Part 1
As the realization dawned on Galatea, her expression shifted from amusement to frustration. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she processed Philip's assumptions. She took a deep breath, calming herself before responding.
"Philip," she began, her voice tinged with disappointment and concern, "it is disheartening to see how much your mother's influence has affected your perception. You are about to take the helm of a monolithic conglomerate, yet you allow these baseless assumptions to affect your judgement."
Philip bristled, suddenly feeling defensive. "I am my own man, Galatea," he retorted, his voice edged with irritation. "I did not jump to conclusions because of my mother. It's just that you never formally introduced your relationship with Dr. Sokraberg to me. And honestly, who refers to their father as 'Dr. Sokraberg'?"
Galatea's gaze softened, though her frustration remained. "My father wanted to keep our personal lives away from the prying eyes of the media. That's why I was told to keep a low profile and never disclose our relationship except to a very small circle of close associates. Over time, I got into the habit of calling him 'Dr. Sokraberg' in public as well as in private."
She paused, her eyes locking onto Philip's. "And you never asked, Philip. You never even bothered to inquire about my qualifications or background. Your preconceived notions about me, shaped by fragments of gossip and personal assumptions, make you afraid to ask questions, fearing you might offend me. Perhaps you're also apprehensive that the truth could shatter the idealized image of your father that you still cherish in your heart."
Philip felt a pang of guilt, but his pride wouldn't let him back down completely. "Maybe you're right," he admitted, his tone still defensive. "But it's hard not to assume things when someone is always so secretive in their actions."
Galatea sighed, her expression softening further. "I understand, Philip. I will try to be more open with you. Trust isn't built overnight. It takes time and effort from both sides."
She moved closer to Philip and reached out, holding his hands and staring into his eyes. "Over time, I will prove myself trustworthy, and I hope you can come to rely on me. I really want you to succeed and to carry on your father's legacy. Believe me, I truly do."
Philip felt a rush of blood to his face, his heartbeat quickening at the sensation of Galatea's hands holding his. He tried hard to stop it from showing. That moment the world seemed to slow down, and Philip noticed how delicate and beautiful Galatea's hands were, her skin perfect and without blemish. Most intriguingly, he observed that her forearms were hairless and had no visible pores.
Galatea's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I am not upset at you jumping to conclusions about me or having prejudicial preconceived notions. Rather, I am concerned that you might be too impressionable. When you're at the helm of a large entity such as Andromeda Industry Group, there will be many people trying to cloud your judgment and influence your decisions in their favor. You must be perceptive, able to discern truth from lies, and avoid manipulation."
Galatea hesitated for a moment, then continued, her voice softening with emotion. "I want you to succeed, Philip. I see so much potential in you—potential that could surpass even your father's legacy. But you need to understand that the corporate world is filled with intrigue and deceit. You're incredibly smart and knowledgeable, but you lack experience in navigating these waters. You must be vigilant and wise."
Philip looked into her eyes, feeling genuinely touched by her words. He wanted so much to be admired and respected by her, to be seen as her equal and not just a mentee. "You're right," he said quietly. "I have a lot of learning to do. I promise you, one day I will live up to my father's legacy. But I want you to be by my side to witness it."
Galatea nodded, a faint smile touching her lips. "Of course. Unless you force me out, I will always be by your side. This is your father's wish and also my wish."
Philip felt a mixture of gratitude and determination. "Thank you, Galatea. That means a lot to me."
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the buzz on Philip's phone. He glanced at the screen, and his face turned ashen. His breathing quickened, and a sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. Galatea, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor, looked at him with concern.
"Philip, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.
Philip's hands trembled. Suddenly, he felt a sharp, pounding headache and a sensation of pressure in his chest. His vision blurred, and he felt faint. Without warning, he swayed forward towards the table.
Galatea acted swiftly, catching him just in time to prevent his fall. His body shook, and he gasped for breath. "Philip, breathe. Try to stay calm," she said, her voice steady but filled with concern.
His hand felt ice-cold against her back, and his body continued to tremble uncontrollably. Galatea tightened her embrace, helping him to walk over to the nearby sofa. She gently eased him down, his head resting against her shoulder. His pulse was rapid and thready.
"Everything is going to be okay, Philip," Galatea whispered soothingly in his ear. She held him close, her arm wrapped around him protectively, and her other hand reached for her phone and called the specialized medical team that served the Graciastas Estate along with a few other elite clients.
"Just breathe, Philip," she whispered again, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. "Help is on the way."
He closed his eyes, focusing on her steady heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Slowly, his breathing returned to normal, and the tension in his body eased slightly, though the throbbing headache and chest pressure persisted.
