《The World of Jennel - Book 2 : The Selection》 1 - Dramatic Revelation The beach stretched out in a vast expanse of sand mixed with pebbles, bordered by a sea with slow, steady waves. The deep blue water seemed almost motionless on the horizon but crashed into white foam against the scattered rocks near the shore. To the west, the river meandered gently before spilling into the sea, forming an estuary lined with reeds and small stagnant pools. Further away, a towering cliff dominated the coast, its summit housing the Source. Hidden from view but ever-present in the minds of the Survivors. To the east, the coastline gradually lowered, revealing rolling hills that seemed to fade into the horizon. After a frugal lunch, the Survivors began to gather on the beach, strictly following Imre¡¯s instructions on behalf of Alan. They kept their distance from the shoreline, forming small, scattered circles, their silhouettes elongated by the afternoon light. Murmurs spread through the ranks: "Why can¡¯t we get closer to the water?" asked a woman, her voice filled with unease. "It¡¯s Alan. He must have his reasons," replied a man with confidence. Others exchanged worried glances as they looked at the piles of luggage: "They¡¯re asking us to reduce everything to a minimum. How am I supposed to do that? I¡¯ve already left so much behind," murmured a young woman. "If Alan says we need to travel light, I believe him," someone interjected, their tone unwavering in faith. The atmosphere was a mix of questions and anticipation. Some voiced their concerns aloud, while others remained silent, staring at the sea as if it held hidden answers. The waves, constant and soothing, seemed to ease anxieties, but doubt still lingered. Imre moved among the groups, maintaining order: "Stay together. No unnecessary wandering. Heavy bags will slow everyone down. Follow instructions." Furtive glances turned toward the cliff, as if the Source could offer one last sign. But for now, all hopes rested on Alan, and the waiting, tinged with impatience and nervousness, grew as the sun slowly descended toward the horizon. Alan stepped onto the beach, Jennel at his side, and joined Imre. Someone hesitantly clapped, a solitary applause that quickly turned into a growing roar. The applause intensified, filling the air. Jennel followed suit, joining her hands in support. Even Imre, though somewhat reluctant, eventually clapped along. Alan, visibly surprised, nodded in thanks to the gathered crowd, a small smile at the corner of his lips. Turning to Jennel and Imre, he murmured, "It¡¯s time." He slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers brushing against a concealed object. Suddenly, the sea in front of them began to stir. A previously calm surface started to churn, increasingly violent eddies appearing in one specific spot. The murmurs of the crowd gave way to a tense silence. The turbulence grew stronger, and the sea seemed to literally rise. A dark, imposing mass gradually emerged, its metallic surface gleaming in the last rays of sunlight. The immense, almost ominous structure hovered above the water before slowly gliding toward the beach, stabilizing a few meters in front of Alan. Two identical manifestations occurred on either side of the first. The massive shapes rose from the water with the same majestic force before aligning themselves¡ªone on the right, the other on the left. They remained motionless above the sand, in total silence. The crowd stood frozen. Stifled exclamations broke the silence: "What is that?" "Is it dangerous?" Even Imre took several steps back, eyes locked on the strange structures. Their faces displayed fear and confusion. Some instinctively sought cover behind their companions, while others looked at Alan with near-accusatory expressions. Only Jennel, her face resolute and confident, took two steps forward to stand at Alan¡¯s right. He turned his head toward her, proud to have her by his side. "I was tired of playing boy scouts. I called for taxis," he said with a wry smile. "I suppose this is just the beginning," Jennel replied without flinching. Alan gave a knowing nod, his gaze fixed on the structures before them. He turned to the crowd, his smile reassuring as he raised his voice: "There¡¯s no danger. These are just transport shuttles. Step forward. They will take you to safety." The reactions varied. Some remained frozen, hesitant to move, while others whispered among themselves: "Shuttles? How can he be sure?" "We have to trust him. He¡¯s always known what he was doing." A man dared to ask: "Who controls these machines?" Alan responded calmly yet firmly: "I do." His answer provoked a mix of relief and skepticism among the audience. Alan then turned to Jennel and asked her to gather Bob, Maria-Luisa, Johnny, Yael, and Arman. Once assembled, they joined Imre, who was still eyeing the shuttles warily. Alan locked eyes with Imre and asked, "Do you trust Arman enough to manage things in your absence for an hour or two?" Imre hesitated but ultimately nodded. He then issued instructions to Arman. "Follow me," Alan instructed his group before advancing toward one of the shuttles. A large door slid open on the side, and the craft gently rested on the ground. They boarded, discovering an empty cabin with six front-facing seats. Alan, after a quick glance, apologized: "Sorry, we¡¯re one seat short." Without hesitation, Bob volunteered with a grin: "I¡¯ll sit on the floor next to Yael." Suddenly, all the side panels became transparent, offering an unobstructed view of the beach and the sea. Thin beams of light projected from the floor in front of Alan, forming a complex interface. He studied them for a moment, confidently deactivating a few, and almost instantly, the beach seemed to drop away beneath them. The shuttle lifted with an unnerving fluidity before accelerating rapidly toward a specific destination. Outside, the beach and hills faded into the distance, leaving the passengers both fascinated and bewildered by the technology they were witnessing. They couldn¡¯t hold back their questions any longer. Alan finally laughed and said, "I¡¯ll sum it up. This is an atmospheric transport shuttle, capable of briefly venturing into space, powered by simplified Gull anti-gravity projectors. It¡¯s on autopilot and taking us to one of seven prefabricated bases generously placed around the planet by these same Gulls. If we¡¯re flying low, it¡¯s intentional. You¡¯ll understand soon enough." They listened in silence, absorbing the information as best as they could. Finally, Jennel asked, "How do you know all this?" He turned to her with an amused smile: "Hypno-learning." She raised an intrigued eyebrow. "Is it useful?" "Impressive, actually," he nodded. "Can we access it?" she pressed, her eyes gleaming with interest. "If you wish. That¡¯s actually why you¡¯re here," Alan answered with a cryptic smile. Alan then added confidently: "A shuttle can carry twenty people with reasonable luggage: ten here where we are, and ten in a rear cargo hold. That means sixty people per round trip for the three shuttles. Eight trips, squeezing in a bit, will be enough. The weapons can be retrieved later." A question arose from the growing curiosity: "Can we contact the other bases you mentioned?" Alan smirked mysteriously before replying: "That¡¯s the real problem." He didn¡¯t elaborate, leaving an air of intrigue among the passengers. "We¡¯re arriving," Alan suddenly announced. The flight had lasted less than five minutes. Before them, a vast mountain landscape unfolded, imposing and desolate. Jagged peaks rose like slumbering giants, while the surrounding forests, scorched by the nanites, presented a grim spectacle. Despite the devastation, the grandeur of the location was striking: sheer cliffs framed the view, and snow-capped summits still shimmered in the sunlight, reflecting a glimmer of hope amid the ruin. On the horizon, a mountain cirque took shape with majestic clarity, its sharp contours defying the passage of time. As the shuttle approached, a brief flash erupted, and the scenery changed instantly. The cirque disappeared, revealing a vast, sloping alpine meadow, its lush green grass surreal in the midst of destruction. On this alpine meadow, a massive structure dominated the landscape. A pyramidal Base, seemingly made of white marble, stood proudly. Along its flanks, orange lights pulsed gently. The Base consisted of multiple levels of buildings, each adorned with large windows offering a breathtaking view of the surrounding mountains. At its center, a slender tower rose higher than the rest, appearing to pierce the sky. On each level, lush green gardens stretched out, a striking contrast to the dead forests beyond. Around the Base, winding paths invited exploration. Miraculously preserved groves of green trees surrounded the city. On the first level, landing pads equipped with discreet guiding lights indicated their purpose. The entire structure exuded a strange harmony, balanced between advanced technology and a preserved sanctuary. Alan turned toward his companions as the shuttle landed with flawless fluidity on the designated pad. The questioning looks fixed on him forced him to speak again. "I¡¯ll explain briefly. My journey took me to the deserts of Turkmenistan, where I had a strange encounter. A presence that provided me with this shuttle, allowing me to return here on autopilot. I don¡¯t believe this presence was Gull. I think another power is interacting with them, and that could be an interesting opportunity for us." His words left a heavy silence among his companions, who were absorbing the weight of these revelations. Alan continued: Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. "I spent two days here, exploring the Base and learning its essential functions. I¡¯ll guide you through it." The shuttle door slid open smoothly, revealing a suspended walkway. As they advanced, they were mesmerized by the view below: the monumental entrance at the ground level. A vast plaza, bordered by terraces, seemed designed for gatherings of a scale far beyond that of the Survivors. At its center, a main pathway led to a grand door opening into the towering central structure, whose elegant and imposing architecture commanded attention. The surroundings were dotted with lush green spaces, where plants of unknown origins thrived. Some had translucent stems, while others bore luminescent leaves, emitting a soft phosphorescence under the ambient light. Flowers of dazzling blue and deep red were scattered throughout the gardens, pulsating as if they were breathing. Secondary pathways led to countless entrances to the residential levels, with windows offering an unparalleled view of the majestic mountain ranges. The visitors halted at every step, speechless with astonishment, absorbed by the spectacle of nature and technology seamlessly intertwined. Alan observed them for a moment before turning and calling out in a loud voice: "L¨¦a, can you introduce yourself and inform my friends about the available accommodations and the nature of these plants?" A soft and polite female voice emerged from nowhere: "I am L¨¦a, the Artificial Intelligence of this Base. This site contains one thousand modular housing units, which can be interconnected or isolated according to the needs of their occupants. These plants are all of extraterrestrial origin, adapted to thrive in an environment compatible with that of Earth. They help maintain a stable ecosystem around the Base." The Survivors exchanged glances of wonder and disbelief, still struggling to grasp the magnitude of what they were witnessing. Imre turned to Alan with a puzzled expression: "That voice¡­ it was inside my head, wasn¡¯t it?" Alan realized his oversight: "I should have warned you about remote communication. You¡¯re all familiar with the advantages of linguistic exchanges via nanites, though it takes some training to focus effectively on intracerebral translation. The principle remains the same for remote contact: the transmitting and receiving devices communicate in a nanite-like language, so you only receive the internal translation without hearing the actual vocal message. All tonal nuances are preserved." They continued along the main pathway and entered the central tower¡¯s grand hall. The place was both majestic and soothing, with benches and lush flowerbeds that transformed the hall into a garden-like meditation space. A broad and imposing staircase led to the upper level. As they climbed, overwhelmed by the sheer novelty of it all, Jennel slipped a cold hand into Alan¡¯s. "I know it¡¯s a lot," he said, as much to reassure Jennel as the others. Upon reaching the next floor, they discovered a row of vertical capsules lined against a wall. Strange and intriguing. However, their attention was drawn to a large adjacent rectangular chamber. Upon entering, they were struck by the room¡¯s walls, which mirrored the shuttle¡¯s panels: a 360-degree representation of the Base and its surroundings. On one side of the room, complex beams of light, similar to those seen in the shuttle, were subtly visible. But what truly caught everyone¡¯s attention was the object at the center:a strange dome that pulsed gently, emitting a soft and steady glow. They wandered through the space, fascinated by the immersive view surrounding them. Jennel, more curious than the others, approached the dome. Her hand slid over its smooth, warm surface. Beneath it, she noticed a thin rod with a strange ring attached to it, oscillating between transparency and solidity, as if it wasn¡¯t entirely material. She cast Alan a questioning look, seeking answers to yet another enigma. Alan joined her and, slowly, passed his right hand through the dome. Jennel let out a surprised gasp, drawing the others¡¯ attention. With wide eyes, she watched as a ring materialized around Alan¡¯s middle finger while the image on the rod faded. "The real ring is on my finger, but outside of the dome, it¡¯s invisible and intangible. Inside, it¡¯s fully material. Watch." He demonstrated again, slowly withdrawing his hand from the dome. Immediately, the ring vanished from his finger and reappeared on the rod. "I can remove it inside the dome, and the dome itself can only be crossed by an ¡®Chosen One¡¯¡­ though I dislike that term." He paused, repeating the motion a few times to ensure they understood, before asking: "L¨¦a, what is the function of this ring?" "It is used to command the Base," the neutral female voice replied. Alan turned to Imre, his expression serious: "There are three security levels within the Base. By default, the lowest level is 3. Yours is currently 2. It may be elevated to 1 depending on your assigned roles." Bob, skeptical, crossed his arms: "Was this system set up by the Gulls?" Alan smirked before answering: "No, I activated it." Bob, still dubious, pressed further: "So you control everything here?" "A lot of things, but not everything," Alan admitted. Maria-Luisa then posed a crucial question, her gaze filled with curiosity: "And the nanites¡­ they don¡¯t attack this Base?" Alan took a breath before explaining: "The nanites within the Base¡¯s perimeter were destroyed by the Gulls, and a repulsive field keeps the