Jace Strickland POV

  Thriexa then turned back toward Henry and I. “These are the voices of our people. What we discuss here will determine the future of the Eova on Earth. Choose your words carefully.”

  I straightened, keeping my expression even. This was a defining moment—not just for the Eova, but for me and Henry. And whatever was decided in this room would determine the future of Earth and its place in the universe.

  No pressure.

  The room remained silent for a moment, the weight of her statement hanging over us like a storm waiting to break.

  Thriexa’s voice took on a more measured tone as she spoke. “From what I have seen, humans experience emotions far more intensely than any species we have encountered. Their anger burns hotter, their grief cuts deeper, and their joy is almost overwhelming in its intensity. It is no wonder that misunderstandings can so easily arise between them and others. If we are to convince the President of our peaceful intentions, we must account for this. Words alone may not be enough to make him feel the truth—that we seek only a home, not conquest.”

  I blinked, caught off guard by Thriexa’s statement. Humans? The most intense emotions in the universe? I had never thought about it that way. Sure, people were passionate, unpredictable, sometimes even reckless when it came to their feelings—but more intense than an entire universe of species?

  I glanced around the room, searching the faces of the Eova leaders. No one looked like they disagreed. If anything, there was a quiet understanding in their expressions, as if they had witnessed firsthand just how powerful human emotions could be.

  The realization made something in my gut twist. It wasn’t just our technology or our military that made us dangerous—it was us. The way we felt things, the way we reacted, the way anger, grief, or fear could push someone to do the unimaginable. If we were this unpredictable to them, how would they convince the President to trust them? How could they make him feel what they felt?

  Leelo leaned forward slightly, his golden eyes gleaming with intrigue. “Then let us tell them our story in a way they will truly understand. We should not rely only on words. Let them see our history.”

  Tophae nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It would be the most effective way for them to grasp the truth of who we are. The Luxsor can weave the memories of our journey, our past struggles, and what we have endured. Combined with Bopro technology, we can create an immersive experience—one that will allow the President and his advisors to witness the history of the Eova as if they had lived it themselves.”

  Henry straightened at that. “Wait, you’re talking about directly showing them your memories? Like a simulation?”

  Leelo smiled knowingly. “Something far more real than a simulation. The experience would be constructed from true memories, stored and shared with precision. The President would not simply watch; he would feel the emotions, the desperation of our people as our home was destroyed, the hope as we sought a new one, the struggles we faced along the way.”

  Jace crossed his arms, skeptical but intrigued. “You’re saying you can make him live through it?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes,” Tophae replied. “The human mind is resilient, capable of processing vast amounts of information when guided properly. If we craft the experience carefully, we can ensure that your leaders understand our plight in a way words alone could never convey.”

  Silence hung over the room for a moment as everyone processed what had just been suggested. My mind raced, trying to grasp the full implications of it. Seeing someone’s memory? Not just seeing it—living it? I exchanged a glance with Henry, who looked equally skeptical yet intrigued.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Henry said, leaning forward slightly. “You’re talking about creating an experience where the President and his team won’t just be told your story but will actually feel what you felt? They’ll see it as if they were there?”

  Leelo nodded, his golden eyes gleaming. “Precisely. Our memories are not just recollections. They carry the emotions, the sensations, the weight of the moment. With Tophae’s technology and the Luxsor’s ability to project memories, we can create an immersive experience that allows your leaders to understand our history in a way no words ever could.”

  “I have developed a device that can accomplish this,” Tophae added. “It captures and translates memories into an experience that another being can perceive. However, it requires a Luxsor to provide the memories themselves. They must weave them carefully, selecting what is most important to be felt and seen.”

  I sat back in my chair, exhaling slowly. This was a hell of a proposal. “And you think this will convince the President?”

  Thriexa spoke then, her voice calm yet firm. “It will give him the truth. How he chooses to react will be up to him. But if he feels what we have felt, if he experiences the desperation, the loss, the hope—I believe he will understand that we seek only survival, not conflict.”

  Henry glanced at me, then back at the Eova leaders. “Has this ever been done before? Sharing memories with another species?”

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  Leelo tilted his head slightly, considering the question. “Not with humans. But the principle remains the same. It has worked before. We have shared our history with others in the past to build trust and establish peaceful relations.”

  Henry crossed his arms, clearly still processing. “And you’re sure this is safe?”

  Tophae nodded. “There is no physical harm. The mind will only process what it is given. But, it will feel real. The emotions will be strong, and the sensations will be vivid. That is what makes it effective.”

  A thought struck me, and I leaned forward. “Can we try it? Before presenting this to the President, can we see how it works?”

  Leelo’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “You wish to experience it yourself?”

  Henry nodded. “It would make sense. If we’re going to advocate for this, we need to know what we’re getting into.”

  Thriexa shifted slightly, and for the first time, I saw hesitation flicker across her face. Then she squared her shoulders. “If we are to do this, we should use a moment that is significant. Something that will show you who we are.” She took a breath. “I will offer my memory—our first landing on Earth.”

