The mont Sam and Marco entered, their senses were swallowed whole by the massive scene stretching out before them.
The expo hall was huge.
Not regular huge. But capital planet-huge.
It was the kind of huge that would make anyone stare upward until their necks begged for dical assistance.
And for people who had been stationed in a place where there was just a lot of sea and even more murky water, seeing this thing stretch out before them felt like soone had taken a small city and packed every inch of it with attractions.
The ceiling soared so high it felt like it needed its own weather system. Enormous support beams were lined with different banners, while holographic strears were floating in the air like schools of glowing fish. The floor stretched out in every direction, bursting with animated mascots, dancing lights, and floating advertisents that spiraled lazily through the air.
Booths lined the central halls in every direction.
So had bright neon displays.
So booths hissed with steam.
So projected three-dinsional models that zipped through the pathways, nearly colliding with visitors.
Actual robots wandered around like friendly tour guides, their screens flashing greetings as they waved at passing children who shrieked with excitent.
Sam let out a long, impressed whistle.
"Damn. This place is nuts."
Beside him, Marco nodded slowly, eyes as wide as twin moons. "Yeah. This is a lot."
The entrance plaza alone had enough attractions to be its own amusent park. Directly above the walkway hung a massive rotating hologram of the Empire’s crest, large enough to be seen from the far back of the hall. Every few seconds, it pulsed gently, scattering flakes of golden light over the crowd.
If the delegates from other places ever forgot where they were, they’d be able to easily rember just by craning their necks, because that display was the kind of stuff people would rember even in their sleep.
People sward the area. Families shuffled forward. Students darted between adults. Children tried to wriggle out of their parents’ arms so they could run toward the nearest flashy stand. Vendors called out greetings. Drones buzzed overhead as they broadcast the aerial feed. The whole place buzzed with chaotic wonder.
Sam stared around with a puzzled expression.
"Has it always been like this? I don’t rember the expos ever looking this big. Maybe I was too young, or it’s been so long since I last attended in person. But pretty sure the place didn’t feel like it’d eat before."
Marco snorted. "It probably wasn’t. The news always covered the expos from previous years. They never looked like this."
Sam looked at him. "So this is just this year?"
Marco nodded firmly. "Yeah. This year is insane."
They both stood there for a mont, taking in the spectacle.
Then they rembered they needed to actually pick a direction.
Left looked interesting.
Right looked interesting.
Straight ahead looked like a guaranteed way to get swallowed by a crowd.
Sam turned in a slow circle. "Where are we supposed to start?"
Marco was about to say sothing when a wave of movent caught their attention.
It began with light shuffling.
Then another.
Then several more.
It was the kind of running where a person was very clearly running, yet desperately pretending they weren’t. Feet slid, halted, and changed course. Shoulders leaned forward just enough to break into a sprint, only for the person to force themselves back into an awkward attempt at walking. It was subtle in intention, but not subtle in execution.
Then it began.
The word vomit.
Not quiet whispers, but the rushed kind that spilled out when soone was too excited to regulate their volu.
"We need to get there right now."
"Huh?"
"I am telling you, the booth is this way."
"No, but the Silver Serpents—."
"Well, you can go there instead if you want, but don’t bla if this becos a lifelong regret."
"Fine. Where do we go?"
"Follow ! And hurry, but don’t look like you are hurrying."
Sam and Marco traded glances. Their soldier instincts, which never fully turned off, absorbed every sound and motion without effort.
They listened.
They assessed.
They understood.
Whatever was happening, it was interesting.
And probably worth following.
And what do you know, when they got there, the two were surprised to hear intense cheering.
"Huh?"
__
It was an absolute accident.
In truth, Reeve Solin, a newbie intern for Solaris Tis, was supposed to go to the Gilden Stags booth.
His job today was to take photos and prepare a write-up as a covert visitor. That part was easy since at this point, he was basically invisible. Without his official dia pass, nobody would think twice about him. He could have walked into the most random booths, and people would probably just assu he was soone’s misplaced cousin.
But Reeve got lost.
More like, he got swept away by the tidal wave of expo-goers at the entrance. At one point, he was elbowed in the ribs by an overly excited grandmother, nearly trampled by a group of students, and sohow forced to sidestep a toddler who moved with the speed of a guided missile.
Haaaay.
He really should’ve waited a bit before getting in.
Eventually, he slipped out of the main stream of bodies and chose a side path in hopes of protecting his limbs.
That was when it happened.
Sniff, sniff.
Reeve froze.
His nose twitched.
What was that?
Sniff.
He turned his head slowly, almost dramatically, because sothing in the air had changed. Sothing unexpected and fragrant drifted across the walkway and curled around him like a beckoning hand.
He sniffed again.
He had never slled anything like it. Not at work. Not in the capital. Not in his entire life.
What in the galaxies was that?
His feet began moving before his brain ford a thought. He followed the scent with the dazed obedience of soone under a gentle spell. He walked past three other booths, ignored a promotional flyer soone tried to slap into his hand, and dodged a cha mascot attempting to distribute coupons.
He turned the corner.
Then he stopped walking altogether.
His jaw dropped.
What was he looking at?
A booth?
No.
Booths?
Maybe?
He was not sure.
Because the space before him looked nothing like any booth he had ever seen in any Annual Expo.
He found it so unusual that he montarily lost the scent he’d been tracking.
Every other booth had neon lights, holographic boards, giant speakers, tallic structures, and an overwhelming urge to scream for power, which led all the attendees to expect that kind of experience.
But what was he looking at?
This... was not that.
He rubbed his eyes.
Plants?
"???"
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