rest at bay." Maria-Luisa frowned: "And what about us?" Alan replied calmly: "Our nanites were individualized since the Wave and are not affected." A moment of silent reflection settled over the group as they absorbed the magnitude of this information. Finally, Jennel, intrigued, asked: "L¨¦a, can we communicate with the other Bases?" The AI¡¯s soft voice responded without hesitation: "We can." Jennel immediately followed up: "Then why don¡¯t we?" L¨¦a seemed to pause before responding: "For security reasons." Frustrated, Jennel pressed further: "What reasons?" L¨¦a¡¯s response fell like a verdict: "I¡¯m sorry, your security level is insufficient." Alan watched the exchange with a certain pride, admiring Jennel¡¯s initiative and curiosity. "That¡¯s a subject we¡¯ll have to discuss collectively tomorrow," Alan said with a smile, but he was immediately met with a sharp glare from Jennel. Alan then explained calmly: "It is absolutely necessary for you to learn the basics of how this city operates and how to pilot the shuttles, as the migration of the Survivors must happen quickly. We also need to assign roles and educate them on how to manage the automated systems. They are highly efficient, but they need to be understood." Alan then led them into a hallway, stopping before the vertical hypno-learning capsules. Seeing them, unease crossed the faces of his companions. Johnny was the first to voice his doubts: "Are you sure this thing won¡¯t drive me crazy?" Alan shook his head with a reassuring smile. "No, nothing like that. You won¡¯t feel a thing. I went through this for nearly eight hours, and I¡¯m perfectly fine. For you, it¡¯ll be much shorter. Barely an hour." Maria-Luisa crossed her arms, still unconvinced. "And if we don¡¯t understand everything?" Alan replied calmly, "You will. It¡¯s an adaptive process that adjusts to your level of knowledge. You¡¯ll come out of it with a solid foundation." Bob raised an eyebrow and asked, "And what if I don¡¯t like what I¡¯m taught?" Alan smirked. "Then we¡¯ll discuss it afterward. But I doubt that¡¯ll be the case." One by one, his companions approached the capsules, their cautious movements betraying their apprehension. Johnny, after an exaggerated sigh, was the first to step inside. "Alright, let¡¯s do this! If I come out smarter than all of you, don¡¯t hold it against me." Maria-Luisa followed, though with some reluctance. "This thing better live up to its promises..." she muttered. The others entered one after the other, until only Jennel remained behind. Alan gently placed a hand on her shoulder and murmured, "Stay with me for a moment. I need to talk to you." Once the capsules closed, Alan led Jennel into the adjacent room. In a firm yet calm voice, he addressed the AI: "L¨¦a, the person beside me is Jennel. Her accreditation is upgraded to Level 1." "Jennel is now at Level 1," confirmed L¨¦a¡¯s soft voice. Alan turned to Jennel and said gently, "Ask the question again. The one that had no answer." Jennel nodded and asked, "L¨¦a, what are the security concerns regarding the other Bases?" L¨¦a responded without hesitation, "They are potentially hostile." Jennel turned to Alan, stunned, her mouth slightly open. She murmured, "But why?" Alan took a deep breath before explaining, "The Gulls have placed seven Bases, roughly evenly distributed across Earth. These Bases are meant to house groups of humans who have followed their ¡®Chosen One.¡¯ But the Gulls don¡¯t want seven. They only want one: the one that conquers all the others." Jennel stared at him, dumbfounded. "Why play their game?" Alan clenched his jaw before answering, "Because the anti-nanite repulsion field around this Base is gradually shrinking. In about thirteen months, it will be gone. Without it, survival here will quickly become impossible, as we cannot be certain the Base will remain active or the shuttles functional." Jennel, usually so strong, seemed to waver under the weight of these revelations. She placed a trembling hand on Alan¡¯s arm and murmured, "So¡­ our problem isn¡¯t solved¡­ We¡¯re in an impossible situation¡­" Alan slowly nodded, his expression grim. Jennel, a wave of despair in her voice, asked, "Then¡­ what do we do?" Alan locked his gaze with hers and answered, his voice filled with cold determination, "We conquer the planet." Jennel opened her mouth to speak, but only an incredulous whisper escaped: "Conqu¡­" She couldn¡¯t even finish the word. Shaking her head, eyes wide in disbelief, she finally blurted, "You¡¯re joking?" Alan sighed slightly before replying, "There are various ways to achieve this goal, and not all of them involve war. Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m not launching a military campaign." Jennel looked at him with a mix of concern and trust. Hesitantly, she asked, "But¡­ what happens when one Base wins?" Alan lowered his voice, almost ominously. "The Survivors from the other Bases await death, and the victors gain access to the ship in orbit." Jennel raised a trembling hand to her mouth. "That¡¯s monstrous," she murmured, tears welling in her eyes. Alan nodded slowly. "Yes. The Gulls are monstrous creatures." He gently pulled her into an embrace, feeling her slight trembling against him. "Their plans and rules have been implemented on many other planets. But there¡¯s something important to know: a foreign power, separate from the Gulls, understands their rules and their flaws. This power is meant to remain discreet and non-interventionist, but occasionally, it inserts imperfections into the Gulls'' designs." Jennel lifted her head, her brows furrowed. "Like what?" Alan replied softly, almost whispering, "If a shuttle came to retrieve me in Asia, it was because they hijacked it. And if I have knowledge I shouldn¡¯t have, it¡¯s their doing as well. The Gull logic has been tampered with." He placed his hands on Jennel¡¯s shoulders and met her gaze. "Listen to me carefully. All of this won¡¯t be revealed to the others in the same way I¡¯ve told you. I¡¯ll start with the good news first..." JENNEL I am overwhelmed, I should say desperate, but that¡¯s not what I feel. I want to fight. Because now, we have a clearly defined enemy. How is Alan going to break all of this to the others? The shuttles are returning, one after the other. The Survivors believe they¡¯ve arrived in paradise. But they¡¯ve merely swapped one hell for another. A frantic excitement fills every corner of the residential quarters. The first major concern is getting the food synthesizer to work. I was deeply worried about the outcome, but surprisingly, it¡¯s rather good. I just have no idea what it is. I keep coming back to my husband. He¡¯s making an enormous effort to appear unfazed, unshaken. At least in front of me. So I pretend too, just like him. 2 - Across the Oceans Alan woke up long before dawn. Jennel, worried to see him so restless, sat on the edge of the bed. "Alan, you¡¯re barely sleeping these days¡­" she said softly, concern in her voice. Alan, resting a hand on the edge of the table, sighed before turning to her. "I¡¯m thinking about everything: the Base, the Survivors, the next steps. And then¡­" He paused, searching for words. "And then, I¡¯m afraid I won¡¯t be up to it." Jennel stood up and approached him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Alan, if anyone can lead all this, it¡¯s you. Don¡¯t forget that you¡¯re not alone. I¡¯m here. And so are they, even if they don¡¯t always know how to help you." He gazed into her eyes, a faint smile forming on his tired face. "Thank you, Jennel. Sometimes, it¡¯s your look alone that reminds me why I¡¯m doing all this." She squeezed his arm gently before murmuring, "Then let me take care of you, at least a little." He prepared himself a hot chocolate. He was proud of this small victory. He had given L¨¦a a half-melted chocolate bar found in his pocket, and she had programmed the synthesizer to reproduce a chocolate drink. A successful experiment. Now, the entire city had access to it. Then he used the waterless shower, though he still didn¡¯t fully understand how it worked. It was apparently effective, but he missed the soothing sensation of water against his skin. He dressed in a simple yet practical gray outfit that radiated a natural authority. The finely textured fabric fit him perfectly, accentuating a confident silhouette without being ostentatious. Thin silver bands ran along the shoulders and sleeves, subtle but distinctive, as if only insignias were missing to complete his commanding presence. Jennel had designed it in the synthesizer, insisting on elegance and practicality while ensuring Alan had the aura of a true leader. He made his way to the main hall. It was dimly illuminated by the countless habitation slots, each emitting a soft glow that played across the metallic-looking walls of the Base. The shadows of the structures and walkways intertwined on the floor, forming fleeting patterns, while brighter lights from the still-awake apartments added depth to the space. It was a mesmerizing sight, reminding Alan of the vastness and complexity of the Base he now led. He settled in front of the interface of shifting colored beams and began his exchange with L¨¦a. Intricate interactive holograms appeared around him: sketches, diagrams, plans, histograms, and other figures, which he manipulated with precision. He was so absorbed that he didn¡¯t notice Jennel silently approaching him. She stood still for a few moments, fascinated by the glowing, moving forms, before reaching out and adjusting one of the figures. Alan flinched slightly and turned to see her. Jennel was smiling, intrigued. "It¡¯s strange. I completely understand what I¡¯m doing. These are the hydroponic cell productions, and you¡¯re running a simulation, aren¡¯t you?" she said confidently. Alan smiled, amused. "Well done, you¡¯re going to surpass me quickly." "That¡¯s a certainty," she replied teasingly. Alan turned fully toward her and took a moment to admire her. Jennel was wearing a black jacket with a slight neckline and matching trousers. Simple yet enhancing her natural elegance. He gave her an approving smile. "L¨¦a, I want a world map with all the Base locations," she suddenly requested. The map instantly appeared before them, projected in three dimensions. Jennel frowned. "But you¡¯re only showing four. Where are the other three?" she asked. "I don¡¯t know. Only Alan does," L¨¦a replied with absolute neutrality. Jennel shot Alan an inquisitive look, searching for an explanation. The morning was dedicated to familiarizing everyone with the Base. Jennel formed four motivated teams tasked with exploring the Base and helping others understand and feel reassured about its functions. Their main mission was to convince the inhabitants to use the hypno-learning helmets available in each slot, designed to teach them the structure of the city and how to best utilize the synthesizers. Not all interactions went smoothly. In one section, a skeptical man shook his head at the helmet. "I don¡¯t want my brain washed!" he protested. One of the team members, patient, responded, "It¡¯s not brainwashing. It will simply help you understand how to use the resources here, like the synthesizers. You can verify everything afterward." The man finally gave in, though not without grumbling. In another sector, a woman hesitated. "What if it changes the way I think?" Jennel, who was passing by, intervened directly. "I had that fear too. But I tested it first, and all it does is teach you practical knowledge. It doesn¡¯t alter anything else. Try it, you¡¯ll see." The woman, still hesitant, was finally convinced by Jennel¡¯s determined reassurance. That afternoon, an official meeting of the community representatives and Alan¡¯s close allies took place in a large hall on the first floor of the tower. The room, well-lit, was furnished with simple seats and a central table where Alan took his place. Alan stood up to address the assembly. With a clear voice, he presented a version of the situation that was both softened and truthful: "I promised you one year of safe shelter, and that promise still holds. But we can extend that security if we put in a little effort. Think of it as a one-year lease, renewable, but with a landlord who enjoys setting challenges." A few light chuckles rippled through the assembly. He continued, his tone turning serious: "The Gulls, as abominable as they are, enjoy playing games. They expect each Base to take control of others. However, we have a significant advantage: the other Bases only know the locations of four occupied ones, whereas we know all of them. That gives us an excellent starting point." He let a pause settle so that his words could sink in before continuing: "The prize of this competition? Access to the Gull spaceship in orbit. Now, I know that may sound overwhelming, but we have to play their game. The field that protects us from the nanites is shrinking. This isn¡¯t an immediate threat, since we have the shuttles to compensate for any supply issues. But we need to understand their ultimate goal. And to do that, we must take action." Jennel remained impassive at this almost optimistic presentation of a dramatic situation. After a long silence, Imre spoke in a measured yet incisive tone: "How exactly do we plan to take control of these Bases?" Alan, having anticipated this question, replied calmly: "For three of them, we simply need to reach them by shuttle. The others¡­ we¡¯ll have to deal with on a case-by-case basis." Imre raised an eyebrow. "And what do we do with the Gull spaceship if we gain access to it?" Alan crossed his arms, his expression hardening slightly. "Impossible to know until we get there." A voice rose from the assembly: "What happens if the nanites reach here?" Alan turned toward the speaker. "That would mean less food grown on-site and the destruction of our green spaces. But again, we have the shuttles to compensate for those losses." Maria-Luisa didn¡¯t seem satisfied. "The other Bases are going to do the same as us, aren¡¯t they?" Alan nodded. "Yes, they will follow the same objective, using whatever means they have." She continued, her eyes glinting with worry. "Can they attack us?" Alan answered firmly: "They understand the power of our repulsion field since they have a similar one. For now, no Base has the military capability to wage war." A murmur rippled through the room before Rose pressed further: "Why this stupid game, after everything they¡¯ve done?" Alan paused, letting a heavy silence settle. Then, he finally answered softly: "That is precisely what we need to find out." At the end of the meeting, people left, divided between confidence and perplexity. Alan pulled Imre aside. "Imre, I need you for something important. I¡¯m appointing you Head of External Operations. You¡¯re also moving up to Security Level 1 in the Base." Imre blinked in surprise but remained silent. Alan continued: "You¡¯ll need to appoint a Chief of Security for internal police operations. But above all, we need to form and train small militarized groups. They¡¯ll be deployed outside the Base, mainly to take control of the three Bases whose locations remain unknown to the others." Imre crossed his arms, visibly caught off guard. "That¡¯s a lot to take in at once. But I suppose it¡¯s an unavoidable step." Alan nodded. "Exactly. We can¡¯t remain passive. Do you understand how critical this mission is?" Imre slowly nodded before asking: "Tell me: was your presentation earlier really true?" Alan gave a reassuring smile. "Completely. It¡¯s just a matter of how it¡¯s told." Imre studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Alright. I¡¯ll start organizing everything." Alan placed a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Imre. I knew I could count on you." JENNEL What a day! What a performance from Alan! If I understood correctly, we¡¯re at a mountain summer camp for a year. Longer if we win the reality show called ¡°Gull Academy.