Within minutes, the specialized medical team arrived, having a team stationed only minutes away from the Graciastas Estate. They were equipped with advanced medical devices and swiftly took his vitals, confirming his blood pressure was dangerously high. They administered immediate care to stabilize him and began to lower his blood pressure.
"Thank you, Galatea," Philip murmured, his voice weak but grateful, as the medical team continued their work.
Part 2
In the grand and opulent Osgorian embassy, nestled in the bustling heart of Noryork, the capital city of the Dominion of Norlandia, two men were engaged in a deep discussion. The embassy, a magnificent structure built during the heyday of the Osgorian Empire 150 years ago, stood as a testament to a bygone era of grandeur and dominance. The architecture boasted elaborate facades adorned with statues and reliefs, tall arched windows, and majestic spires that soared towards the sky, reminiscent of the grandeur of 19th-century European palaces. Intricate stone carvings depicted scenes of historical triumphs and mythological figures, all meticulously crafted to showcase the empire's artistic prowess.
The building's exterior, with its stately columns and expansive windows, reflected the ambition and confidence of an empire that once challenged the global supremacy of the Avalonian Empire. Back then, Osgoria was a rising star, an industrial powerhouse on the brink of overtaking a decaying Avalonian Empire, which had long dominated the globe in industry and trade. Today, both nations are shadows of their former selves, grappling with vastly diminished military prowess and severe demographic crises. They struggle to maintain their relevance on the world stage, desperately clinging to the shadows of their former glory.
Norlandia, once a crucial component of the Avalonian Empire's vast domain that spanned the globe, is now one of the only two remaining dominions along with Ausbina. The Avalonian Empire, in its current form, consists of the homeland of Avalonia and these two dominions. Each polity is governed by its own prime minister and parliament, with full autonomy over internal affairs. The prime ministers report directly to the Emperor, who is largely a figurehead regarding all internal matters of the empire. However, a fourth minister, known as the "First Minister of the Empire," holds equal rank to the three prime ministers and is responsible for most external affairs, including diplomatic efforts and defense policies at the imperial level. The "First Minister of the Empire" is nominated by the Emperor or any prime minister and must receive approval from all three parliaments before being officially appointed. The position is re-appointed every four years, and in the absence of a First Minister, the Avalonian Emperor temporarily exercises the position's powers.
Inside the embassy, high ceilings adorned with frescoes depicting scenes of imperial glory and vast chandeliers of crystal and gold cast a warm, inviting glow. The floors were a mosaic of marble, intricately designed to reflect the nation's rich heritage. Lavish rugs and tapestries, each telling a story of Osgoria's illustrious past, lined the hallways and rooms.
Seated on two lavish sofas in a room adorned with these tapestries and gleaming chandeliers, the men exuded an air of authority and importance. The younger man, Enrich Falconhyde, was a striking figure. With blond hair that gleamed in the soft light, piercing green eyes, and a height of 185 cm, he embodied the very essence of regal elegance. His white tuxedo, meticulously tailored, accentuated his broad shoulders and slim waist, making him the epitome of aristocratic grace. His handsome face, framed by perfectly styled hair, had a commanding presence that demanded attention and respect. Enrich was the chief diplomat stationed in Norlandia from Osgoria, and his demeanor reflected his high-ranking position.
Opposite him sat an older man. Clad in a distinguished military uniform adorned with numerous medals and insignias, he emanated a sense of gravitas and authority. His fit physique and penetrating gaze hinted at a lifetime of service and secrets.
The older man spoke first, his voice resonant with the weight of experience. "Enrich, the Imperator wants you to deliver his greetings to Prince Max of Sokraberg at his engagement party. While you're there, take the opportunity to discreetly extend our formal invitation for him to lead Project Motherland."
Enrich nodded, his mind racing. "Do you think Dr. Sokraberg will agree to lead it? Also, can he be trusted?"
The older man's eyes gleamed. "Remember, Dr. Sokraberg is technically a Prince of the Imperium and a member of the Imperial Assembly. His interests are deeply entwined with the Imperium. So we can be assured of his loyalty to our nation. As for the invitation, we have already extended it to him informally before. He already has a general idea of what it is about. But remember, it is a state secret and no one else at the event is to know about it."
Enrich leaned forward, his expression serious. "So I take it that the Chancellor has indeed leveraged the wartime exemption from public scrutiny awarded to the military to start projects necessary for the long-term but morally controversial."
