Atlas Eumélos :
I walked toward the door of my office.
Natali opened it for me, and as I stepped out, the guards saluted.
We made our way to the conference room, Natali at my right, with four bodyguards surrounding us.
Each footstep echoed like a metronome, perfectly synchronized.
One of the guards opened the door to let us in without my having to make the slightest effort.
Everything seemed as precise as clockwork.
I had to maintain this presidential image — a symbol of authority and composure.
Yet at times, it felt unbearably heavy.
I often felt like a five-year-old child unable to tie his own shoes, constantly assisted by those around me.
It irritated me to no end.
Behind this façade of a privileged man from high society, I was nothing but a wolf in sheep's clothing, blending into a flock whose sterile discussions on matters they had never truly lived through disgusted me.
Their schemes, their manipulation of society, sickened me.
That is why I did everything I could to become president — so that no more of those sheep would rule this country I love without ever taking responsibility for it.
And now here I was again, about to speak with them, but this time, I would do everything I could to protect my nation.
I sat down before the camera to prepare for the conference, which would begin in less than two minutes.
Natali stood behind me — upright, steady — a few brown strands falling across her shoulder, dressed in her bodyguard uniform.
I wanted her to stay for at least the beginning of the debate so she could gain as much political experience as possible.
It wasn't her first conference by my side, and on several occasions she had already given me valuable advice.
Later, if she ever chose a political path, I was certain she would become a remarkable woman, able to face any obstacle.
The meeting began.
The three giant screens in the room displayed the faces of numerous political leaders connected by video conference.
It wasn't unusual to hold such sessions, but this time the number of participants was exceptional.
Among the countries present were representatives of the European Assembly, the Asian Union, America, and Russia.
All the great powers were gathered — an extraordinary event for a meeting arranged at the last minute.
About one hundred and twenty recognized states were connected to this session.
The conversation was opened by the U.N. representative, a neutral voice during such assemblies.
U.N. Representative: "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending this special session of the United Nations General Assembly."
A low murmur spread through the room.
U.N. Representative: "As you know, an unidentified craft has entered French airspace, then German, and is currently heading toward Russia. After investigation, it appears to be linked to no known country and shows no sign of weaponry. It therefore poses no immediate threat. However, its technology and its ability for sustained flight far exceed our current understanding."
American President: "To whom does this craft belong?"
U.N. Representative: "That information has not yet been confirmed."
French President: "According to our reports, which match what the public already knows, the craft was seen near the Eiffel Tower distributing flyers announcing its journey, which caused a crowd movement that the police had to disperse. We still don't know whether this is a peaceful initiative."
German Chancellor: "We observed similar events at the Brandenburg Gate. Even with our police on-site, the craft remained briefly to broadcast its message within our territory."
Chinese Prime Minister: "Is that all you have to declare, Chancellor, or have you omitted a few details about its departure from your country?"
German Chancellor: "What are you implying, Prime Minister?"
Chinese Prime Minister: "Our satellites traced its trajectory from France and detected that fighter jets escorted it to one of your bases, where it seems to have escaped you. Were you attempting to seize whatever technology that craft might contain? Do you have any evidence to contradict this information, Chancellor?"
An uproar filled the conference hall — confirming the report Natali had sent me and proving we weren't the only ones tracking the ship's movements.
It appeared the German chancellor had indeed tried to capture it.
U.N. Representative: "Please, calm down. Chancellor, explain yourself."
German Chancellor: "That craft entered our territory illegally. We followed standard procedure to intercept an intruder. We could just as easily have destroyed it."
Moroccan President: "We must prepare for any possibility. It would be wise to devise strategies to neutralize the craft should it become a threat — perhaps by disabling one of its engines to force it to land or eject its pilot."
U.N. Representative: "According to observations, the craft has four engines, but we cannot guarantee the existence of an ejection module in case of emergency. It resembles no known aircraft model. Any forced landing could endanger the pilot's life."
I decided to speak, hoping to calm the growing tension around the idea of shooting it down and to shift their political approach.
Atlas: "Before taking radical measures, why don't we try to communicate with this vessel? A direct dialogue could help us understand its intentions.
Moreover, according to the flyers, a live broadcast will begin in the next five minutes. That will allow us to learn more about the actions of this individual who, so far, shows no sign of hostility. His craft even bears the word Liberty in several languages. This pilot seeks to send a message, not to declare war."
Russian President: "I wish to express my support for the pilot of this craft. He is now over my country and heading for Moscow. No attempt at forced landing will be made against him, though he will, of course, be escorted. I invite all nations to do the same, as long as he shows no threat. We must work together to study this vessel without compromising his freedom, or we risk creating a situation of stress that could lead to an unprecedented accident."
Japanese Prime Minister: "I share that view. We are prepared to welcome him within our borders, provided he poses no danger to our nation."
President of the United States: "Let us not forget that every nation has the right to protect its borders. We should cooperate, yes, but without infringing on each other's sovereignty. This craft might contain technological advances that could be used for beneficial purposes."