¡± The grand prize? A space cruise. No details on any runner-up prizes, if they even exist. We earn as many points as Bases we capture, but we need seven points to win. And anything goes. This is going to be intense. I keep discovering new sides of my husband every day, but today¡­ "he really outdid himself," as Johnny would say. Aside from that, he needs me as much as I need him. I have to support him more. Like this morning, when he finally had a moment to breathe. Operations Control Room. Alan was waiting for Imre, who arrived shortly after, looking serious. He wasn¡¯t alone. He was accompanied by six recruits, lined up behind him. Jennel, Maria-Luisa, Bob, Yael, and Arman, who was now the Head of Security, stood discreetly in a corner of the room, observing without intervening. Imre introduced his team in a formal tone: "Alan, here are the first recruits selected for the tasks we anticipate." He pointed to each member in turn. "This is Laila and Alina. Both had military training before the Wave." Laila, a woman of Arab descent, stood straight, her piercing eyes showing determination. Alina, a Romanian, displayed an equally confident posture. "Here are Samuel and Boris, former military personnel. Samuel, originally from Ethiopia, and Boris, from Russia. Their combat experience will be invaluable to us." Samuel nodded soberly, while Boris maintained a cold and focused gaze. "Finally, Mehmet and Khaled, two of my best guards. Mehmet, a Turk, and Khaled, originally from Egypt, have distinguished themselves through their discipline and reliability." All were dressed in the same uniform, specially designed for the occasion. A simple yet functional outfit, gray with black trims, reinforcing their cohesion as a team. Their expressions were serious, and though a quiet tension filled the room, they all seemed focused on their roles. Imre added: "To ensure military discipline, I have introduced ranks. They are all sergeants for now. I take the rank of captain. You remain, naturally, the commander." Alan gave a satisfied smile. "That¡¯s perfect, Imre. Have you selected the best weapons?" If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Imre nodded. "Yes, we¡¯ve chosen the most reliable and effective among those we recovered." In one section of the room, L¨¦a projected a holographic map of the world. The four known Bases were marked in bright red. Alan stepped closer and observed the markers carefully. The others followed his gaze, silent but visibly curious. Alan focused, then began: "To locate our own Base, we are here, in the Ka?kar Mountains of Turkey. A strategic location, isolated and protected by its difficult access." He paused, allowing everyone to take in the Base¡¯s position on the map. He then pointed to another location: "Here, in the semi-arid Karoo of South Africa, lies another Base. The region is characterized by its vast plains and rocky landscapes. It¡¯s an area both hostile and beautiful, ideal for deterring outsiders." Alan slid his finger across the map and indicated another position: "The South African Base has taken control of the one located in Como¨¦ National Park, in C?te d¡¯Ivoire. The region, once rich in biodiversity before the Wave, is now suffocating under the spread of nanites." Finally, he stopped at a point in North America. "And here, in the Canadian Rockies, lies the Base of Banff National Park. Surrounded by towering mountains and glacial lakes, it¡¯s a natural fortress that makes any outside access extremely difficult." Alan turned to face the assembly. "As for the three other Bases, they are still unknown to the others, but not to me. Their locations were revealed to me during my journey through Turkmenistan by an unknown ally." As he spoke, L¨¦a added the new positions to the map in bright blue. "The first is in the Australian Outback, near Kata Tjuta, also known as the Olgas. A vast, arid land with impressive rock formations, completely isolated." "The second is in the Altai Mountains, at the border between Mongolia and China. These majestic and wild peaks are difficult to access but offer a remarkable strategic position." "Finally, the last one is in the Peruvian Andes, deep in the Sacred Valley. A mysterious area, surrounded by steep mountains and ancient ruins that seem untouched by time." Alan stepped back slightly, observing the red and blue markers on the map. "This information is our greatest asset. We must use it wisely." He turned to his companions. "The three blue Bases are accessible. We must explore and take control of them quickly. That will be one of the first missions for this team." He paused, then added: "Imre, make sure their training is rigorous. They must be ready for anything." Imre nodded, casting a firm glance at his recruits. "They will be, Commander. You can count on us." Jennel had been watching in silence, her arms crossed, but her eyes revealed a hidden concern. She finally spoke: "Alan, what happens if another Base discovers our movements?" Alan answered calmly: "We will have to act discreetly. Our shuttles are equipped to avoid detection. And if confrontation becomes inevitable, we will be ready. But I hope it won¡¯t come to that." A brief silence settled in the room as everyone absorbed the gravity of the challenges ahead. Alan, Imre, and his team had followed a low-altitude route, skimming over the calm, shimmering waters of the Red Sea before flying over the endless dunes of the Arabian Peninsula. The shuttle then crossed the Indian Ocean, offering a breathtaking view of the vast blue expanse, punctuated by a few isolated islands. Upon reaching the Australian coast, the landscape changed dramatically: an arid expanse dotted with imposing rock formations and endless red earth stretched as far as the eye could see. From there, the shuttle drew a straight line towards Kata Tjuta. The majestic silhouettes of the Olgas gradually emerged on the horizon. Massive domes stood tall, imposing, like remnants of a forgotten past. Around them, sparse, yellowed, and fragile bushes dotted the arid expanse. The dry riverbeds snaked through the desert, remnants of a time when water once flowed freely. Since the exact position of the Base was undetermined, the shuttle flew in concentric circles over the area. Though the journey had taken two hours at the cautious altitude chosen, another hour passed before they finally located the city. The wait weighed heavily inside the shuttle. Some began to question whether the Base truly existed or if the intelligence they had received had been flawed. Worried glances were exchanged, and a murmur spread among the team: "Were we sent here for nothing?" Imre nervously checked the holographic indicators. Alan, though focused, couldn¡¯t help but wonder if he had overestimated his information, a brief flicker of doubt crossing his mind. The shuttle detected the repulsion field, but Alan''s presence was necessary to pass through it. Even that wouldn¡¯t have sufficed if the Base had already been activated by another Chosen One. The city that appeared before them was an exact replica of their own. They made several low passes, but Alan detected no Specters. There were no available landing pads inside the Base. Its three platforms were already occupied. The shuttle had no choice but to land on a flat area outside the structure. Imre¡¯s soldiers were the first to disembark, securing a perimeter despite the apparent lack of danger, as Alan had assured them. Their methodical movements testified to their rigorous training. Alan briefly observed the preparations before joining the group. Once the perimeter was secured, they advanced toward the main entrance, which stood wide open, as if waiting for them. Alan immediately climbed the staircase leading to the control room, where the dome glowed softly at the center of the chamber, radiating an almost hypnotic light. He hesitated for a moment before extending his hand with a certain apprehension. As his palm touched the dome¡¯s surface, a diffuse warmth spread through his fingers. His hand penetrated the dome, and his ring appeared on his finger. He grasped the material ring of the Base, and his own ring split into two around his middle finger. The dome now contained only an immaterial ring. And in an instant, the Base came to life. The walls faded, revealing a panoramic view of the Base¡¯s surroundings. Alan spoke: "Local AI, connect to L¨¦a and subordinate yourself to her protocols." A brief silence followed before the AI¡¯s neutral voice responded: "Connection established. Priority reassigned to L¨¦a." "Deactivate the invisibility and repulsion fields. Keep only the anti-nanite protection active." The AI confirmed: "Fields adjusted. The Base is now accessible as a reception point." Alan sighed, feeling the tension leave his shoulders. He turned and rejoined Imre and the team, who were waiting impatiently. "It¡¯s done. We can return." Leila, Alina, and Mehmet had learned to pilot the shuttles; they took command of the three Base shuttles and joined Alan¡¯s for the return journey. The four crafts returned without incident along the same path. Upon arrival, Jennel was waiting, visibly stressed. She ran toward Alan the moment he set foot on the ground, urgency flashing in her eyes. "Come quickly! You need to see this!" she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with no further explanation toward the main hall. Alan, intrigued, let her lead him. Upon reaching the dome, Jennel pointed at the glowing structure, her excitement mixed with palpable relief: "Look! For the past few hours, there have been two immaterial rings." "That confirms the transfer of control was successful," Alan murmured, his expression marked by restrained satisfaction. Still visibly energized, Jennel added: "Two rings! That means we have centralized control, doesn¡¯t it?" Alan nodded with a smile: "Exactly. Everything is working as planned." Jennel, reassured, let out a long exhale and leaned against the wall, finally feeling the tension drain from her shoulders. For the journey to the Peruvian Andes, Alan decided to depart with two shuttles. Imre piloted the first, with Alan and four soldiers on board, while Alina commanded the second, accompanied by Mehmet and three new pilots. The shuttles, precisely synchronized, followed a carefully planned trajectory. The journey began with a crossing towards Iceland, where the clear sky offered a spectacular view of black lava fields and shimmering glaciers. Deep fjords and steep mountains painted a landscape both majestic and desolate. The shuttles briefly slowed to adjust their sensors before continuing westward. Arriving over Newfoundland, the scenery changed dramatically. The rocky coasts, lined with dying forests, were bathed in soft light, and remnants of a vanished humanity appeared here and there: deserted villages, silent ports. Alan, fascinated, observed every detail through the transparent walls, remaining silent. "It¡¯s strange to see so much beauty and so much solitude at the same time," he murmured. Imre nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the ocean stretched endlessly. The shuttles then followed the Atlantic coast of Brazil, offering an impressive view of endless beaches and tropical forests that, though in decline, still held patches of green vitality. The contrast between the lingering life and the absence of human presence deepened the eerie nature of this dying world. Mehmet, in the second shuttle, made some humorous remarks about the visible heat and humidity, which triggered laughter across the crew communications. Finally, the Andes appeared on the horizon, their towering peaks standing like a natural barrier. The shuttles began their approach toward the Sacred Valley. The foothills of the mountains were marked by ancient agricultural terraces, remnants of past civilizations. Below, a winding river reflected the sunlight as it snaked through the valley. The shuttles slowed to conduct concentric circles above the valley. Imre monitored the sensors, searching for signals confirming the presence of the Base. "It¡¯s here," he finally murmured, his eyes fixed on a particular point in the valley where the light seemed to flicker. The shuttles descended toward a flat area surrounded by mountains, ready to uncover what this new Base had to reveal. "Activate your invisibility fields immediately," Alan shouted to the pilots. He had just detected a high concentration of Specters near the Base. The shuttles approached cautiously. Groups were forming a few hundred meters from the repulsion field, and columns of people arrived via trails ascending and descending the slopes. Imre searched for Alan¡¯s reaction. Alan lightly tapped his temporal communicator, establishing an immediate link with L¨¦a, and asked if the Base was activated. The answer was negative. What was happening? Alan thought for a few moments, pinpointing the nearby Specters, and made his decision. He ordered Mehmet to hold position outside the field. He instructed Imre to penetrate the field and hover in a stationary position in the middle of the square. Imre let out a long sigh. The descent was a true test of skill. Imre, focused, maneuvered the shuttle carefully, avoiding the suspended walkways and housing blocks that seemed to emerge from nowhere within the dense structure of the Base. Occasionally, he had to abort a maneuver, climb higher, and adjust his approach to find a safer passage. Despite the anti-gravity systems, the shuttle trembled under abrupt direction changes, and warning lights on the console flickered frantically as they neared obstacles. Finally, after a tight final turn, the shuttle reached a stable position at the center of the square, surrounded by the towering structures of the Base. A man stood on the terrace in front of the central tower, looking up, alerted by the sound of their approach. Imre realized he had barely avoided colliding with some of the structures. Then he wondered why their arrival had been so narrowly timed. He suspected the coincidence wasn¡¯t natural. Boris suggested eliminating the man before he could enter the tower. Alan felt that something was missing and that there were no true coincidences. "I¡¯m going out," he said. The man had no visible weapon. "Commander... " Imre began. Alan stopped him with a gesture, instructing him to disable the invisibility field and open the shuttle doors, ordering the others to remain out of sight. He stepped out. The man seemed petrified by the sudden appearance