The older man nodded; his gaze steely. "The war has created the perfect pretext for innovations that would normally cause massive public backlash. Morality evolves with public perception, but objective necessity waits for no one. We must make the best of a bad situation. If Project Motherland succeeds, not only will it turn the tide of the war, but it will also provide a viable solution to the demographic crisis that has plagued our nation for decades. It will allow Osgoria to reclaim its rightful place under the sun."
Enrich sighed, the weight of the conversation settling over him. "I will do my best to convince him. But what about Ms. Yin? She has no traceable history in Norlandia. It seems like she never came to Norlandia before."
The older man nodded thoughtfully. "We have not been able to find anything on her in Osgoria except for her recent exit record from Osgoria. I have heard that she is actually an orphan from the Celestial Dragon Realm who was a genius researcher and partnered with Max on one of his robotic research projects there. The lack of verifiable information on her is troubling, but we should not pry into Max's business. It could infuriate him, and we cannot afford to offend him. Given how smart he is, I trust he knows what he's getting into."
Enrich frowned, still not entirely convinced. "I hope so. But why is he suddenly pushing for changes to trust and inheritance laws? Is it really about making sure artificial beings with sentience and sufficient mental capacity are given inheritance rights? Didn't he just push through the charter of basic rights for sentient artificial beings a few years ago?"
The older man's expression turned contemplative. "The issues Dr. Max is concerned about are decades away. Based on our record, there isn't even a single artificial being capable of meeting the threshold of sentience as defined in the bill that he pushed into law."
Enrich's eyes narrowed. "Then is Ms. Yin what I think she is?"
The older man responded with a mysterious smile. "Let's just say that sometimes, it's best to keep our assumptions to ourselves and avoid knowing things we ought not to know."
They both chuckled, the atmosphere lightening slightly. But the weight of their conversation lingered, a reminder of the complex and uncertain future they were navigating. Enrich knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he was ready.
As the older man prepared to leave, his gaze lingered on Enrich, a mixture of pride and concern in his eyes. "One more thing, Enrich. Be mindful of the company you keep. There are many who would seek to influence you. Trust your instincts and discern the truth from the lies."
Enrich nodded, a steely determination in his eyes. "I will. Thank you for the advice."
With that, Enrich left the opulent room, his mind already racing with plans for the engagement party and the delicate task that lay ahead. The fate of the Osgorian Imperium, and possibly the entire world, hung in the balance.
Part 3
In the remote mountainous region of Norlandia, a sprawling farm property housed a massive observatory, a structure of breathtaking design and sophistication. The observatory, encased in a vast glass dome, featured a mosaic of triangular panes seamlessly joined together. By day, the glass reflected the rugged terrain, and by night, it allowed an unobstructed view of the cosmos. The dome, supported by a delicate lattice of steel beams curving gracefully towards the apex, was an architectural masterpiece that melded strength with elegance.
Inside this glass sanctuary, the air was cool and carried the faint scent of cedar from the wooden accents that adorned the room. Dr. Max Sokraberg sat in a luxurious leather chair, holding a glass of red wine, his eyes fixed on the night sky. His rugged, muscular frame contrasted starkly with the delicacy of his surroundings, yet he seemed perfectly at ease.
Beside him stood a young lady of eastern heritage, dressed in a sleek black cheongsam that hugged her form perfectly. She was a few decades his junior, with delicate features and large almond-shaped brown eyes. Her jet-black hair, with just a hint of brown, cascaded down her back. Her oval-shaped face was flawless, her skin impeccable, and her figure was a golden proportion of grace and elegance. Despite standing over 171 cm tall in her white flats adorned with a rose on the front tip, she seemed fragile next to the imposing figure of Dr. Sokraberg.
Her face was lit with awe and admiration as she gazed at the night sky. "This is amazing! The night sky seems so different when viewed in person," she exclaimed, her voice filled with wonder. She stretched out her arms as if trying to embrace the stars above, spinning around in sheer happiness as the moonlight bathed her in its silvery glow.
Dr. Sokraberg smiled, watching her with a mix of affection and amusement. "That's why I said you should come out more instead of learning about the world through the internet," he said, his voice warm and gentle.
Snow, as she was called, nodded enthusiastically. "I know, and I'm glad I did. It's so beautiful here, Max. I can't believe how different everything looks compared to the pictures."
Max took a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving her. "There's a whole world out there, Snow. It's one thing to read about it, but experiencing it firsthand is something else entirely."
Snow's eyes sparkled with joy as she turned her gaze back to the stars. "I want to see everything now. All the places you've told me about. The mountains, the forests, the oceans... I want to experience it all."
Max chuckled, a deep, resonant sound. "And you will. There will be plenty of time for that."