Thriexa’s POV

  The grand chamber of the United Nations hummed with tension, voices murmuring in dozens of different languages. Delegates from around the world filled the seats before me, their expressions ranging from cautious curiosity to outright distrust. This was it—the moment the world would decide the fate of the Eova on Earth.

  I stood at the center of it all, seated at a curved table beside the American President. To my left, a Topzell representative, Yorin, had traveled here to assist with translations. Their presence was invaluable. With their ability to assimilate languages instantly, they effortlessly translated every spoken word, their voice a steady and unshaken bridge between nations. They listened to a rapid exchange in French, then turned to me and repeated it in perfect English. Moments later, they seamlessly shifted into Mandarin, then Arabic. Even Jace, standing behind me, watched in astonishment as Yorin kept up with the relentless flow of conversation.

  But I was not here just to listen. I was here to understand.

  I let my abilities stretch outward, feeling the currents of intent that wove through the room. Some leaders truly sought cooperation, eager to understand and build a peaceful relationship with the Eova. Others, however, harbored deep fear—not of what we had done, but of what we could do.

  “The existence of the Eova poses an unprecedented question for humanity,” a European delegate spoke, his voice calm but firm. “We have before us an opportunity unlike any we have encountered in history. A species with knowledge and technology beyond our own. We should not be discussing deportation—we should be discussing collaboration. A coalition between our worlds.”

  “And yet,” a Russian representative countered, leaning forward with sharp scrutiny, “we are expected to trust them when they have abilities that defy our understanding. We cannot afford naivety. Their knowledge is valuable, but so is caution. We must ensure we are not being manipulated.” His gaze flicked toward me, and I felt the weight of his words settle in the room.

  Another representative spoke up, this time an American senator. “The question is not whether they mean us harm now, but whether they could in the future. What happens if we accept them with open arms, only for them to turn against us later? We must have safeguards in place—contingencies.”

  I exhaled slowly. The skepticism was expected, but I would not let it dictate our fate.

  I turned my gaze across the chamber, letting my voice carry through the space. “I understand your concerns. I have heard them before—on other worlds, with other leaders. Fear is not unfamiliar to me, nor is caution unwarranted. But I will remind you—our people do not conquer. We do not force. We do not take. We have come here in good faith, and despite the uncertainties, we remain open to cooperation.”

  I let the silence linger for a moment before continuing, my words deliberate. “If we had come as a threat, you would have already known. If we had come to manipulate, there would be no debate. We seek only a place among you, and a future where our people do not have to hide in the shadows of history.”

  The murmurs in the room shifted—some skeptical, some contemplative.

  Yorin leaned closer, whispering in my ear, “They are divided. Some will fight for us. Others will resist no matter what we say.”

  I nodded slightly. I had already felt that truth pressing against me. This meeting would not end with unanimous agreement. But it did not need to. It only needed to move us forward.

  I reached out subtly with my telepathy, brushing against Jace’s mind. I need your help.

  I felt his surprise before his thoughts sharpened. What do you need?

  Human customs. I know their leaders make decisions, but there are so many voices here. Some demand authority, others speak only to be heard. How do they decide?

  I felt him hesitate, then his response came carefully. Politics isn’t about who’s right, it’s about who has the most influence. They argue, they debate, and eventually, enough people agree on something to make it happen. But even then, there will always be those who oppose it.

  I absorbed his words, but before I could respond, the President cleared his throat, his tone measured. “It is clear that this discussion will not be resolved in a single meeting. But the world must decide—will we work together, or will we allow fear to dictate our path?”

  He paused, scanning the room before continuing. “I have seen the memories the Eova have shared with me. I have seen what their people have endured, what they have built, what they have lost. They do not come here with demands or ultimatums. They come seeking a future, just as we have sought new frontiers in our past. I choose to believe that the best path forward is one of understanding.”

  The murmurs in the room shifted—some skeptical, some contemplative. The weight of his words settled over the chamber. He had defended us, but the battle was not over yet.

  I straightened my posture, ready for whatever came next. The decision was no longer mine. It belonged to them. “We ask a lot of them, but let’s not forget—we’re asking a lot of ourselves too. Fear makes sense, but fear alone can’t be the reason we push them away. You don’t have to trust them all at once. But at least try.”

  I turned toward him, meeting his eyes briefly. He understood. He had struggled too, but he had chosen to believe in what we were offering.

  I straightened my posture, ready for whatever came next. The decision was no longer mine. It belonged to them.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  I remained silent, allowing the diplomats to speak amongst themselves, their voices rising and falling in a symphony of debate. I had learned that humans valued discussion, even when it led to disagreement, but I also knew that words alone would not show me their true intentions.

  So I reached outward, my abilities stretching into the room, weaving through the emotions that filled the air like a current beneath the surface. I felt the weight of genuine curiosity from some, cautious but willing to listen. Others were more resistant, their fear solid, unwavering—a wall built before they had ever heard me speak. And then there were those who sought something more: leverage, control, a way to turn this into an advantage for themselves.

  I needed clarity. I reached out subtly with my telepathy, brushing against Jace’s mind. I need your help.

  His response was immediate, sharp with concern. What is it?