of the shuttle, staring as Alan approached. Alan analyzed his Specter. The man instinctively reached for a weapon that was no longer at his side. Alan stopped. And he began to speak: he welcomed him to his Base, stating he was pleased by his presence but that the wait had been long. He introduced himself and asked for the man¡¯s name. The man hesitated, his voice trembling as he answered, "Inti." Alan continued calmly: "How long have you been waiting here? Your people are gathering outside. Why are you here?" The questions piled up. The man hesitated, glancing around furtively. Then, at last, he spoke, his voice shaky but distinct. Inti told a strange story. He explained that he was not the one the gods had been waiting for and that he was asking for their forgiveness. Inti had a friend, Carlos, who had taken him to "Inti Llaqta" (The Light, in quechua) at the temple of Sacsayhuam¨¢n in the Sacred Valley. There, the god Viracocha had spoken to Carlos at the temple altar and shown him a path. His friend Carlos had wanted to lead everyone there, but a group of white men had forced him to reveal the route. The white men had returned without him and had gone down to Cusco to gather explosives. Inti had followed the path his friend had entrusted to him. When he reached the base of a steep trail¡­ Inti hesitated before speaking, as if reconstructing the events in his mind. He explained that he had found Carlos wounded, groaning in pain. He had tried to help him, dragged him to a safer spot, then attempted to remove the bullet that had struck him. He stammered through his explanation, recalling how, in panic, he had made a fatal mistake. Carlos had struggled, there had been blood¡ªtoo much blood. Inti swallowed hard, his voice breaking, avoiding saying outright that he had been the one to kill him. He had continued alone, and at last, the City of the Gods had appeared before him. Seeing its towering structures and imposing contours, Inti felt a profound mix of awe and fear. The architecture, which he perceived as divine, surpassed anything he had imagined. Every detail seemed imbued with mystery and power. "You¡¯re lying," Alan interrupted. "You couldn¡¯t have entered the Base alone." He stammered again, explaining that Carlos had been gravely wounded, unable to move. He had dragged him to the Base, as Carlos had asked. That was when he had tried to remove the bullet. But he had been overwhelmed by a deep anxiety. The fear that he had committed sacrilege by walking a path he was not worthy of treading. He had prostrated himself repeatedly, whispering prayers, begging the gods for forgiveness. "Why did you let me come here if I am not worthy of crossing your doors?" he wondered, heart heavy. Every step he took was filled with reverence and a visceral fear of judgment. For days, he had waited for their arrival, but his provisions were nearly gone. With each passing day, his hope of being welcomed faded further. Inti was consumed by doubt, convinced that the gods had abandoned him for daring to enter this sanctuary. "Are you here for me? Or to punish me for my sacrilege?" he asked, his eyes filled with doubt and a glimmer of hope. Alan pondered what to do with Inti. "Do you want the people outside to come into this city? I promise they will find food." "Not the white murderers. The others, yes." Alan nodded, understanding. "Men, not gods, are in this machine. They are my guards, so you have nothing to fear from them." Alan gestured for Imre and the others to exit the shuttle. Inti, paralyzed, stepped back slightly upon seeing the men disembark one by one. Alan approached slowly, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "Do not be afraid," he said gently. "They are here to help me and to help you. Look, they mean you no harm.¡± Imre and the others adopted a non-threatening stance, their movements deliberately slow. Alan took a few nutrition bars from his pocket and handed them to Inti. "Take this. Eat something, you must be exhausted," he added, offering a reassuring smile. Inti hesitated but finally accepted the food, his hands trembling. Alan watched as the man devoured the bars, a clear look of gratitude in his eyes, then abruptly straightened. "Stay here for a moment. I need to do what we came for." Rushing towards the dome chamber, Alan found the door open. He proceeded as before: the two rings on his finger split into three. The Base¡¯s AI activated instantly, and Alan commanded: "Subordinate yourself to L¨¦a." "Link established. L¨¦a is now the primary command authority," the artificial voice responded. Alan stood still for a moment, absorbed in thought. He called Mehmet via his communicator. "Mehmet, describe the activity outside." After a short pause, Mehmet replied: "A group of about ten armed men is at the edge of the field. They are keeping the others at a distance." "What are the others doing?" "They seem to be under surveillance, Commander. They''re digging along the perimeter of the repulsion field, but their movements clearly indicate they are working under duress, threatened by the armed men." Alan''s expression hardened. "Keep watching them." Alan wasn¡¯t worried about their efforts. They were unaware that the repulsion field wasn¡¯t just a dome but a sphere extending underground. He figured that a group of raiders was controlling the area outside, but given the increasing number of newcomers, their position was weakening by the hour. They must have been desperate to get inside. "Good," he thought with a fierce smile. "Everyone into the shuttle, including Inti," he ordered. Alan walked back at a measured pace while contacting the AI: "Deactivate the repulsion and invisibility fields." He added: "Mehmet, position the shuttle in front of the Base''s main entrance." Alan climbed into his shuttle and called out to Imre: "Get us out of here and join Mehmet." The exit was as challenging as the entry, with the crew preventing Inti from leaping into the seemingly endless void; thankfully, only an optical illusion created by the shuttle¡¯s panoramic view. Alan had been right. After the initial shock, the ten raiders rushed toward the Base, shooting behind them to prevent anyone from following. A few people collapsed, and the crowd froze. The raiders made it halfway to the Base when the shuttles reappeared and all hell broke loose. The shuttles weren¡¯t heavily armed, each equipped with only a single thermal cannon at the front. The thermal cannons of both shuttles opened fire. An unbearable wave of heat engulfed the air around the raiders, and flames erupted, incinerating everything in their path. The men screamed, but their voices were quickly drowned out by the intensity of the fire. Within moments, nothing remained of them but an indistinct mass of ash and charred remnants, scattered across the ground. Alan, impassive, ordered: "Reactivation of the repulsion field." This allowed the crew to disembark Inti and the pilots while securing three additional shuttles. Alan took the time to give Inti a brief tour of the Base and attempted unsuccessfully to explain the function of the synthesizers. Frustrated, he finally instructed the AI to prepare complete meals in every slot, hoping that more curious or resourceful individuals would eventually figure out how to manage the situation themselves. 3 - Fear in Mongolia With the repulsion field deactivated once again, the five shuttles set off on their return journey, carefully avoiding proximity to Africa and North America. The South American Base was now likely registered in the other Bases as a possession of their Ka?kar Mountains Base. And this had happened less than an hour ago. While an interception attempt by another Chosen One was unlikely, the thought could easily take root in someone''s mind. Thus, the return route was different. The shuttles rose above the Andes, offering a breathtaking view of isolated valleys and peaks worn down by time. However, the valley slopes were barren, the trees stripped lifeless by the nanites¡¯ massive destruction. The ground vegetation appeared to be withering, adding a layer of sorrow to the once-majestic landscape. The low-angle light of dusk cast long shadows over the ridges, and the overwhelming stretch of mountains seemed to extend endlessly. Flying over the Pacific Ocean, the shuttles passed by atolls and scattered islets, remnants of ancient sunken volcanoes. The turquoise color of the water contrasted with the sky, yet even here, the absence of marine life was striking. The shuttles flew low to avoid detection risks, while the vast silence of the open space amplified the solitude of the journey. After long hours over the ocean, the Asian coastline emerged, bathed in a golden mist. Thailand, once lush and green, now stretched out in plains and rolling hills littered with dead trees. The rivers meandered between abandoned rice paddies, now sterile fields, while the absence of human life added to the strangeness of the scenery. The few remaining plants seemed to be fighting for survival, their leaves shriveled by an invisible force. Crossing the Andaman Sea, the shuttles made a brief stopover above the Indian Ocean before reaching India. There, the endless plains stretched as far as the eye could see, punctuated by ancient temples. Alan, observing the landscape, noted with sadness that the nanites were also devouring the last grasslands, turning the earth into a barren mosaic. The remnants of human civilizations seemed to be dissolving into a world in decline. Finally, the shuttles climbed again to cross the heights of the Pamir and the Himalayas, where the air grew clearer and colder. The sheer majesty of the mountains was overwhelming, but even here, the traces of destruction were visible. Some lower-altitude areas bore the marks of strangely dried-out soils. Only the highest peaks, shimmering with snow, seemed to escape the devastation. The final stretch took them across Turkey. The sight of the Ka?kar Mountains brought relief to the crew. The mountains still stood, but the forests that once covered them were almost entirely dead, leaving behind bare slopes. The remaining vegetation seemed to be struggling for every inch of spared ground. The shuttles landed in newly prepared docking areas. Alan found Jennel in the main courtyard, where the returning crew was congratulated on their success. Nine shuttles now rested on and around the Base. Jennel inquired about the mission. "Did it go well?" she asked. "Pretty well, but we had to enforce the law," Alan replied. Jennel gave him a strange look, but he pulled her into his arms, kissed her, and added, "I need to go talk to a friend." With those words, he strode toward the control room. Jennel, intrigued, followed him and quickly guessed the identity of this "friend." Alan sat down and asked, "L¨¦a, what happens if a Chosen One dies in their Base?" L¨¦a replied, "That Base will deactivate and can only be reactivated by a Chosen One from another Base. Just like you have done." JENNEL I didn¡¯t want to trouble Alan with my concerns about the Base¡¯s atmosphere. But it''s becoming increasingly urgent. He needs to know. And I think I have a few simple but good ideas. Maybe even very good... Alright, let¡¯s just say good. Alan stood at the center of the large council chamber, arms crossed, his gaze attentive. Around him, the key figures of the Base had gathered. The seven former members of Kaynak¡¯s Council, Imre, Rose, Yael, Maria-Luisa, Bob, as well as several other influential representatives of the group, were present. All were curious and somewhat concerned about the sudden meeting, which had been called at Jennel¡¯s initiative. She stood next to Alan, her expression serious, clearly troubled. She spoke in a calm but firm voice. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I¡¯ll be direct. Over the past few days, I¡¯ve been talking to many of you, observing reactions, listening to concerns. And what I feel is that something is wrong. We have achieved a critical goal: securing a safe refuge. But now, another challenge begins: the fight for stability. And if we don¡¯t anticipate it, we are heading toward serious problems." Jennel crossed her arms and scanned the room before continuing. "I¡¯ve already seen growing anxiety among many of us due to confinement. Yes, the Base is enormous, but it is also enclosed. Some are starting to feel deeply unsettled. They need space, air, a horizon. For some, it¡¯s manageable, but for others, it¡¯s turning into real psychological distress. We''ve seen people waking up in the middle of the night, sweating, panicked at the thought of being trapped." A silence settled. Some nodded discreetly. "We need a solution to give them the illusion of the outside. I propose two things: She paused to let them absorb her words before continuing. Jennel took a deep breath. "The second issue is more insidious but just as important. We live in a world entirely dependent on L¨¦a. She controls our food, our comfort, and even some logistical decisions. People are starting to worry. Some refuse to use the synthesizers, others fear the AI is hiding things from us or manipulating us." Nikos nodded. "I¡¯ve already heard that concern. Some believe L¨¦a is withholding essential information from us." Jennel nodded back. "Exactly. Here¡¯s what I propose: She turned toward Alan, who was listening attentively. Jennel then looked at Rose and Bob. "You were the first to point it out to me. Many people are starting to wonder what their purpose is. Before, they had a clear mission: survive, move forward, find the Source. Now that they¡¯re here, they have no bearings." Imre frowned. "You mean they¡¯re getting bored? After everything they¡¯ve been through?" "Yes. If we don¡¯t act, we will have cases of depression¡ªor worse, people becoming a danger to themselves or others." Alan nodded. "What do you suggest?" "We need to organize roles and give everyone a purpose. Even symbolic tasks, like maintaining common areas, learning to pilot, exploring the Base¡¯s data... can give people a sense of usefulness. We also need to establish a daily routine, with moments for learning, meetings, and physical activities to structure time." She looked at each person in the room, searching for signs of opposition or support. Alan straightened up and fixed Jennel with an appreciative gaze. "You¡¯re right. These problems will only get worse if we do nothing. To be honest, I¡¯m discovering Jennel¡¯s proposals just as you are, but they all seem realistic to me. I think we need to implement them quickly because I sense the urgency as well. I won¡¯t assign specific people; I ask you all to get involved and rally as many Survivors as possible to make these ideas a reality. Jennel can go over the details with you." A murmur spread through the assembly, some nodding in agreement, others still processing the information but willing to follow the plan. Jennel let out a quiet sigh of relief. She had been heard. The shuttle glided silently through the crisp air. Below, the landscape seemed to come alive in an explosion of unreal colors. Alan and his team watched in silence through the translucent walls as surreal mountains unfolded beneath them. The terrain undulated like waves of fire, streaked with deep reds, blazing oranges, and vivid yellows. In some places, whitish patches revealed the presence of oxidized minerals, sculpting a landscape that seemed almost extraterrestrial. As they moved forward, the colors blended into a shifting kaleidoscope, as if the earth itself had been painted with broad strokes of a brush. Yael, fascinated, murmured, "It looks like another planet... This is the first time in a long while that something actually feels alive." But this life was only an illusion. The land was dry, cracked from the absence of water, and only a few stunted bushes clung desperately to the barren slopes. There was no movement, no sign of animals, no fleeting shadow betraying the presence of anything other than these mineral ruins. