Page 6 of The Sovereign: Part One
Sivara smiled.“Congratulations, Senior Advisor Poeima.Your Veritas Protocol is now complete.Maxim will be prepared for activation.I’ve been advised to inform you that your scheduled address has been relocated from the rotunda to the Convocation Hall.”
After a brief, stunned pause, I nodded, stealing one last, long glance at Maxim before stepping away from the interface.His gaze remained fixed forward, just as before, making me wonder if I had only imagined the brief moment our eyes met.“Thank you, Sivara.”
“It has been an honor assisting you,” she replied.
The Convocation Hall?Every learning symposium I’d ever attended had been held in the rotunda.I couldn’t imagine why it had been moved—unless the audience had expanded.Maybe a few representatives of the Vanguard would be present?
Descending to the lower level, I steadied my breath.Sivara had mentioned my next stop so casually, as if I hadn’t just come face-to-face with the embodiment of everything I had ever wanted.I had expected excitement, maybe even relief.Instead, an emotional undertow threatened to pull me under, every step away from Maxim a slow agony.I ached to linger, to stay in the space where he existed, to bridge the impossible gap between knowing him in theory and knowing him in presence.I had touched him in dreams, shaped him in thought, but now that I’d seen him and he was days away from being real—tangible, inevitable—nothing else seemed to matter.The world beyond that room felt hollow, and the need to return to him eclipsed every other thought.
The heaviness of realization pressed against my ribs.I had spent years anticipating this moment, yet nothing had prepared me for the sheer force of it, for the way Maxim stepping out of an abstract certainty into my reality would restructure everything I thought I knew about longing.He was no longer a future I had meticulously designed.Even as I moved forward, away from him, my mind stayed tethered to that room, to the way the consecration of his existence had altered something fundamental inside me.He was no longer a concept.He was mine, but not only that—I was his.
I blinked as the Ascens sighed open, the exhale cool against my skin.As impossible as it seemed to push Maxim from my mind, there was no time to dwell, I had a speech to deliver.As I entered the Convocation Hall, something shifted.A murmur of anticipation rippled through the assembled crowd as I moved down the far aisle, and then up a narrow stairwell where I’d wait, stage right.
It only took a moment to understand why.
Constant Remus, Hyperion’s Director of Perception and Outreach, glanced at me from the podium, her signature forced enthusiasm barely masking her disapproval of my last-minute arrival before scanning the audience.Every strand of her copper-pink pixie cut styled to appear immovable, her pale skin contrasted with her cool green eyes, which held just enough edge to make every compliment feel like a veiled critique.“Esteemed colleagues and honored guests, it is my privilege to welcome Hyperion’s Chief Financial Officer, Minister of Hyperion Proper, and Forum Head, Artemis Jhendai.”
Applause greeted Artemis as she took the stage with self-assurance only decades of leadership could hone.At fifty-one, she was sharper than ever, her presence a masterclass in control.Her suit, a deep navy blue with an asymmetric cut, framed her lean figure, the high collar and structured shoulders adding to the undeniable influence she carried with ease.The crisp fabric caught the light just enough to suggest luxury without excess.Her dark hair, streaked with silver at the temples, was pulled into a sleek chignon, not a strand out of place, a reflection of the meticulous nature she was known for.Even the subtle gold accents on her cuffs and the delicate chain at her throat were a balance between tradition and innovation, much like the woman herself.
“We are on the precipice of a new era,” she stated.“The decisions we make today—about safety, about efficiency, about the very nature of human connection—will define generations to come.Hyperion was built on these principles, and today, we reaffirm them.We are the future.”
Artemis paused, ensuring her message resonated.“But a vision alone is not enough.Progress is purposeful.It is the result of careful design, relentless modification, and the unwavering commitment of those who understand that innovation without purpose is nothing more than noise.Hyperion has never followed trends, we set them.We do not wait for the future to arrive.We shape it, engineer it, and ensure it is one of prosperity, order, and security for all who call this city home.”