  Some of these leaders have already decided their stance before this meeting began. I can feel their resistance, but I do not recognize which nations they belong to. Help me identify them.

  Jace hesitated only briefly before his thoughts focused. Russia will never trust you—they’ll push for restrictions, oversight, maybe even relocation.

  The Middle Eastern nations are hesitant, he continued, but for them, it’s more about cultural and religious concerns than outright hostility. They’re cautious, but not necessarily against you.

  China is holding back, waiting to see which way the majority leans before committing to anything. They’ll follow strength, not sentiment. The same goes for some South American countries—they’re weighing their options, not taking sides yet.

  And the American senator that spoke earlier? Jace’s thoughts sharpened. He’s not entirely against you, but he’s playing politics. He wants leverage, something tangible to show his people that accepting the Eova benefits them more than it risks.

  I absorbed his words, aligning them with the intentions I sensed. He was right. Many of these leaders were not debating in good faith—they were positioning themselves for the best outcome for their own interests, regardless of truth.

  I took a slow breath. At least now, I know where to place my efforts.

  Thank you, I told him, letting the words linger in his mind before pulling away. I was impressed. He had gathered much of the same insights that I had, and yet he had no abilities—only experience and observation.

  I had always known Jace was perceptive, but this was different. He was not a politician, nor was he trained in diplomacy, yet he had read the room as clearly as I had. His experience as an interrogator had sharpened his ability to assess people, to decipher their motives, and to see through the posturing that clouded their true intentions.

  He had done what I had done—but without abilities, without any advantage beyond his instincts and years of training.

  It made me respect him more than I already did.

  Jace’s POV

  The meeting had stretched long into the day, the air growing heavy with deliberation and careful maneuvering. It had become clear that there would be no unanimous agreement—too many minds had already been made up before Thriexa had even spoken. But despite the fear, despite the hesitation, there was progress.

  The final decision was made. The United Nations had agreed to work with the Eova. Not all nations, not without conditions, but enough to change the course of history.

  The terms were simple but firm: The Eova would be granted diplomatic recognition, allowed to remain on Earth, and work toward peaceful integration. In exchange, they would provide medical advancements and scientific knowledge—carefully, selectively. Nations that had openly opposed them would not participate, choosing instead to watch from a distance, waiting for the moment something went wrong.

  I scanned the room as the announcement was made. Some delegates nodded in approval, others remained stone-faced, their minds already calculating their next move. It wasn’t over. It never would be. Politics wasn’t about truth; it was about positioning—who had the most to gain, who had the most to lose. And some of these leaders were just waiting for a reason to turn public opinion against the Eova.

  I felt a subtle pull at the edge of my thoughts.

  Jace.

  I straightened slightly, my eyes flicking to Thriexa across the chamber. I answered her telepathically. I hear you.

  We are being given a chance, but it is fragile. Her voice was calm, but I could feel the weight beneath it. There are still many who do not trust us. I need to know what happens next.

  I exhaled slowly. The next step will be meetings, agreements, political maneuvering. Those who accepted you today will start drafting terms, limitations. The nations that refused will wait, watching for any reason to justify their fears.

  She was silent for a moment. This is only the beginning.

  I glanced at her again, at the unwavering resolve in her violet eyes. Yeah, I admitted. It is.

  The tension from the meeting hadn’t fully left my body as I stepped into the safehouse. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen politicians talk in circles, but today had been different. Today had determined the future of an entire species, and the weight of that still sat heavy on my shoulders.

  Thriexa was already inside, standing near the large table where Trenal, Tocci, and Sam were waiting. Their eyes flicked toward us as we entered, each of them carrying their own anticipation for the news.

  “It’s done,” I said, leaning against the nearest chair. “The UN has agreed to work with the Eova. Not all of them, but enough.”

  Trenal crossed his arms, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. “And the others?”

  Thriexa exhaled. “Some refused outright. Others will bide their time, waiting for an excuse to turn against us. But for now, we have secured a place here.”

  Tocci let out a breath, her relief evident. “That’s more than I expected.”

  Sam leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “What’s next? What’s their price for this so-called trust?”

  “Medical advancements. Technology,” I answered. “The details will take weeks, maybe months, to negotiate, but that was the deal. They want something in return.”

  Trenal nodded once, then turned away, closing his eyes for a moment before speaking in a quiet but firm voice. “Aizih Xilta must know of this immediately.”

  There was no hesitation as he reached out telepathically to their leader. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but I could feel the weight of the exchange in the room. It wasn’t just a report—it was a moment that would shift the future of their people.

  As Trenal spoke with Xilta, I glanced at Thriexa. Her posture was composed, but I had spent enough time with her to recognize the strain beneath the surface. This had been a battle, and there were many more to come.

  Thriexa’s voice brushed against my mind once more. Are you okay?

  I turned my head slightly, meeting her gaze. I should be asking you that. I don’t have an entire species relying on me.

  No, she admitted, but you carry more of this than you realize.

  The connection lingered for a moment before she pulled away, returning her attention to the others. I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck.

  The world had taken its first step toward accepting the Eova, but there were still many who wanted to see them fail.

  And I had no doubt that the real fight was just beginning.