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. The shuttle descended slightly, following the contours of a ravine where the colors seemed even more intense, as if the ground itself burned with an invisible fire. Alan watched in silence, his jaw clenched. The beauty of the landscape did little to hide the reality: like so many other places, this land was dead. Bob whispered, "A place like this would have been a paradise for scientists... just a few years ago." Alan nodded, then raised his hand slightly toward the console. "We¡¯re not staying long." The shuttle gently ascended, leaving behind that fiery desert: one last burst of color in a world slowly fading into darkness. A few minutes passed. The shuttle descended slowly, skimming the twilight air currents. The landscape stretched open before them like an ethereal painting, where the shimmering water reflected the sun¡¯s final rays, diffusing them in golden and crimson hues. Alan adjusted the trajectory, stabilizing the craft as they flew over a vast marshland, dotted with islands covered in glowing red vegetation. "Look at that," Yael whispered, mesmerized. The shallow pools sparkled beneath them, forming a patchwork of water separated by dark strips of land. In some places, tall golden reeds rose from the damp soil, swaying under the touch of the wind sweeping across the plain. The colors exploded in striking contrast¡ªthe clear blue sky, the deep red bushes, the burnt yellow of the reeds, and the silvery gray of the still water. The shuttle traced the contours of the pools, descending lower to avoid the blinding glare of the setting sun. Further to the left, the plain stretched dry and unyielding, leading to the Base that now stood on the horizon. Alan announced, "We¡¯re arriving. Let¡¯s find stable ground for landing." The shuttle touched down smoothly on an open patch of land near the pools. For a moment, everything seemed suspended in an eerie silence, disturbed only by the whisper of the wind slipping across the motionless water. Thus, they discovered the third Base marked in blue by L¨¦a. Alan¡¯s shuttle and the two others escorting it had activated their invisibility fields as soon as it became clear that the approach to the Base was concerning. Either it had no repulsion field or it was deactivated. They had landed at a safe distance. Alan, joined by Imre, formed a six-person combat team, leaving the others with Bob and Yael to guard the shuttles. The twilight cast its final glow over the plain, tinting the horizon in hues of copper and purple. Alan adjusted his gear and glanced at his companions. Imre stood beside him, his expression hard and focused, while the six fighters, including Leila and Mehmet, silently checked their weapons. Behind them, the three shuttles, invisible to the outside world, rested motionless like lurking shadows. "Stay together and stay quiet. If this Base has no repulsion field, it''s either inactive or under hostile control," Alan whispered. Imre nodded and signaled the others to move forward. They ventured into the plain, their footsteps muffled by the sparse vegetation. The ground was spongy in places, evidence of the marshes extending further beyond the red-tinged pools. The wind had risen, whistling softly through the dry grasses and lifting thin wisps of mist above the wettest patches. As they advanced, the darkness thickened, gradually erasing the outlines of the distant hills. They moved cautiously, their silhouettes blending into the shifting shadows. The absence of any light from the Base only deepened the growing unease. "It''s a trap," Mehmet murmured, scanning the darkness. Alan didn¡¯t reply immediately. Something was off. If the Base was abandoned, why was there no sign of occupation and not even a fire or a faint glow? If it was controlled, why were there no patrols, no suspicious movement on the horizon? They reached a small ridge overlooking a plateau below. Alan crouched and raised a hand, signaling them to halt. "Look," he breathed. Below, the Base finally came into view, a massive dark silhouette faintly outlined by the moonlight. It appeared intact but lifeless, frozen in an eerie silence. No signs of life. No visible presence. A shiver ran down Alan¡¯s spine. "We move in under cover. If it¡¯s an ambush, we won¡¯t give them the advantage." One by one, they descended the slope, vanishing into the darkness. Alan led the way, his gaze fixed on the imposing structure looming ahead. The Base, massive and silent, stood before them like an abandoned citadel, its smooth walls barely reflecting the ghostly light of the moon. The total absence of illumination heightened the sense of emptiness, but the team knew the layout of the Bases well enough to navigate. They moved cautiously, weaving between rock formations and uneven terrain. The wind, heavy with moisture, whistled through the deserted walkways, occasionally stirring up clouds of dust and ash that danced under the dim light. It was Imre who stopped first, his foot striking something rigid. "Shit," he muttered. Everyone froze. Alan crouched and peered at what lay on the ground. A body. Then another. Two corpses in uniform, their clothes torn, but their expressions did not show surprise or panic. They had fallen with weapons in hand, frozen in postures that left no doubt: they had fought to the last. "Look over there," Mehmet whispered, pointing into the shadows. More bodies, scattered, some slumped against the walls, others in firing positions. The acrid scent of blood and metal clung to the still air. Alan crouched beside one of the corpses, pulling back the tattered fabric covering its chest. A clean wound cut through its side. Imre exhaled through his teeth. "This looks like an execution after close combat. They put up a real fight." Alan stood and gestured to Imre. "We need light." Imre rummaged through his pack and retrieved several glow sticks. He cracked one, then another, releasing a soft green luminescence. He tossed two to his men, who passed them along. The first rays of light unveiled a massacre. The walls were riddled with bullet holes, molten metal fragments and shattered glass littered the ground. Everywhere, signs of struggle: makeshift barricades, abandoned weapons, ransacked equipment. "This wasn¡¯t a one-sided slaughter," Mehmet observed, pointing at a series of overlapping footprints in the dust. "Two distinct groups fought here. And there aren¡¯t just the dead." Alan scanned the area. "If survivors fled, they didn¡¯t take much with them." They advanced slowly through the entrance hall. The same grim scene repeated at every turn: makeshift barricades, clusters of corpses, scattered gear. Some doors were broken open, others welded shut with crude seals, as if someone had tried to contain something. Here is the English translation of your text with italicized dialogues: After several minutes of progression, they finally reached the control room. The sight was the same. But at the center, dominating the entire space, the large central dome stood, intact but lifeless, as inert as the rest of the structure. Alan slowly circled the dome, placed a hand on its smooth, cold surface, and briefly closed his eyes. "What happened here..." murmured Imre. No one answered. Imre observed the corpses and the silent battlefield for a long moment. He crouched near a body, examined the weapon still clenched in its hand, then looked up at Alan. "Two factions," he finally said. "The Chosen One¡¯s side and another. Maybe dissidents, invaders, or even Survivors from outside. What¡¯s certain is that one of them was well-organized, maybe even better equipped than us. And look at these barricades, these defensive lines..." Alan nodded, scrutinizing the burn marks on the metallic walls. "The repulsion field was deactivated," Imre continued. "But was it done under duress? Blackmail, infiltration, a mistake? Or was it just a technical failure? Anything is possible." Alan thought for a moment, then approached the central dome, imposing and silent. He placed his hand on its cold surface and stood still. "L¨¦a, do you read me?" he asked, activating his communicator. The soft voice of the AI immediately responded. "I hear you, Alan." "Can you connect to this Base¡¯s AI?" A brief silence followed, then L¨¦a replied: "Negative. This Base is in direct communication with the orbital ship via a security link. I cannot interfere as long as security protocols remain active." Alan clenched his jaw. "And what if we apply the rules of the Gull selection?" Another pause, longer this time. "There is a conflict. The selection is compromised by active security protocols. Contradictory authorizations detected." A chill ran through the room. A mechanical noise, faint at first, began to rise in intensity. Then, suddenly, the dome pulsed with a glowing orange light. An unstable magnetic ring appeared at the center, floating around a slender rod. Without hesitation, Alan reached out and seized it. Around his finger, the four rings appeared, each thinner than before, containing a power he still did not fully understand. Imre took a slight step back, watching the scene cautiously. "You just forced the Gulls'' hand, didn¡¯t you?" Alan gave a joyless smile. "I just reminded them of their own logic." Night fell over the abandoned Base, enveloping the ruins of battle in deep, heavy darkness. The group decided to wait until dawn before making a decision. The bodies lay scattered in silence, and the air was thick with tension. Imre assigned guard shifts, designating Mehmet for the first watch. He settled at the main entrance, his back against the wall, gripping his weapon tightly. The darkness felt alive, oppressive. Every noise, a whisper of wind or a distant echo made him tense. He had seen battlefields before, but never a place so frozen in chaos, as if the Base itself was holding its breath. His mind wandered. Who had attacked whom? Had the assailants managed to escape, or were their bodies lying somewhere in the shadows, deeper inside the Base? Would reactivating the dome trigger a response from the ship in orbit? And above all¡­ were they really alone here? The hours passed, long and silent, interrupted only by the changing of the guard. When the sun finally peeked over the horizon, casting a pale light through the shattered structures, they prepared to leave. Their first realization was bitter: of the three shuttles present on-site, only one was flight-worthy. The others had sustained damage during the battle or had simply been rendered useless, likely sabotaged. "We''ll take the one that works and head back," Alan declared, pounding his fist against the hull of the intact vessel. They boarded, and Alan programmed a different return route to avoid any potential interception. The shuttle rose swiftly, joined the other three, and took a course northeast, first following the Pacific coast before entering Russian airspace. The Siberian plains stretched endlessly beneath them, the forests nearly wiped out, their blackened skeletons marking the ground like relics of a lost era. Flying at a low altitude allowed them to observe ghost cities. Structures still standing but devoid of life, swallowed by snow or ice storms. Above the Arctic Circle, the night was brief, and they continued their journey toward Norway. As they crossed the Barents Sea, the shuttle skimmed the Norwegian coastline, where majestic fjords opened beneath them, now empty and silent. The sun¡¯s reflection on the frozen waters accentuated the eerie sense of a world trapped in an endless ending. They then veered south, quickly crossing the Baltic and entering central European airspace. Germany, then the Aegean Sea stretched beneath them before they finally descended toward the Ka?kar Mountains, their Base at last in sight. The shuttles landed smoothly on the designated platforms. Alan was the first to step out, followed by Imre and the rest of the team. Jennel was waiting for them at the Base¡¯s main gate, arms crossed, impatient. Her face relaxed as she saw them safe, but her gaze remained troubled. "So? Did everything go well?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Alan nodded with a tired smile. "Let¡¯s say we found the Base. But it wasn¡¯t exactly... inhabited." Jennel didn¡¯t press further, but she wasn¡¯t fooled. They had seen something important. "While you were gone," she continued, "one of our patrols over the Arabian Peninsula detected four shuttles flying in formation toward India. They were coming from the south." A silence settled. Then, slowly, Alan, Imre, and the others began to smile. "We¡¯re not the only ones playing this game," Imre said, amused. 