INTERLUDE; Dario

The hum of auto-cars outside pierced the stillness of Dario's morning reverie, their mechanical drone rising and falling like an urban symphony. His hovering bed glided noiselessly toward the closet, its soft hum blending seamlessly with the distant noise of the city. He stretched languidly, but a wave of weariness clung to him, a stubborn echo of the late-night meeting that had drained him.

Beyond the floor-to-ceiling window of his 55th-floor apartment, the metropolis sprawled beneath the pale morning sun. It was a city that never truly slept, a bustling hive of glittering towers and winding gravity lanes. Below, a traffic jam had formed around a malfunctioning gravity car, disrupting the otherwise fluid dance of vehicles. Dario's eyes narrowed as he recognized the unmistakable signs of an illegal hover-car attempting to evade the authorities.

The Graviter, he mused. His invention.

A hint of pride flickered in his chest, though it was tempered by a familiar sense of frustration. The Graviter's precision had left the criminals with no hope of escape, locking down every mechanical function of their vehicle. Yet, in their desperation, they had abandoned the hover-car and fled toward the gravity elevators on foot. Futile, of course. His system ensured that even the sleekest getaway plans fell apart. Still, watching the chaos below, Dario couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the man he had once been—a man driven not by politics or ambition, but by curiosity and a desire to create.

He adjusted the cufflinks of his tailored gray suit, his sharp reflection caught briefly in the windowpane. The rhythmic clatter of police drones taking the criminals into custody echoed faintly from below. His lips pressed into a thin line as he turned away. Once, he had dreamed of being a scientist—a pure one, untainted by politics or greed, exploring the mysteries of the universe. But that dream had faded, replaced by the allure of influence and power.

At thirty-five, Dario had achieved more than most could dream of. His invention, the Graviter, had made him wealthy beyond measure, cementing his place as a pioneer in engineering. But wealth was a poor substitute for purpose, and when his efforts to enact meaningful change faltered against the immovable bureaucracy of the scientific community, he had turned to politics. Now, as vice president of Bisector 3-1, he had influence but little satisfaction. The political landscape was a battlefield of self-interest and mistrust, its labyrinthine layers making genuine progress nearly impossible.

He grabbed his briefcase, its smooth carbon-fiber surface cool under his fingertips, and moved toward the exit. The keycard in his hand buzzed faintly as the scanner read his handprint and barcode, the door sliding open with a soft hiss. As he stepped into the corridor, his two personal guards were already waiting, their presence a reminder of the risks inherent in even his relatively low-tier position. Politics was a game of alliances and enmities, and one wrong step could make anyone a target.

Outside, his auto-car waited. Its sleek design belied its practicality, built for speed and discretion rather than ostentation. Yet the passenger seat was already occupied.

"Well, well," Kessen drawled, his voice laced with mock amusement. "Attending two meetings within twelve hours? That doesn't sound like the Dario I know."

Dario slid into the seat, ignoring the playful jab. "The world keeps spinning, Kessen. No time for sleep."

Kessen's eyebrows arched as he gave Dario an appraising glance. "You look tired."

"And I absolutely am," Dario admitted, his tone flat. "Yesterday's meeting nearly made me want to blow my brains out."

Kessen chuckled softly, taking a sip from the travel mug he always carried. Steam curled lazily into the confined space of the auto-car. "Must feel good," he said suddenly.

"What does?" Dario asked, frowning slightly.

"The Graviter," Kessen replied. "I saw it in action again this morning while I was waiting for you."

Dario relaxed, nodding. "Yes. It works as intended, I suppose."

The auto-car began to move, the hum of its hover-wheels blending with the distant din of the city. The morning traffic was heavy, and the journey to the summit building would take at least an hour. Dario settled in, glancing briefly at Kessen. While his company wasn't unpleasant, the presence of a Public Communicator meant there would be no discussing the upcoming meeting.

Public Communicators were a standard fixture in every politician's life—a reminder that secrecy no longer had a place in governance. Their role was twofold: to report back to the public any notable occurrences in private meetings and to block unmonitored communication between political parties. Kessen, ever professional, served as both watchdog and wall. Dario appreciated his competence but knew better than to mistake it for loyalty.

Kessen poured more tea from his portable kettle, the fragrant steam filling the cabin. "Care for some?" he offered, holding the mug toward Dario.

"Always," Dario replied, holding out his own cup. The warmth of the tea was welcome, even as his mind remained preoccupied.

"Practical as always," Kessen quipped. "Or have you finally turned this car into your office?"

"This car," Dario said dryly, "is still bigger than your office."

Kessen laughed, but Dario barely noticed. His gaze drifted to the sprawling summit building ahead, its 120 floors glittering in the sunlight. The sigils of planetary organizations adorned its facade, each representing a member of the Federation of Light—commonly known as the Council of Twelve. Among them, one stood out: the sigil of the Greys.

Their visit has been long awaited on earth. The auto-car was slowly getting out of traffic, blue and red cars raced by as they were leaving the gravity road behind them. The hover wheels almost touched gravity platform of the building as it was landing upon it. The platform turned and spun for a moment, allowing access to the 20th floor. His driver was there within a moment's notice to open the door for Dario and Kessen, who walked brazenly to the entrance and within the well-lighted elevator.

 Few moments later Dario was walking on towards the main hall on floor 97, where many groups of people that was deep in conversations all around. Elegance was the word of the day, even the Sirius group was on top the dress code.

The room was decorated with the latest, mirrors from Pleidians, spreading colors all around with their unique science behind it; Dario never understood how it was possible but human scientific knowledge was eons behind from some of their allies on the council of twelve. He noticed Leren before anyone else did, as he moved to the center of the hall, dipped his hand in his suit pocket and took out a small device, which he dropped to the ground like a seed.

The room exploded with light as a person's outline started forming on top of it. The small device called project 250 was created for the sole purpose of having a 3d sighting of a whole room, and so not an ounce of a movement would be missed. it can project a single person or an entire room and in this case it connected President Seren of sector 3 with the entire hall.

 The conversations ceased as they waited for the president to begin his speech. The shape of President slowly formed. Seren looked around and tightened his tie.

 ''Ladies and gentlemen I welcome you for this special event celebrating 100 years on our venture into space and establishing communication with all the planetary systems, and engaging in diplomatic and cultural connection. We now stand among with all the new and ancient Nations of the cosmos. The earth has finally ascended, they have awaited and we answered with our presence. Fool yourselves not, this is not the end of the evolution of the human kind, just the beginning.'' He did a slight nod before cutting of the communication with the room.

 Even though his speech was short, Dario felt inspired to it, the president believed in the human race, he on the other hand did not felt so, and ideology might have changed but what about humans themselves. Someone would say this was but the first step, like the moon landing was. He didn't waste any more time and headed to the conference room along with the rest of the hall. 

 Dario's steps echoed through the hall, he was walking behind his co-workers, his mind wandered on the meeting, his arguments today will affect his career he was certain of that. The meetings were broadcasted worldwide and even on Mars were his family was currently stationed, the meeting's agenda was about the greys but no one expected him to be up to date, they would not bother with a vice president of a bi-sector. But he understood the greys very well so, the beings that haunted humanity for the last centuries.

 Today they would converse as equals; something that their predecessors couldn't claim it was possible. The president was only half right in his speech, they were not standing among them yet, but they will earn it. He would earn it.