Algerian President: "Just make sure you don't keep those advances for yourselves — after all, that's what you Americans do best."
President of the United States: "Don't worry. He'll be well received once he's with us. Just make sure none of your bases accidentally fires a missile at him."
The discussion quickly turned sour, exchanges growing increasingly hostile between the American and Algerian representatives while the Europeans tried to mediate.
Natali gently tapped my shoulder to draw my attention.
"I'll withdraw and gather information on our target through his livestream."
"Very well, I'm counting on you."
I would have liked to follow her, but I had to stay for the rest of the meeting.
For now, the general opinion among the nations was to let the craft continue its flight as long as it caused no material damage.
The fact that the whole world was watching meant each country was monitoring the others' reactions.
Perhaps that was his very intention — to be seen, to gain a political and media shield.
The discussion kept circling back to the same question: what would happen when the craft needed to land?
Eventually it would have to — to refuel, if nothing else.
The debate over sharing its technology soon divided the assembly: some wished to claim it, others to leave it to its creator.
Personally, I leaned toward letting the inventor keep control, though under supervision.
Anyone capable of building such a machine might also be capable of anything — and no one yet knew his true intentions.
The meeting continued with talk of media manipulation and public reactions to the mysterious pilot.
Only I knew, through the Goddess, a fragment of his purpose.
But I still wondered what he might look like, and sincerely hoped he was a good man.
Natali Lonskaïa :
While the leaders debated, I kept taking notes, watching their reactions.
My dual role as secretary and bodyguard was to ensure that President Atlas always had every piece of information he needed to make informed decisions — even when discussions with certain states became… delicate.
The meeting dragged on, and it was clear this situation had sown tension among the nations.
The world's leaders were facing a riddle, questioning the pilot's intentions and the implications of his technology.
The debates piled up, with much still to be decided.
When the conversation drifted into political bickering, I seized the chance to tap the president's shoulder and whisper in his ear:
"I'll withdraw to collect data on our target via his live broadcast."
He gave me a faint smile and replied calmly:
"Very well, I'm counting on you."
I slipped quietly from the room, fading into the shadows so as not to draw attention while leaving the conference.
As I walked toward the operations room, I thought about the meeting.
It was mentally exhausting to deal with so many people while weighing every word to avoid offending an allied state.
I admired Atlas's patience for enduring such ordeals.
When I entered the control room, to my surprise Vivian greeted me with a coffee, which I gladly accepted.
She had trained with me in LADA, and we had become close friends.
"What are you doing here, Vivian? Is your mission already over?"
"Yes, I got back less than thirty minutes ago. You were still in that meeting, so I figured you'd stop by here eventually," she said, leaning casually against the railing.
"And how could you be so sure of that?" I asked, taking a sip of the coffee.
"Oh, Nana, please… I know you too well. And besides, the news has already gone worldwide."
I blushed slightly when she called me Nana — a small nickname she'd picked up over the years.
"Alright, alright. Let's watch the live together.
Operator 13, put the livestream on the main screen.
Operator 8, start a background check on a certain Jérémy Chapi."
"Great! Finally something different from routine work. I even brought popcorn."
I shot her a sharp glare.
"You'll put that popcorn away right now.
This isn't a movie theater, Agent Vivian — unless you want me to throw you out of here myself."
"Whoa, sorry! I'll put it away immediately."
She hurried to leave the popcorn on a nearby table before returning to my side.
Vivian wasn't like other agents.
She was the one sent when a mission seemed impossible — whether to save a VIP or eliminate a target.
Her temper often irritated the command, but on duty she was unstoppable, and few could keep up with her.
We were close friends outside of work too, often going out together.
Her face radiated a quiet strength — the kind of wisdom carved by experience.
With a more serious tone, she asked:
"What do you think of this whole situation?"
I paused for a few seconds before answering.
"It's complicated.
We're facing an unidentified pilot capable of crossing multiple countries at extreme speed.
He could start an international conflict without even meaning to.
I just hope this live will give us answers.
The President is hiding something — I'm sure of it.
He knows more than he can say for now."
Vivian's expression hardened into that predatory look she wore on missions.
"Want me to take care of him?"
"No, not yet.
But if he ever becomes a threat to our nation, you'll receive your mission order."
"Very well. I'll stay on standby then."
The livestream began on the screen, showing an endless green plain beneath a pastel sky.
In the middle of that field stood a wooden door that slowly opened, revealing a female figure drawn in an animated style.
She had long amethyst hair that seemed to drift in the wind of that imaginary landscape.
Gracefully, she stepped toward us, her flowing white dress rippling in rhythm with her hair.
Her deep brown eyes blended beautifully with her hair, emphasizing the harmony of her face.
Her features — angular yet delicately sculpted — seemed chiseled by an artist's hand.
Light and shadow danced along her cheekbones, lending an enchanting mystery to her already captivating aura.
Every movement revealed intense focus, betraying the strength and determination hidden beneath that natural elegance.
It was impossible to tell whether she was real or simply a masterfully crafted video meant to mesmerize her audience.
And now, she was about to speak to us.