She turned, gesturing toward the wings of the stage.“No one embodies this philosophy more than the man who has guided Hyperion through decades of unprecedented advancement.Under his leadership, we have not only remained at the forefront of technological evolution, but we have redefined what it means to live in a world where progress and stability coexist in perfect harmony.From pioneering the next generation of AI integration to ensuring that Hyperion stands as a model of inclusion and security, his contributions have shaped the very foundation of our society.It is my great honor to introduce our CEO and Primarch of Hyperion Proper, Chiron Sorran.”
I barely had time to process the shock as Chiron himself took the stage.At seventy-two, he carried himself with unforced influence, his posture unwavering, his stature as imposing as it had been in his prime.He had once been taller, age had taken some of his height, but not his command over a room.Even now, he stood at well over six feet, broad-shouldered and still remarkably fit for a man his age.His silvered hair, neatly combed back, revealed a strong brow and a face carved by time but never softened by it.His sharp gaze cut across the room with precision, a reminder that nothing escaped his notice.His suit, midnight black with a perfectly tailored drape, accentuated his frame, the subtle sheen of the fabric betraying its exclusivity.He moved without hesitation, a man who had long ago mastered the art of expectation and execution.Even in silence, he held the room in his grip.
“Hyperion’s future has never been brighter,” he began, his voice steady.“Our city is a beacon of stability, a testament to what humanity can achieve when we work in harmony with the technology we’ve created.And yet, there’s more to be done.More innovation.More refinement.More progress toward a future where fear is a relic of the past.”
Chiron allowed a pause, his piercing eyes sweeping the audience, like Artemis, ensuring that every individual in the room absorbed the gravity of his words before he continued.“Minister Jhendai mentioned stability.It’s not something we inherit, it is something we must continuously build.We must anticipate needs before they arise, solve problems before they take root.Hyperion Proper is not merely a place, but an ideal, one we have advanced for generations.You are the architects of that progress.Every system you improve, every solution you develop, every step you take to elevate this city-state beyond what was previously imagined ensures our continued success.”
He paused, the silence intentional, as if daring the room to keep pace with the significance of his words.“We will not stagnate.We will not falter.We will continue forward, not just with innovation, but with purpose.With the certainty that what we build today will become the foundation upon which generations will stand.The world beyond our borders watches us, as they always have, searching for weakness, waiting for signs of failure.We will not give them one.Instead, we will give them something to strive for.A future free of doubt, where every variable is accounted for.A future where order is not maintained by force, but by the seamless design of our society.You are all part of that future.Let us move forward with conviction.”
Once the final words left his lips, the room remained still, as if afraid to disturb the magnitude of the moment.Chiron Sorran was not a man of many words, nor did he waste them.When he spoke, it was because what he had to say mattered.He did not inspire with emotion, but with an undeniable authority that made his expectations clear: Hyperion Proper did not simply exist, it thrived because of the Sovereign in that room—but under his leadership—and none of us could afford to forget it.
As Forum Head, Artemis oversaw all legislative direction.Her presence alone compelled representation from every branch of government.But as Primarch, Head of The Citadel of Hyperion Proper and the executive seat of Hyperion Systems, Chiron’s arrival was consecrative.It struck me then; Chiron hadn’t arrived because the moment demanded his attention.He arrived because something else had.His presence was a warning disguised as ceremony.A signal, sent not just to those watching, but to whatever doubt might’ve dared to stir beneath Hyperion’s polished surface.Something was shifting.And Chiron had come to remind anyone who might need to hear it: The Citadel does not flinch.
