Epilogue
PROBABLY EMMA
Three Weeks Later
He held the door for me as I entered the dimly lit room. My frown deepened at the sight of hundreds of hovering Nexuses, all projecting screen-like objects, welcoming me.
I approached the first one slowly, squinting at the images it displayed. As far as I could discern, a man with a familiar face, but unplaceable, was giving a long speech. Clearly human.
“You’re asking me to analyze a human political situation?” I frowned, but the answer never came.
Moving to the next Nexus, I found a similar image projected. As I turned, attempting to decipher the multitude of images, confusion set in. Each screen seemed to broadcast human news channels, featuring powerful figures delivering lengthy speeches.
Scanning the faces for someone recognizable, I noticed a channel in the center of the room carrying the distinctive voice of a man. “That’s the president of the United States?” I nodded, though the significance eluded me.
Catching his gaze, I found him staring at me in agony, his eyebrows drawn together, his strong jaw clenched so tight I was sure he would have trouble chewing the next day, his nostrils slightly flared and his breathing irregular, as if restraining an outburst.
My eyes roamed over his strong body, sensing its strength and its distress at the same time. His hands balled into fists and his muscles were taut.
“I don’t understand… The Great Exposure was almost a month ago, what am I watching exactly?” I whispered.
His voice, raspy and low, didn't falter as he replied, “A declaration of war.”