  There was a brief pause, and I felt the weight of her words settle over the room. The moment the Eova had arrived here, the uncertainty, the hope, the fear of what they might find—it was all contained within her memory.

  Leelo inclined his head. “A strong choice. If you are willing, then we can proceed.”

  Tophae moved swiftly, retrieving a small device from within his bag. It looked almost unassuming—sleek, metallic, no bigger than a handheld recorder. But something about it carried an air of gravity. “This will serve as the vessel for the memory,” he explained. “Once connected, Leelo will guide the experience. Those who partake will see, hear, and feel everything as Thriexa did.”

  I exhaled slowly. This was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I knew one thing for certain: once I stepped into this memory, there would be no turning back.

  Leelo turned to Thriexa, extending his hand toward her. In his other hand, he held onto the sleek device Tophae had produced, his fingers steady over its surface. “When you are ready, Aizih.”

  Thriexa met my gaze for a brief moment before taking Leelo’s hand and closing her eyes, centering herself. “Let’s begin.”

  I swallowed hard as the room around me faded, and I was pulled into a memory that wasn’t my own.

  The sensation was strange—like stepping through a veil of light. The chamber disappeared, and suddenly, I wasn’t in the meeting anymore. I was her. I was Thriexa.

  I felt the cool metal beneath my feet as I walked forward, stepping into the transformation portal aboard the transport ship. A surge of familiarity settled in my chest—this was not my first time doing this, yet it felt different. More permanent. As I passed through the shimmering energy of the portal, I felt my body shift, adapting, solidifying into the form that would allow me to walk among the inhabitants of this planet.

  Then, the artificial light of the ship faded, and I stepped outside.

  The moment I emerged, I looked down at my new body, flexing my fingers, feeling the way this form moved. It was strange, yet familiar. I had adapted to many planets, each time taking a shape suited for survival, but this one felt different. The proportions were similar to my last form, yet subtly different—the limbs heavier, the skin more textured, the balance shifting with the absence of what had once been a tail. I could feel the strength in this body, but it lacked the fluidity I had known before.

  I thought briefly of my true form, the one I had only just left behind before stepping through the transformation portal. In space, in the station designed for our natural state, I was faster, stronger—built for endurance and survival. That form was resilient, adaptable to the cold, unyielding environment of the void. Here, in this body, I felt heavier, bound to the gravity of this world in a way I was not used to. My limbs were solid, my balance different without the tail I had relied on during my life on the previous planet. The proportions of this form resembled those I had in my true form, yet there were changes to fit the needs of this new world.

  It was always strange, this shift from what I was born as to what I needed to be. I had taken many forms, but I always returned to my true one among my people. Still, every time I changed, I wondered—how much of me was still me? Would my true form always feel like home? Or was it just another adaptation waiting to be replaced?

  The sun was warm—warmer than I expected. The air was heavy with moisture, carrying the scent of salt and earth. I stepped onto the soft sands of Saliscana Island, my feet sinking slightly into the golden grains. The ocean stretched before me, vast and endless, its waves rolling in a rhythmic dance that felt at once soothing and unfamiliar.

  Trenal and Tocci followed beside me, their silence mirroring my own. For the first time, we had touched the soil of this new world. A world that could be home.

  Hope swelled in my chest, mingling with the uncertainty that gnawed at the edges of my thoughts. Would we be welcomed here? Would the inhabitants of this planet see us as refugees seeking peace, or as invaders to be feared?

  I glanced at Trenal. His normally confident expression was guarded, his dark eyes scanning the landscape, always alert. He had been my protector for as long as I could remember, yet now, we were all equally vulnerable.

  Tocci stepped closer, brushing her fingers against my arm, her touch grounding me. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “But do you feel it, Thriexa? The weight of something unknown?”

  I nodded. “Yes. This world is vibrant, alive… but it is not ours. Not yet.”

  The three of us moved forward, leaving the transport behind as we ventured into the island’s dense foliage. Every sound, every shift of the wind through the leaves, sent a spark of anticipation through me. I had studied countless planets, learned the ways of foreign ecosystems, but nothing compared to standing in the midst of it, breathing it in with my own lungs.

  Beneath the wonder, fear coiled deep in my stomach. What if we had made a mistake? What if this planet would reject us, like so many before?

  Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the memory shattered like glass.

  The warmth of the sun disappeared, the scent of the ocean was gone, and the weight of my transformed body faded. The next breath I took felt different, foreign, as I was yanked back into reality. The chamber of the representatives’ meeting materialized around me, and I nearly stumbled as I regained my bearings.

  I wasn’t the only one shaken. Henry inhaled sharply beside me, blinking as if trying to reorient himself. My heart was still racing from emotions that weren’t even mine. I had felt everything—Thriexa’s awe, her anxiety, her desperate hope that this planet would be different.

  I ran a hand down my face, exhaling slowly. “That was… intense.”

  Henry nodded, rubbing his temples. “Yeah. The President is going to have a hard time saying no after something like that.”