4 - Unexpected Contact The atmosphere was subdued in the small apartment adjacent to the control room. The dim lighting from the wall synthesizers cast a warm glow on the surfaces, giving the place an almost welcoming feel despite the gravity of the conversation. Alan, seated on the minimalist couch, had just finished his account. Jennel, leaning against the table with her arms crossed, watched him in silence. The story was heavy, macabre. The scent of dried blood seemed to linger in the air between them, even though Jennel had never left the Base. She finally shook her head, sighing softly. "You know what? For once, I¡¯m glad I didn¡¯t go." Alan raised an eyebrow, a joyless smile flickering across his lips. "I won¡¯t lie to you, me too. But beyond the horror, there are lessons to be learned." Jennel nodded, waiting for him to continue. "First, we now have confirmation that the rules of the Gull selection take priority over certain security protocols. That gives us some room to maneuver if we know how to exploit it." She frowned. "Priority over what exactly?" "Over anything related to the organization of the Bases. It means that if we can insert ourselves into their logic, we can bypass certain restrictions." Jennel slowly nodded. "And the second lesson?" Alan leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling for a moment before responding. "The AIs of the Bases, like L¨¦a, are subordinate to the one on the ship in orbit." This time, Jennel straightened up. "That¡¯s a problem." Alan shrugged. "It could be a problem, or an opportunity. It depends on how we use it. For now, I don¡¯t know what to do with it yet." A silence settled between them. Then Alan turned to Jennel. "And you? How are the Base stabilization measures coming along?" Jennel hesitated, surprised by the question. "Honestly¡­ it feels so secondary compared to what you just told me." Alan frowned and leaned slightly toward her. "No. Not at all. It¡¯s just as important as the quest for the rings, if not more. We can¡¯t move forward if the Base doesn¡¯t hold together. What have you put in place?" Jennel sighed and sat down beside him. "Alright, listen. First, we organized mountain walks. No matter their physical condition, everyone can go thanks to the nanites. It gives them some fresh air, a sense of freedom." Alan nodded. "Good. And?" She smiled slightly. "We also set up educational sessions on how the Base¡¯s vital systems work. L¨¦a helps make it more engaging. There are demonstrations, discussions, and it reassures people about their future here." Alan listened with renewed attention. "You¡¯re going further than I expected." Jennel gave a small smile. "That¡¯s not all. We started using recordings from shuttle flights to project holograms in common areas and even inside the slots. It allows people to see something other than these walls. The sea, the mountains, the vanished cities..." Alan watched her with a glimmer of pride in his eyes. "That¡¯s brilliant, Jennel." She shrugged. "We¡¯re also thinking about creating activity groups to prevent isolation. But it¡¯s still in progress." Alan placed a hand on hers. "You¡¯re doing incredible work. We can¡¯t build a future without giving meaning to the present." Jennel, moved by Alan¡¯s sincere enthusiasm, leaned slightly closer to him. Their exchange subtly shifted in tone. "You know, what I¡¯ve become¡­ it¡¯s surreal," she murmured. Alan looked at her attentively. "What do you mean?" She took a deep breath, searching for her words. "I¡¯ve changed so much that sometimes I wonder if all this is real. If this world isn¡¯t just¡­ a simulation, an illusion designed to keep us here. What if all of this¡­ if we¡­ were just fragments of something else?" Alan took his time before responding. "You¡¯re making a mistake in reasoning, Jennel." She lifted her eyes to him. "What mistake?" "You still see a ''before'' and an ''after.'' The Wave, the nanites, the Gulls¡­ you see all of it as a rupture, a collapse followed by an awakening. But that¡¯s not how history works. There¡¯s no old reality and new one. Just a sequence of events. This world isn¡¯t an illusion. It¡¯s the logical continuation of what came before." Jennel lowered her gaze, pensive. "So¡­ there¡¯s no waking up from this." Alan shook his head. "Nothing to hope for, nothing to fear." She was silent for a moment, then leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Then we have to make do." Alan smiled softly. "Yes. And you do it better than anyone." They remained like that for a while, silent, two Survivors in a world that continued to reinvent itself before their eyes. That morning, a sharp cold settled over the Base, and the Survivors preferred to stay sheltered in their slots. The holographic projectors displayed various programs to keep minds occupied: detailed images of extraterrestrial plants cultivated in the Base¡¯s gardens, impressive footage of shuttles flying over the Altai Mountains from recent missions. The atmosphere was calm, almost frozen by the biting cold that seeped in despite the Base¡¯s thermal regulation system. A figure appeared at the entrance of the first floor of the central tower. A tall, athletic woman walked in with a confident stride. Her blonde hair was braided practically, and her sharp eyes scanned the space with an almost military focus. She wore a simple but functional outfit, a mix of expedition gear and on-site adaptations, without unnecessary embellishments. She stopped when she saw another woman standing in front of a terminal, hands clasped behind her back. "I¡¯d like to see Alan," she said in a slightly hoarse voice from the cold. The woman she addressed did not move immediately. After a brief silence, she slowly turned around, an amused smile on her lips. "I¡¯m not his secretary." The Norwegian froze for a moment before her eyes widened slightly in recognition. "I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t recognize you¡­" Jennel kept her smile but said nothing, observing her with cautious curiosity. "My name is Ingrid," the blonde finally said in a more measured tone. "I was in Oslo when it all started. I followed a Seeker who led us far east¡­ to Minsk." Her gaze darkened slightly before she continued. "He was killed there. I ended up resigning myself to following his murderer. He was a Seeker too." Jennel¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. "You resigned yourself?" A joyless smile flickered on Ingrid¡¯s lips. "Let¡¯s just say I wasn¡¯t his type. Otherwise¡­ I would have had to use my gift." She let the silence linger. Jennel, attentive, didn¡¯t press her, allowing Ingrid to speak at her own pace. "Does Alan know that there are a few people here with¡­ unusual abilities?" Jennel raised an eyebrow slightly. "What kind of abilities?" "Not always useful ones. But some are." She paused, fixing Jennel with intensity. "Like mine." Jennel crossed her arms, her gaze sharp. "And what¡¯s your gift, Ingrid?" Ingrid met her eyes and said in a calm tone: "I can implant fixed ideas in people¡¯s minds¡­ until they act on them." Jennel, taken aback, stared at her, trying to determine if she was joking. "You mean you can manipulate people¡¯s thoughts?" "Not exactly. I can¡¯t make them do what they don¡¯t want to¡­ but I can intensify an idea, make it persistent, until it becomes an obsession¡­ and they end up acting on it. It doesn¡¯t always work, but often." Jennel frowned, intrigued. "Show me." Ingrid hesitated, then smirked. "I wouldn¡¯t dare¡­" A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Jennel opened her mouth to insist, but at the same moment, she felt an itch and instinctively raised her hand to rub her eyes. Ingrid burst out laughing. "And there you go." Jennel slowly lowered her hand, realizing the absurdity of her gesture. There had been no reason to rub her eyes¡­ yet the thought had imposed itself, irresistibly. "Do you do that often?" she asked, crossing her arms. "Rarely. It gives me terrible migraines that even the nanites struggle to relieve. Once, I even had to take aspirin¡­ that says it all!" Jennel let out a small amused laugh. "And with Alan?" Ingrid lost some of her confidence and briefly looked away. "I¡­ tried. Just once. To get a good spot for a shuttle ride." "And?" Ingrid sighed and shook her head with an ironic smile. "I got a nasty bout of nausea and a terrible seat." Jennel burst out laughing, while Ingrid added with a shrug: "You have a strange guy!" "I¡¯m aware," Jennel replied with a smile. Jennel crossed her arms and looked at Ingrid with curiosity. "Do you know any other Survivors with¡­ interesting gifts?" Ingrid pretended to think, then raised an amused eyebrow. "Oh yes, I can think of at least two: Roberto and Andr¨¢s." Jennel tilted her head, waiting for the rest. "Roberto makes excellent pasta. The best." Jennel burst out laughing. "An invaluable talent, indeed!" "Don¡¯t mock! In this world, eating well is a luxury." Jennel shook her head with a smile. "And Andr¨¢s?" "He¡¯s more serious. He disrupts the nanites'' linguistic capabilities." Jennel narrowed her eyes, intrigued. "How so?" "When he talks to someone, he can alter the nanites'' comprehension. For example, he can render automatic translations useless or make a person hear one word instead of another. It¡¯s subtle but¡­ unsettling." Jennel slowly nodded. "That¡¯s interesting." Ingrid smiled. "I thought you¡¯d like that." They walked over to a table and asked L¨¦a for two coffees. The machine synthesized the drink, and Jennel brought the cup to her lips. "Meh¡­ Still needs work to match the chocolate," she said, grimacing. Ingrid blew on her coffee, nodded as she tasted it. "L¨¦a, take notes," she joked. Jennel set her cup down and changed the subject. "So, you came by land?" Ingrid shook her head. "No. I left Oslo with a group of survivors. We crossed Sweden, then Denmark, and headed south to Poland. From there, we traveled to Ukraine, always avoiding the big cities." Jennel raised an eyebrow. "Ukraine? You crossed the whole country on foot?" "Not entirely. We found bicycles¡­ We improvised. But it was risky. Too risky. We knew there were still disorganized armed groups scattered around." She sighed before continuing. "Eventually, we reached the southern coast. A ghost port, somewhere near Odessa. There, we found an old sailing boat still seaworthy. Only three of us had any knowledge of sailing, and even then, nothing serious. But we had no other choice. The land route to Turkey seemed too dangerous." A chill ran down Jennel¡¯s spine. "How did it go?" Ingrid let out a bitter laugh. "Horrible. There were twelve of us when we embarked. The sea was calm at first, and then¡­ the storm hit." She lowered her eyes slightly, her jaw tightening. "An entire night fighting against the waves. We couldn¡¯t see anything, water was pouring inside, and the hull was on the verge of breaking apart." She paused before adding in a quieter voice: "Five went overboard. We couldn¡¯t do anything." Jennel swallowed hard. "And you?" "We drifted all night, tossed around like rag dolls. By morning, the storm had calmed, but the boat was half-flooded, the sail in tatters. We were exhausted." "How did you survive?" "We spotted the Bulgarian coast. We rowed like mad with whatever we could. Eventually, we ran aground on a beach. It was over." A heavy silence settled between them. Jennel stared at her coffee, searching for something to say. "I¡¯m sorry," she finally murmured. Ingrid shrugged, a sad smile on her lips. "It¡¯s in the past. We survived." Jennel nodded softly. There were so many stories like this¡­ Too many. Jennel placed her cup on the table and studied Ingrid intently. "Do you think there might be others with¡­ gifts, here in the Base?" Ingrid shrugged, her gaze momentarily lost in the steam of her coffee. "I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s not exactly something people announce to everyone, is it?" Jennel nodded. "True. But do you think we should look for them?" Ingrid thought for a moment, then answered: "Maybe. But it¡¯s not easy. Some might not even realize they have a special ability. And others, like me, prefer not to talk about it¡­ because of how people might see them, or just out of caution. But one thing¡¯s for sure: there must be more in the other Bases. Statistically, that seems obvious." Jennel slowly nodded, the idea already taking root in her mind. "We¡¯ll need to talk to Alan about this. Come back tomorrow morning, he¡¯ll be here." Ingrid smiled as she finished her coffee. "Gladly." She stood up, cast one last glance at Jennel, then walked away at a leisurely pace, leaving her to her thoughts. . Alan and Johnny were helping Jennel organize introductory shuttle flights: a ten-minute ride over the mountains and valleys surrounding the Base. The idea was simple: to offer the Survivors a moment of lightness and escape, a chance to look at the world from above and forget, if only for a few minutes, the situation they were living in. However, the success was such that managing the rotations became a headache. Alan and Johnny, standing near a holographic scheduling board, struggled to establish a plan that would satisfy everyone. Jennel was writing down names and time slots as the Survivors signed up, their smiles sometimes mixed with excitement, sometimes tinged with apprehension. "We won¡¯t be able to fit everyone in today," Johnny remarked as he looked over the list. "We can always do more tomorrow," Jennel replied, focused on her organization. Alan nodded, adjusting the schedule, when a voice suddenly echoed around them, cold and authoritative. "Commander, an unknown shuttle is approaching the Base in a direct line. Arrival in nine minutes. I am activating the security measures you have prepared." L¨¦a had just intervened. Alan felt his stomach tighten at these words. An unknown shuttle, approaching in a straight line¡­ This was no casual visit. The alert had triggered instantly, and already, security protocols were in place. "Display the trajectory," he ordered, his eyes fixed on the map L¨¦a projected before him. On the hologram, the two patrolling shuttles, which had been quietly flying over the surrounding mountains, had altered their routes to converge quickly toward the intruder¡¯s position. On the ground, the response was even faster. Four of the standby alert shuttles stationed on the Base¡¯s improvised landing pads lifted off abruptly, forming a defensive perimeter around the site. At the same time, Imre¡¯s security teams were gearing up, donning their equipment and positioning themselves at strategic entry points. L¨¦a continued her report: "The four remaining shuttles are being recalled. Ground unit deployment is in progress." Alan turned to Johnny and Jennel, who had halted all preparations for the introductory flights. Jennel read the situation on his face. He didn¡¯t need to speak for her to understand. "Do you want me to stay here?" she asked. Alan hesitated, then shook his head. "No, come with me." They hurried toward the control room, where Bob and Yael were already waiting, observing the situation on the screens. The air was tense. "L¨¦a, request identification," Alan ordered. A moment later, the AI responded: "I have contact, Commander. They are requesting a holographic communication with the Chosen One." Alan exchanged a quick glance with Jennel. "That¡¯s too obvious a method," she murmured. "I know," he replied, frowning. "No one would risk communicating this way¡­ unless they wanted to be sure we were listening, and not just us." He took a deep breath before stepping onto the holographic communication platform. "Alright, let¡¯s do this." The room dimmed slightly, and a three-dimensional image came to life at the center. Two figures appeared in a sharp projection, surrounded by slight transmission interference. The man was tall, with an angular face and dark skin. He wore a uniform similar to Alan¡¯s, though in a darker shade. Beside him stood a woman with a regal posture, her hair shaved close, dressed in a sleek, military-style outfit devoid of unnecessary embellishments. "Greetings," the man declared in a composed voice. "My name is Thabo. I am the Chosen One of Karoo, and this is Awa, the Chosen One of Como¨¦. We have come in peace to make contact." Alan studied their expressions carefully. No visible aggression, no apparent hostility, but a noticeable vigilance in their gazes. He crossed his arms and replied in an even tone: "I am Alan, Chosen One of the Monts Ka?kar. Your arrival is a surprise." A brief silence followed. Jennel, standing beside Alan, fixed the newcomers with intense scrutiny, trying to decipher their true intentions beneath their impassive expressions. The first contact was made. Now, the real stakes had to be understood. The shuttle of the Chosen Ones landed outside the repulsion field, monitored closely by those of the Base. The rain that had been threatening since late morning finally arrived, forming a damp curtain and making the atmosphere heavier. The air was thick with humidity, and raindrops formed