes back... with hostile intentions?"
Aurélien turned slightly, eyes meeting hers."Then he'll learn what it means to challenge me. But I don't wish for that. I'd rather he find another path. He has courage, but he still refuses to accept that this world has changed in nature."
"And you... you rise above the world. Not out of cruelty, but out of necessity," Saeko murmured.
He gave a faint smile."It's not the machine that is divine, Saeko. It's the intelligence that designs it. And it's not ancient power we should idolize, but the relentless quest for understanding. That's the heart of my dream."
She nestled against him, kissing him softly on the cheek."I'll help you build it. Even if it makes me an enemy in the eyes of our old friends."
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders."The old world is dead. Those who don't see it are already ghosts. We are alive, Saeko. And we will forge what comes next."
In the distance, Aurélien's factory continued to grow, forging more and more tools for the future wars of its creator. An era was ending. Another was beginning—one of steel, blood, and ideals.
Author's Note: Why Divide Power?
The emergence of factions is inevitable, even under an ultra-centralized regime. The key to stability lies not in their total suppression, but in their oversight, regulation, and integration within a controlled system.