In the vast universe, 28 years flash by like a snap of the fingers. But for human civilization, that's long enough for irreversible, earth-shaking transformation.
In those 28 years, Steve and Sion, as chessmasters of a grand ga, beheld the world's tumult with cold eyes. Earth—this pale, ho planet—reverted swiftly to a primordial silence. Bustling cities lay buried in vines; birds and beasts reclaid rusted forests of iron. Once-filled continents beca vast golf courses, maintained only for a few powerful families. The blue planet turned into a Garden of Eden—interred by a chosen few elites.
By contrast, scores of massive "SIDE" colonies dotted the solar system. These were "upgraded O'Neill Cylinders," crowded and noisy cages adrift in the darkness, holding 90% of human civilization's fire.
The Earth Federation proclaid themselves pioneers on the onward journey to the stars. But 28 years was ti enough for the most beautiful lies to rot at their core. Limited resources, oppressive living space, exploitation, information gaps, and population-control "hunts" made every colonial realize they were not pioneers, but exiles.
Steve and Sion completed the most thorough layout in these 28 years. He used ODG's monopoly on starships, mining, communications—seeding all colonies with his pieces, forming a huge web of contacts and information. Sion prepared everything necessary for revolution from Atlas tech: ideological weapons, quantum secure comms, and above all—the supre and unanswerable theoretical banner.
Finally, on April 7, 2030, the bomb Steve had set over 28 years was ignited.
The ruling body ford by Earth's old powers, the Federation, issued a brief, one-way broadcast to humanity:
"With Earth's ecology restored to ideal levels, the Federation suspends all new SIDE developnt plans indefinitely, for resource conservation."
This detonated like a bomb in every space dweller's mind. They had lost all hope of returning ho; their children and grandchildren were now dood forever to these cold, cosmic cages. Betrayed, abandoned, toyed with—anger swept the colonies like wildfire.
And that's when Steve decided to take center stage.
…
SIDE 3
The colony most fad for iron and discipline. In its central square, millions gathered—a black sea of rage, shouting, waving fists, their fury focused on the coolly-smiling Federation spokesman on the big screen.
Suddenly, every screen blinked off. On the central podium, a single man appeared—not young any longer, his hair white, face marked by ti, but his eyes, behind black-rimd glasses, sharper, deeper than ever—holding the stars of the entire universe in his gaze. Simply by standing there, his pressure and majesty silenced the crowd's roar.
Steve Weis—the Project Terra Sancta's original advocate, founder of ODG, the "Initiator" who deceived them, showing himself in public for the first ti in 28 years. He looked at the audience: confusion, anger, hope. He began to speak, his voice echoing through SIDE 3, synced through ODG's network to every colony:
"Comrades living in space! Brothers and sisters!
I know your anger; I feel your pain! Because I have been just like you! All of us have been deceived!"
His opening bound everyone together. The crowd watched, stunned.
"Twenty-eight years ago, I proposed the [Project Terra Sancta].
Its only purpose was to preserve our declining ho planet, to leave a sacred, eternal cradle for human civilization!
A beautiful plan—selfless in aim and effect.
And all pioneers who left for this dark cosmos, you are the truest, most honored heroes of that project!
"But now—our sacrifices, our devotion—are for nothing!
Stolen by those moths left on Earth, clinging to the heavy soil!
They turned our common sacred land into a playground for their pleasure!
You are called pioneers, but are discarded like trash, left to die in the cold void!
They gorged on the fruits of your sacrifice, while their arrogant announcent has now severed all hope of your return!"
His words hamred their hearts. Anger kindled anew, fiercer than before.
"But today—let say this: They are wrong. Terribly wrong! They thought occupying Earth ant seizing the future.
But they do not understand... the real future of humanity is not on that blue planet—
It is in you!"
"Look at yourselves! You are the new generation, adapted to space!
Your vision has long since surpassed the horizon!
Your souls are already freed from gravity's chains!
You are the real—[New Human]!"
This electrifying concept—calculated for days and nights by Sion—was for the first ti announced, crystal-clear, to the world by Steve.
"We, the new humanity, are the true inheritors of our civilization's evolution!
The old n who remain on Earth are nothing but relics, soon to be erased by ti. They have neither the right nor the power to define our future!
"So, as the original author of the Sacred Land Project, I co now to make the final correction!
"I hereby declare: From this mont,
the only legitimate governnt representing ALL the interests of all new humanity throughout the universe—the United Federation of Humankind—is officially established!
"Call out! All inhabitants of space, all New Humans, unite in this very mont!
"We will begin our first fight for independence against the decaying Earth Federation!
We will take back everything that is rightfully ours!
Our ultimate goal is not destruction, but completion!
We will 'liberate' the last humans shackled to gravity.
We will build a true, complete Sacred Land on Earth!
Our ho planet will finally beco the eternally peaceful, holy land of all mankind!
"Arise! All who will not be slaves!
"For the future of New Human! For our common ho!"
"For the United Federation of Humankind!"
His words faded. The whole square was silent, deathly still. One second. Two...
Then the earthshattering cheers swept through the colony!
"United Federation!"
"New Human!"
"Steve Weis!!"
Their shouting rolled on, a revolutionary tide overtaking the whole solar system.
Steve glanced once more at the sea of enthusiasm and then withdrew behind the stage.
Waiting for him in the control room was Sion Eltnam Atlasia—his comrade in arms for 28 years, and lover, whose closeness and intimacy had deepened through many hardships.
At 45, her immortal True Ancestor beauty was unchanged, but her athyst eyes had grown deeper, wiser—like the calm sea. She wore a tailored indigo Federation uniform and carried a steaming cup of tea.
"Well done. Thank you, my dear."
She approached, straightened his ruffled collar, and handed him the tea.
He took the cup, but did not drink, only held her warm hand and gazed into her eyes, gently asking:
"Sion, has our new world begun?"
A confident, gentle smile curled her lips. She squeezed his hand in hers, her violet eyes shining with "love" and "wisdom."
"No," she shook her head, "our world began already—on that night, 28 years ago."
Everything, now, was only moving according to calculation.
…
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