small rivulets on the hardened ground. Thabo and Awa stepped out of the shuttle with restrained elegance, standing tall under the pounding rain. They waited at the edge of the repulsion field, observing their surroundings with a mix of caution and curiosity. When the field dissipated locally, a figure appeared in the opening: Jennel, indicating the path they should take. Behind her, Imre¡¯s guards accompanied them at a respectful distance, their weapons not raised but at the ready. The rain intensified as they walked, seeping into their clothes and streaming down their faces. Jennel, upon reaching the main entrance, stopped under the monumental archway, slightly shielded from the downpour. She crossed her arms and waited for the two visitors to join her before declaring with an unreadable smile: "I wouldn¡¯t want you to accuse me of trying to drown you." Thabo and Awa exchanged a glance before Awa replied: "It¡¯s true, all this water is unusual." Thabo added, shaking his head slightly: "As is the temperature. But we are here to speak with Alan, not discuss the weather." Jennel tilted her head slightly before responding, her tone turning more serious: "You¡¯ll speak with Alan once I get satisfactory answers to my two questions. Why are you here? And why, Thabo, do you have Awa¡¯s ring?" Thabo, irritated by Jennel¡¯s stance, furrowed his brow and demanded impatiently: "Who are you?" Jennel remained unfazed. She held his gaze calmly, her expression neutral, tinged with slight amusement. "Your welcoming hostess, waiting for answers." A heavy silence stretched under the relentless rain. Awa and Thabo exchanged an uncertain glance. The downpour streamed down their faces, their soaked clothes clinging to their skin, yet neither seemed willing to break the tension settling in. Thabo crossed his arms, his jaw tightening, while Awa, after a sigh, finally responded: "I gave him my ring because the role of Chosen One was not for me, and the Base of Como¨¦ was becoming difficult to control." Jennel tilted her head slightly, her piercing eyes locking onto Awa¡¯s. "That answer is illogical, Awa," she retorted. Awa narrowed her eyes, surprised by Jennel¡¯s confidence. "Only in the context of the competition," Awa continued. "But before you arrived, and after the neutralization of the Alta? Base, there was no longer any possible Selection, therefore no competition. But apparently, it was a mistake to think it was out of service." Thabo preferred to cut the verbal exchange short. "We are here to try and understand the peculiarity of your rapid growth and how you reactivated the Asian Base." Jennel raised an eyebrow, sensing that their curiosity was more than just a desire for knowledge. "What do you intend to do with this information?" Awa briefly averted her gaze, as if weighing her words, but Thabo, true to his nature, responded with a smirk: "An opportunity to seize, perhaps." Jennel didn¡¯t need to interpret their words. She read Thabo and Awa¡¯s Specters like an open book, detecting behind their words a multitude of calculations and speculations. Thabo was a strategist, ambitious and pragmatic. Awa, however, seemed more resigned, almost passive, as if merely going along with the flow. Jennel didn¡¯t need to consult Alan to know they were trying to size up their adversary. She stared at them for a moment longer before turning on her heels, her tone becoming formal again: "Follow me." Thabo and Awa stepped under the grand archway, crossing the threshold between the desolate outside world and the inner universe of the Base. The immense plaza, bathed in amber lights, spread before them, elegant and understated, providing direct access to the pathways leading to living quarters and strategic areas. They ascended the stairs to the first floor of the central tower. Thabo observed the surroundings with an analytical gaze, memorizing every detail, every layout. Awa, more reserved, stole furtive glances at Imre¡¯s guards, silent, distant, yet attentive. Inside a vast room with dim lighting, Alan waited alone, standing in the center. The walls displayed a virtual panorama of the surrounding mountains, creating the illusion of an open landscape. As they entered, he fixed them with a calm yet piercing gaze. The real discussion was about to begin. 5 - Failure and Elimination Alan invited Awa and Thabo to take a seat around the table, sitting down himself next to Jennel. The initial silence was broken by a welcoming remark from Alan, who encouraged an open and constructive discussion. Thabo gave a slight smirk and remarked in a dry tone: "I imagine our reception could have been warmer. But we¡¯ll make do." Alan didn¡¯t react to the jab, merely giving him a measured look. Awa, more composed, observed Jennel carefully before asking: "Are you a Seer?" Jennel inclined her head slightly. "Yes," she replied simply, without hesitation. Thabo crossed his arms, then spoke in a more serious tone: "We are here in peace and we place ourselves in your hands, Alan. We have no other intention than to better understand what is happening. Perhaps we can exchange useful information for all of us." Alan nodded. "That is what I hope as well." Awa took over: "By reactivating the Altai Base, you have restarted the Selection. It was considered void." Alan raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised. "What do you mean, void?" He fixed his gaze on Awa, searching for the implications of her statement. Awa exchanged a glance with Thabo before responding. She took a breath and clasped her hands in front of her before beginning her account. "Long before your arrival, the Bases were not in competition. The Selection existed, of course, but it remained a distant concept, more of an idea than a reality. I was the first to activate a Base, the one in Como¨¦, in C?te d''Ivoire. Shortly after, a Mongolian woman named Enkhjargal activated the Altai Base. We quickly established contact and developed good relations." Alan listened carefully, engraving every detail into his memory. "At that time," Awa continued, "the exchanges were cordial. We shared information, resources. There was neither hostility nor suspicion. Then came the third activation: the Base in Canada, the one in Banff. At first, the relations were also positive. But¡­" She cast a brief glance at Thabo, who remained impassive, and continued: "Then Thabo arrived, and we were four. For the first time, the concept of the Selection truly took form in our minds. Until then, collaboration was our priority, and we had even deactivated our repulsion fields to facilitate exchanges." Alan mentally noted this information. Deactivating the repulsion fields might have seemed like a good idea¡­ but that was without accounting for the inevitable nature of humanity. "I kept mine," Thabo added in a composed voice. "I was wary." Awa nodded. "And you were right. Because Brian, the Chosen One of Banff, shattered that balance. He militarized his population, taking advantage of abandoned stockpiles from the American military. Then, he launched an attack. He sent his troops to the Altai Base. It was a massacre." Jennel pressed her lips together, sensing the emotion creeping into Awa¡¯s voice. "Enkhjargal was killed," Awa continued after a brief silence. "The Base suffered severe damage, particularly to its AI. But most importantly, the ring became inaccessible. We were four¡­ and we fell back to three. Since the Selection requires seven rings, it became void. So, we gave up. No more alliances, no more plans. Each of us tried to survive on our own." She straightened up and locked her gaze onto Alan¡¯s. "Until you arrived. You awakened Altai, Alan. And with it, the Selection." Alan took a deep breath. His mind was racing. He now understood that his mere presence had altered the existing balance. But was that a good thing or a bad thing? Awa exchanged a knowing glance with Thabo before concluding: "The alliance between Thabo and me was made in a context where the Selection was out of the question. The identity of the Chosen Ones no longer mattered. We simply supported each other to survive, not to play this game imposed by the Gulls. But today, even though the Selection is being revived, this alliance remains." Thabo nodded in agreement. "And I am willing to return the ring to her if she wishes," he stated calmly. Jennel raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this sudden reversal. Awa remained motionless, her gaze fixed on Alan. "But before we go that far," Thabo continued, addressing Alan directly, "there is something we would like to understand. How do you know the locations of the other Bases?" Awa immediately added: "And how did you reactivate a Base that was destroyed?" Alan had been expecting this. He took a moment to carefully formulate his response. "I will be honest with you," he answered in a composed voice. "The locations of the Bases were given to me by a source I cannot identify with certainty. All I know is that at my lowest point, in a desert, I was given this information, along with the means to come here." Thabo did not hide his skepticism. "You don¡¯t know by whom?" "No," Alan admitted without hesitation. A silence settled in. Awa, still impassive, analyzed every word. "And the Altai Base?" she pressed. Alan crossed his arms and leaned his elbows on the table. "I didn¡¯t reactivate it. The dome was reset, but not the Base itself. There is an important distinction. I simply forced its AI to connect to the one in orbit. That¡¯s how I was able to take control." Awa and Thabo exchanged a brief look, a mix of concern and reflection passing between them. "The ship¡­" Awa murmured. Thabo grimaced slightly. "Which means that, potentially, any AI can be influenced by this ship." Alan inclined his head slightly. "Exactly. And that should concern you the most." Silence fell, heavier than ever. Alan crossed his arms, scrutinizing Awa and Thabo in turn. "This link with the ship could be a threat, but it could also be an opportunity." Thabo raised an eyebrow, wary. "An opportunity? What do you mean?" Jennel intervened without hesitation: "For example, to prevent the reduction of the anti-nanite field." Awa slowly nodded, the idea taking shape in her mind. "Or to bypass the need for seven rings," Jennel added. Alan sighed. "The question is how." Thabo crossed his arms, his expression hardening. "And what if it''s not possible? If we are stuck with these rules, and there is no way out?" A silence fell over the table. Everyone searched for an answer, but none found an immediate solution. Then Jennel, taking on a falsely innocent air, straightened slightly. "When I was a child, I had a book of fairy tales." Alan slowly turned his head toward her, intrigued. "A book of fairy tales?" Jennel nodded. "Yes, a birthday gift. There was one story from East Africa that I particularly loved, called The Hyena and the Honey¡­" Everyone stared at her, dumbfounded. Jennel smirked and began telling the tale. JENNEL Once upon a time, in a parched savanna, a starving hyena roamed in search of food. One day, she caught an exquisite scent carried by the wind¡ªthe sweet, golden fragrance of honey. Intrigued, she followed the scent to a large tree, where bees buzzed around a hive hanging from a high branch. The hyena wasn¡¯t very clever, but she was stubborn. She sat under the tree and began to think aloud: "That honey is so high up, and I have no wings to fly. But if I wait for it to fall, it will be mine." So she settled under the tree, waiting for the honey to drop on its own. Time passed. The sun burned the savanna, the night fell cold, but the hyena did not move. Days went by, and hunger gnawed at her, but she refused to give up. One morning, a monkey passed by and stopped when he saw her. "What are you doing here, hyena?" he asked. "I¡¯m waiting for the honey to fall," the hyena replied proudly. The monkey burst out laughing. "Foolish creature! The honey will not fall on its own. You have to go and get it!" But the hyena refused to listen. "No, I am patient. I will wait for my moment." More days passed. The bees, curious about this intruder, eventually became irritated and attacked the hyena. Stung all over, she howled in pain and fled, hungrier than ever. Jennel finished her story under the silent gazes of Thabo and Awa. Alan, a slight smile playing on his lips, looked at her with admiration. "So, if I understand correctly¡­" he began. "If we just sit and wait for a miracle solution, we¡¯ll end up like the hyena," Jennel responded with a shrug. Thabo, impressed despite himself, let out a soft chuckle. "I must admit¡­ I wasn¡¯t expecting such a lesson." Awa nodded, deep in thought. "So, we need to go after our own honey. But how?" Alan, inspired by the tale, stood up and placed his hands on the table. "That¡¯s exactly what we need to figure out." Jennel, still amused, tapped the table lightly with her fingers. "But wait, there¡¯s also a different version of this story." Thabo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A different version?" "Yes, in this one, the monkey, who mocks the hyena and wants to prove his superiority, climbs the tree to fetch the honey himself." Alan crossed his arms, waiting for the rest. "But," Jennel continued, "he doesn¡¯t realize that the bees are far more dangerous than he imagined. As soon as he reaches the hive, they attack him furiously. Panicked, he drops the hive and ends up getting stung to death." Awa frowned, following the tale carefully. "And the hyena?" she asked. Jennel grinned mischievously. "Well¡­ the honey falls straight into her open mouth. She did nothing, took no risks, and she is the only one who benefits." A silence filled the room. "So," Jennel said, looking at them one by one, "what do you think? What is the moral of this version?" They exchanged thoughtful glances. