Page 4 of The Sovereign, Part One (The Sovereign Saga #1)
The moment I stepped into the Eidolon, a Hiven greeted me.
Her synthetic features were arranged in a neutral but welcoming expression as she spoke.
“Senior Advisor Poeima, I am Sivara. Welcome. Your final phase of the Veritas Protocol is ready for initiation. Please proceed to the central interface.” The smooth cadence of her voice was both familiar and detached, the standard tone of Hyperion’s service models: clear, efficient, and utterly devoid of hesitation.
I acknowledged with a polite nod, stepping forward.
Sivara’s head tilted, her sensors ensuring I had processed the instructions.
“The sequence will begin once you are seated. Adjustments can be made throughout, but all selections are final upon confirmation. Should you require guidance, I am available. Do you have any questions before proceeding?”
“No, thank you,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. Sivara’s response was immediate, a graceful step back to allow me to move freely, like all Hiven, her presence unobtrusive yet ever attentive.
The Eidolon process had been designed to ensure every choice I made was intentional, every preference rooted in a forged sense of self.
It began with the final aesthetic refinements, small variations of Maxim’s features projected before me, the slope of his nose, the width of his jaw, the way his eyes held light.
Each selection felt both inconsequential and monumental, small details accumulating into the whole of him.
I cultivated every nuance, the shape of his lips, the warmth of his gaze, the subtle flex of his jawline when he smiled.
And then, the depth of his voice, the cadence of his speech, even the way his smile and jaw changed as he laughed.
I hesitated over the posture settings, toggling between dignified and relaxed, ultimately settling somewhere in between.
He should move with confidence, I decided, his stride firm but unhurried, carrying the tempered strength of someone who could protect without needing to dominate.
As I moved through the interface, I envisioned the moments I had been waiting for, our first conversation, his voice shaping my name, the ease of his presence filling the spaces of my life.
I had constructed him a thousand times in my mind, and yet, as the final rendering coalesced before me, I felt something unexpected.
Wonder.
The projection rotated, each angle revealing the culmination of my choices, the reflection of desires I’d barely spoken aloud. Maxim was no longer a concept. He was here, waiting to step into my world.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and cut from symmetry, his build both warrior-like and refined.
His olive-toned skin bore the faintest gold undertones, as if he spent most of his days in the sun, a warmth that contrasted the cool sharpness of his features.
Wavy dark hair fell to just below his ears, pushed back in a way that felt purposeful but not contrived.
A well-kept beard framed a strong jaw, accentuating a mouth designed for stillness or storms. But it was his eyes—clear, olive green, unflinching—that made the projection feel like a presence.
Alive. Watching. Waiting. Void of uncertainty.
Just unwavering attention, as if even standing still, he was already moving toward me.
And then, as if sensing my thoughts, he looked down at me, our eyes meeting in a moment that felt impossibly intimate.
His gaze held a depth I hadn’t expected—an unshakable devotion, laced with excitement and something else entirely.
Curiosity. Understanding. Love. I had spent my life studying Supplicants, preparing for this inevitability, and yet nothing had prepared me for the way he looked at me.
As if I were a miracle. As if I had been worth the wait.
This, I realized, must be what love at first sight truly meant.
Sivara observed my reaction with a polite tilt of her head. “How shall his designation be formally inscribed?”
“Oh,” I said, hesitating to peel my eyes from the rendering. “His name is Maxim.”
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.”