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Aidan spent the next stretch of days resting inside the Shatterdome base. Ever since the Planetary Warfare Council announced that humanity's immediate existential crisis had been resolved—and that no new monster attacks were expected for the time being—the suffocating, do-or-die tension that had gripped the world finally began to ease. The collective anxiety that had defined human society for months slowly thinned, leaving room for something people previously thought impossible: calm.
Under the direction of political leaders everywhere, nations were scrambling to repair and rebuild. Coastal cities had taken the worst of the devastation—whole districts reduced to twisted steel and washed-out ruins—but inland, the damage was mostly economic. And although the general public remained unaware of the ongoing negotiations with the Precursor civilization, nearly everyone in government circles knew what was happening behind the scenes. Fortunately, as time passed, the secrecy didn't cause panic or upheaval. People were too exhausted, too relieved, and too busy trying to piece their lives back together.
Meanwhile, Chairman Patrick Hemitdon, head of the Planetary Warfare Council, had been buried in nonstop work—drafting, refining, and restructuring the negotiation framework. Every country on Earth was waiting for him to give the signal for the Council to formally convene.
On February 15th, 2023, Hemitdon announced the start of an international summit in London, inviting official representatives from every nation. By February 20th, all delegates had arrived, and the conference officially began.
The main hall—a grand, marble-backed lobby with ornate pillars and a ceiling full of light—held a massive square table at its center. Sunlight poured through crystal-clear windows, casting bright geometric shadows across the polished floor. The atmosphere hummed with tension and possibility.
Once all the national delegates were seated, the final figure entered: Chairman Hemitdon himself. As he stepped onto the raised platform, the room erupted into warm applause. Eyes from every corner of the world turned to him with intense curiosity and a quiet hunger for opportunity. If today's negotiation framework was approved, humanity would finally gain access to the Precursors' advanced technology and vast resources. The only lingering regret was simple but unavoidable—the Anteverse was not suitable for human habitation.
But there was still a major issue to settle:
Would every country send its own representative to negotiate?
Or would humanity send a single appointed negotiator?
The difference would reshape global politics.
If each nation negotiated separately, then power and opportunity would skew dramatically. Wealthy, influential superpowers could claim the lion's share of valuable technologies and resources. Smaller nations—those without leverage, military strength, or negotiating power—would walk away with scraps.
But if humanity sent a single representative, resources could be distributed evenly and fairly. Of course… the great powers were far from enthusiastic about that idea.
So today's meeting would decide everything.
"...The representatives sent by the Precursor civilization have already arrived at the opposite side of Earth's wormhole," Hemitdon announced, lifting a sleek tablet. "Now, we must finalize our negotiation plan."
With a swipe, a holographic projection expanded in front of the delegates. Three options appeared in crisp blue light.
"Based on the proposals submitted by participating countries," he continued, "I have compiled and summarized them into three final negotiation plans. Please examine them carefully before casting your vote."
The three strategies displayed were as follows:
Plan One:
Acquire Precursor technology, accept compensation, then close the wormhole and end all contact.
(Highest safety… but highly likely to be rejected by the Precursors.)
Plan Two:
Acquire Precursor technology, then use the wormhole as a stable channel to maintain inter-civilization communication.
(Lower safety than Plan One.)
Plan Three:
Acquire Precursor technology, then dispatch human forces to assist the Precursors in combating the 'Toxin,' forming a full military and political alliance.
(Maximum resources… maximum risk.)
Representatives stared at the floating holograms, their reactions a kaleidoscope of caution, fear, greed, and strategic calculation. Plan One was dismissed almost immediately—nobody wanted to slam the door on an advanced civilization offering immeasurable benefits.
The debate centered on Plans Two and Three.
Countries with massive populations leaned heavily toward Plan Three—greater manpower meant greater influence. Smaller nations preferred Plan Two—they didn't have bodies to spare for off-world combat. But ultimately, despite the arguments, the inclinations of the global superpowers carried the most weight. Earth still needed Jaeger units, still needed a space fleet. Smaller nations simply didn't have the population base to compete… and many would inevitably face annexation as time went on.
The debate stretched for half a day.
Finally—voting concluded.
27 votes for Plan One.
73 votes for Plan Two.
82 votes for Plan Three.
11 abstentions.
Plan Three passed.
"...Thank you for your votes," Hemitdon said solemnly. "The third plan is now officially adopted."
He lifted his gaze across the hall.
"Now, we move to the next item: determining who will lead the negotiation."
"The Precursor representative is named Gabriel Leith Steven," Hemitdon continued. "He is their highest political authority—the Elder of their Council, and the leader of the Dove faction. Inter-civilization contact must be handled with utmost seriousness."
Immediately, another wave of debate erupted.
"I propose that the five permanent members of the UN Security Council handle the negotiations," the U.S. representative said bluntly. But his statement triggered immediate backlash.
"I propose," a woman in a headscarf countered, standing tall, "that humanity select a single representative. And that Mr. Gabriel Leith Steven negotiate with the Precursor representative on behalf of our species."
"Seconded!"
"Seconded!"
Voices rose from across the hall, quickly gaining momentum. The U.S. representative's expression soured as he glanced at the other permanent members, silently urging them to push back.
But in the end, voting determined the outcome:
Humanity would send one representative.
And that representative would be Mr. Gabriel Leith Steven.
After the decision, the news quickly became public. Something of this magnitude couldn't stay hidden. But thanks to weeks of careful guidance and stabilization efforts by world governments, the revelation did not cause chaos.
Instead, the world braced itself—
For humanity's first official dialogue with another civilization.