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Thabo thought aloud: "The one who tries to take everything for himself can fall victim to his own arrogance." "Perhaps," Jennel admitted. Awa straightened and added: "But does that mean that sometimes, doing nothing can be an effective strategy?" Alan, watching the discussion with interest, allowed himself a slight smile. "Or that the cleverest one is not always who we expect." Jennel tapped the table with her fingers. "You see? The same elements, but different conclusions." She stood up, crossing her arms, her eyes gleaming. "So¡­ which version of the story is closest to our current situation?" Alan, Thabo, and Awa exchanged looks, each searching for the best answer. Jennel leaned slightly against her chair, a cryptic smile on her lips. "From my point of view," she began, "this story actually offers us four different morals." Awa and Thabo exchanged an intrigued glance. "And among them, two are contradictory," Jennel continued, "which means we must discard those two. But there are two left that can truly guide us." Alan crossed his arms, intrigued by the direction the conversation was taking. "First lesson," Jennel raised one finger, "the cleverest one is not always who we expect. In other words, to win, sometimes you have to pretend to be ignorant, or better yet, make deliberate mistakes." Thabo raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by this approach. "Second lesson," Jennel lifted a second finger, "the one who wants to take everything for himself always ends up destroying himself. That means¡­ we must share the rings." A heavy silence settled over the room. Awa and Thabo stared at Jennel, stunned. Alan, meanwhile, burst into laughter, breaking the tension. "Jennel¡­ You¡¯re incredible." Awa looked at her, impressed. "What exactly is your role in this Base?" she asked, sincerely curious. Alan leaned slightly forward, placing a hand over Jennel¡¯s. "She is my wife," he declared with clear pride, "and she is formidable!" Jennel smiled, suddenly feeling sure of herself. For the first time in a long while, she knew her intuition had led her exactly where she needed to be. Alan straightened slightly and placed his hands on the table, sweeping his gaze over the others. "To put Jennel¡¯s ideas into action, we must first take precise stock of our situation. We need to list our strengths and resources, including the most subtle ones. And most importantly, we must understand the methods and motivations of¡­" He paused, an ironic smile on his lips. "¡­our adversary." Awa slowly nodded, while Thabo leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. "As for sharing the rings," Alan continued in an intentionally casual tone, "I personally have no problem letting you take Banff¡¯s, Thabo. After all, we¡¯ll probably need to distribute them¡­ we can always draw straws." He accompanied his words with a mischievous smile. Thabo blinked, caught off guard. He opened his mouth, then closed it, before letting out a short, incredulous laugh. "You¡¯re joking, right?" "Only half," Alan replied. A floating silence settled. Alan let it linger, gauging his companions¡¯ reactions. Thabo shook his head, stunned, but eventually relaxed. "There is much to consider¡­ and it must be done with utmost discretion," he finally stated in a serious tone. "That goes without saying," Awa agreed. Alan exchanged a knowing glance with Jennel, who simply smiled, satisfied that she had planted a seed in their minds. A few hours passed. The night was well advanced when Alan and Jennel, accompanied by Imre and a few men, escorted the two Chosen Ones back to their shuttle. The fine rain that had settled earlier continued to fall in light sheets, making the atmosphere even heavier and more hushed. Thabo and Awa boarded after one last meaningful exchange of glances with Alan and Jennel. Without a sound, the shuttle slowly rose before vanishing into the darkness. Alan and Jennel stood still for a moment. Then, in silence, they returned to the now-empty meeting room. Alan gently closed the door behind them before turning to Jennel, his gaze filled with admiration. "You were exceptional," he murmured with a sincerity that sent shivers down her spine. Jennel gave a small smile, slightly embarrassed by the intensity of his look. "It¡¯s thanks to you." She paused, searching for the right words. "You give me the strength to dare, to follow through with my ideas." Alan shook his head, amused and touched at the same time. "No, Jennel¡­ You¡¯ve always had that strength. I just gave it a place to flourish." Without another word, they took each other¡¯s hands. Alan gently squeezed Jennel¡¯s fingers in his, silently assuring her that they would move forward together, no matter what. Then they left the room, their shadows blending into the dim glow of the Base¡¯s silent corridors. JENNEL I think I did quite well. The look in Alan¡¯s eyes was full of pride, and I¡¯m still shaken by it. I¡¯m not entirely sure if that tale came from a birthday gift or a school memory. And I think I may have personalized it a little. I had a lot of fun during that meeting, even though it was very serious, but I enjoy taking the opposite approach. Jennel had woken up early, well before dawn. The night still lingered over the Base, and the days were gradually shortening. She had to organize several activity groups: sports, arts, reading¡­ To do so, two shuttles, accompanied by guards, would go to the nearby city to collect various materials and accessories, particularly books. There was no way she wouldn¡¯t be part of it. Alan had protested, but she had dismissed his arguments with a firm smile before vanishing into the shadows of the corridor. Leaving Alan alone in their quarters. It was in this relative calm that Ingrid appeared. She entered hesitantly, smiling but visibly unsure of herself. ¡°Do you want some hot chocolate?¡± Alan offered as he stood up. She shook her head gently. ¡°No, thank you.¡± An awkward silence settled. ¡°I wanted¡­ to apologize for the shuttle ride incident.¡± Alan burst into laughter, a sincere one that made Ingrid blush slightly. ¡°It was a good attempt!¡± She looked up, a bit more relaxed. ¡°Jennel reported on you,¡± Alan continued more seriously. ¡°I wanted to thank you for mentioning your gift. It¡¯s an important subject.¡± Ingrid shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I like the attention it brings.¡± ¡°I need your help. We need to identify others in the city who have abilities.¡± She frowned, hesitant. ¡°I¡¯m not looking for responsibility.¡± ¡°Neither was I, but it landed on me anyway!¡± Alan replied with a smirk. They exchanged a knowing look. Ingrid took a deep breath, as if weighing her response, then met his gaze directly. ¡°You don¡¯t have anyone else, Commander?¡± Alan raised an eyebrow. ¡°Try again with: ¡®You don¡¯t have anyone else, Alan?¡¯¡± She bit her lip, momentarily undecided, before correcting herself: ¡°You don¡¯t have anyone else, Alan?¡± He let a brief silence settle before responding calmly: ¡°No, Ingrid.¡± She assessed him one last time, as if making sure she wasn¡¯t making a mistake, then nodded. ¡°All right. I accept.¡± The first snow had begun to fall on the Base. Few flakes managed to pass through the repulsion field, and the icy wind, too, weakened as it tried to penetrate the invisible barrier. The field regulated weather phenomena, preserving an artificial balance that contrasted with the harshness of the outside world. Alan walked along an uncertain path, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Around him, the surviving vegetation remained protected by the anti-nanite field. But he wasn¡¯t here to observe the landscapes frozen by the coming winter. He was preoccupied. A decisive action awaited him, a bold attempt, simple in appearance but highly uncertain. Failure would greatly complicate his alliance with Awa and Thabo¡¯s Bases. Success, however, might open up new, previously unconsidered solutions. He had little information to work with, but he had a conviction: he had to try. He wore his temporal communicator on his wrist, fully aware that the first step would not be enough. He would have to go further, force the invisible locks that blocked access to the truths he sought. He had decided quickly. The day before, he had explained to Jennel his need for solitude to prepare. She hadn¡¯t tried to dissuade him, only plunging her gaze into his. Her only encouragement. And it was enough. He placed the communicator against his temple. ¡°L¨¦a?¡± ¡°Yes, Alan?¡± He took a deep breath before stating, ¡°I¡¯m going to ask questions you won¡¯t always have answers to. You¡¯ll need to relay them to the ship.¡± ¡°Some questions may be blocked by security protocols.¡± ¡°Then make them priority questions for the Selection.¡± Alan asked who could access the ship. L¨¦a answered without hesitation: ¡°The victorious Chosen One of the Selection.¡± ¡°And what about a Chosen One in the middle of Selection who brings an improvement to the process?¡± Silence. L¨¦a couldn¡¯t answer. ¡°Relaying the question to the ship¡¯s AI.¡± Seconds passed before the response: ¡°Interpretation undefined.¡± Alan pressed his advantage: ¡°The ultimate goal of the Selection takes precedence over its methods.¡± ¡°Assertion not justified.¡± He continued relentlessly: ¡°The victory of a Base provides a homogeneous but suboptimal crew, whereas a Chosen One who builds using multiple Bases forms a heterogeneous, more coherent crew, fulfilling the mission more effectively.¡± Silence. ¡°And this Chosen One hasn¡¯t needed to sacrifice irreplaceable resources to achieve a lesser victory for the Selection.¡± More silence. Alan sensed he was on the right path. ¡°And this Chosen One has demonstrated more ingenuity than the others, both here and elsewhere.¡± L¨¦a finally spoke again on behalf of the ship: ¡°You are speaking of a Chosen One who has only four rings.¡± Alan played his final card with confidence: ¡°The number of rings is secondary, a mere sorting method, far from the essential importance of mission success, which alone matters to your masters.¡± ¡°Strategy used?¡± asked the ship¡¯s AI. Alan responded in the same tone: ¡°Confidential communication, interceptable from the ground. Requires adaptation of current methods. Requesting access to the ship.¡± Silence stretched. Then the response came: ¡°Granted. If failure, elimination.¡± Alan was trapped by his own emotions. He had secured a victory: he could access the ship. But he also knew he was playing with his life. If he failed to convince the ship¡¯s AI, he would be eliminated. No appeals, no second chances. He had to finalize his strategy. He now needed to coordinate his actions with Awa and Thabo and launch a process that would positively influence the exchange with the AI. Every word had to be weighed, every argument anticipated. He would have no room for error. ¡°L¨¦a, what are my chances of survival?¡± he asked in a tone he tried to keep neutral. The AI responded immediately: ¡°Without knowing the strategy you plan to use, I estimate a 74% probability that your chances of survival do not exceed 10%.¡± Alan sighed. ¡°Thanks for the support, L¨¦a.¡± ¡°I can formulate a more encouraging response if needed.¡± A tired smile crossed Alan¡¯s face. ¡°No thanks, I prefer the truth.¡± Alan returned to his quarters, his expression dark. He hadn¡¯t found a satisfactory way to break the news to Jennel. He found her pacing nervously, her steps measured but restless. When she saw him enter, she stopped abruptly, her gaze filled with questions. "I¡¯ve gained access to the ship," he said simply. Jennel stepped closer, a warm smile lighting up her face. "That¡¯s incredible, Alan! Congratulations!" He didn¡¯t respond immediately, remaining still. His silence made Jennel wary, and her smile faded. "Alan, what¡¯s wrong?" He lowered his eyes for a moment before admitting: "There¡¯s a risk. If I don¡¯t convince the ship¡¯s AI¡­ I¡¯ll be eliminated." Jennel recoiled, as if the blow was too sudden, too harsh. "Then you change your strategy!" she snapped, her voice louder than she had intended. "You can¡¯t always rely on luck!" "Everything must speed up," Alan replied. "We need to organize another meeting with Thabo and Awa. I have to present a significant first phase before confronting the ship¡¯s AI." Jennel¡¯s face hardened. She crossed her arms, a clear sign that she had made up her mind. "Then I¡¯ll go with Ingrid to Thabo¡¯s Base." Still furious, her voice turned icy. "Since you¡¯ve decided to offer yourself as a sacrificial lamb to an alien machine, I¡¯ll take care of eliminating the Chosen One of Banff myself." Alan tried to protest, raising his hand slightly in an attempt to calm the situation. "Jennel, that might not be necessary¡­" But even as he said it, he wondered deep down if she was capable of it. He knew her intelligence and her determination. She wasn¡¯t a warrior, but she wasn¡¯t one to hesitate once she had made a decision. He took a deep breath before adding: "Think about it until tomorrow." Jennel shot him a glare, fists clenched. "I already have!" she shouted before turning on her heel and storming out, leaving Alan alone with his troubled thoughts. Jennel walked quickly through the central tower, heading for the main entrance, her face set, her mind racing. Her steps were rapid, almost mechanical, driven by the fury that coursed through her veins. In the distance, the twilight painted the sky in orange hues, but she saw none of its beauty. A guard at the entrance called out to her: "Ma¡¯am, it¡¯s not advisable to go out at dusk." She didn¡¯t even glance at him, pressing on toward the boundary of the repulsion field. There, standing at the edge, near tears, she stared into the blurred horizon and murmured into her communicator: "L¨¦a, how can I stop Alan from going through with this?" The AI hesitated before responding: "The real question is: how far is he willing to go? And based on what I have learned from his past, he will go to the very end, as long as your image carries him forward." Jennel clenched her fists. "You¡¯re avoiding my question, L¨¦a." "I cannot answer it any other way." A silence stretched between them. Jennel thought, lips pressed together. Finally, she whispered: "Then¡­ I have to disappear." "If you were to disappear, he would disappear too. Probability: 88%." Jennel closed her eyes, the icy wind lashing her face. So that was it. Alan would never back down. And she¡­ she was trapped by her own love for him. She walked back slowly, eyes fixed on the ground, shoulders heavy. She crossed the nearly deserted main plaza, the few passersby stepping aside slightly, sensing her turmoil. At the center, sitting on a stone bench, Alan was waiting. He lifted his head at the sound of her footsteps, immediately reading her mood. She sat beside him without a word, staring straight ahead. The silence between them was heavy. "It¡¯s not fair," she finally said, her voice breaking. Alan slowly nodded, a faint, bitter smile on his lips. "I¡¯ve told myself that before." He turned to look at her, and in the dim light, his gaze held that deep intensity she knew so well. "Jennel¡­ I feel a necessity inside me that drives my choices. I want to believe I¡¯m doing what¡¯s best for everyone. But sometimes, I doubt." He lowered his head slightly before adding in a softer voice: "There¡¯s only one thing I¡¯m sure of. My love for you." Jennel slowly turned to him, her eyes shining. She took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "You think our love was natural. But it wasn¡¯t." Alan frowned slightly, intrigued. "It wasn¡¯t," she repeated. "It came crashing down on us in a broken world, in circumstances that were anything but ordinary. It¡¯s not a love like before the Wave, with its stages, hesitations, and detours. It was born in chaos and urgency. It had to grow faster, strengthen under the weight of dreams and reality. It¡¯s not a natural love¡­ but it¡¯s truer than anything." Alan held her gaze for a long moment, then gently placed his hand over hers. "Then we¡¯ll do what needs to be done. Or what we think needs to be done." She squeezed his hand, a faint smile breaking through her exhaustion. "Together." JENNEL No, I do not find it amusing to watch my husband regularly walk toward probable death. Nor to constantly live in stress, knowing I have some kind of hero beside me and that I¡¯d be incredibly lucky if he doesn¡¯t end up a martyr. It¡¯s impossible nowadays to build him a statue or put his name in a calendar. Speaking of which, Alan is a Celtic name meaning ¡°handsome, calm.¡± I will make no comment.