My eyes drifted across the sea of faces, wondering who had drawn his attention, and whether it had been by loyalty or betrayal.Positioned at the front, the Vanguard embodied Hyperion’s civilian elite—shielded by legacy, bound by tradition, their ranks aligned like a living insignia of generational privilege and inherited power.On the outskirts, like bookends framing the assembly, all thirteen members of the Ethics Council rose into a standing ovation, transforming their once-muted presence into an undeniable display of dominance.Though they rarely intervened in daily governance, their role carried supremacy.As a judicial body, they served under the Tribitheon—Hyperion’s highest court—but operated independently, a constitutional check meant to ensure no branch, executive or legislative, could act without accountability.The fact that they rose at all was a rare and calculated gesture, one that carried the full weight of legitimacy.It was enough to stir the rest of the Tribitheon to follow suit, including Shaw Moreau, Hyperion Proper’s Chief Governance Officer.Positioned farther back and bracketed by Regs, his calm scrutiny felt less like observation and more like silent surveillance.Not to be outshone, the Vanguard rose next, their movements fluid but unmistakably performative, ever conscious of pageantry.Moments later, the orators of The Forum stood, albeit slower to their feet, as if weighing the political implications.The auditorium surged with sound, applause cascading like a tidal wave, yet beneath it ran a current of unease.It wasn’t unity.It was posture.A theater of allegiance in a room where no one wanted to be the last to stand.
Unaffected by the scramble for optics, Cygnus Mercier stayed seated, offering reserved applause that somehow commanded more attention than the ovation around him.As Hyperion’s third in command, he occupied dual roles: Chief Operating Officer and Director of Synthetic Oversight.In old world terms, it would be something like a Director of Intelligence crossed with internal affairs.If the Primarch ruled in daylight, Cygnus governed in shadow.His influence reached deep into Hyperion’s synthetic and legal systems, wielding surgical control over everything beneath the surface.
As the crescendo of praise faded, Constant slid up beside me, her tone clipped and indifferent.“You’re up in four seconds.”
My pulse spiked.“What is this about?”I hissed, barely masking my panic.“You couldn’t have warned me?This isn’t just another statistics speech.All thirteen council members are out there for Chiron’s sake!”
She offered a saccharine smile, devoid of sympathy.“Then don’t mess up.”
Constant left me to return to the podium, her smile a practiced exercise in civility, her tone crisp but hollow.“And now, to conclude today’s remarks, we will hear from the Senior Advisor of Social Integration Strategies, Isara Poeima, who has spent the last decade dedicated to the ongoing analysis of Supplicant integration.She is well-versed in policy and statistical modeling, and as a result of her diligence, she has been entrusted with the important task of ensuring Hyperion’s cultural initiatives remain aligned with our core values.Please welcome Senior Advisor Poeima.”
The applause was polite but muted, matching the introduction itself.Technically professional, yet noticeably lacking the warmth or enthusiasm granted to those before me.
Constant exited the stage and shouldered past me, disappearing into the darkness and leaving me standing alone as the burden of expectation lumped in my throat.I squared my shoulders, attempting to channel even a fraction of Artemis’s commanding presence as I crossed the stage and stepped up to the podium.But how was I supposed to follow Chiron?With statistics everyone already had memorized?With carefully curated words that only upper Tier students would find profound?
Then, in the sea of dignitaries and officials, my gaze landed on Lourdes—my childhood best friend—seated beside her mina in the Vanguard section.Her platinum blonde hair shimmered under the light, the angle of her chin lifting with the elegance of a dancer.Her eyes, a sharp, icy blue, swept over the crowd with effortless grace, their cold brilliance impossible to ignore.Her tall frame and graceful posture gave her the poise of someone sculpted by art, with high cheekbones that caught the light, casting delicate shadows that seemed to accentuate her features.Lourdes was widely regarded as easily the most beautiful woman in Hyperion Proper, her striking features and commanding presence elevating every event she attended.The Vanguard represented the elite of Hyperion Proper, but if our city had royalty, the Vasthanes would be the natural heirs, with Lourdes cast as everyone’s favored princess.
Once her gaze met mine, she offered a single wink, easing the tightness in my chest.My pulse steadied.In that instant, my mind began threading together something new, something that mattered.My speech wasn’t going to be what I had rehearsed.It was going to be what this moment demanded.
I swallowed, already recognizing my pause had been noticed.“According to Greek mythology,” I began, “humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces.Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.
