Atlas Eumélos :
I was at the Hôtel de Marigny, the palace France reserves for its most distinguished guests.
All around me, opulence reigned: finely carved white marble pillars supported a ceiling adorned with gleaming gold leaf.
A faint scent of rose lingered in the air.
The chandeliers, once lit by candlelight, now emitted a soft glow thanks to discreet bulbs.
Yet the daylight filtering through the large bay windows, framed with golden leaves, already filled the room.
Everything here seemed designed to revive a past grandeur that France refused to let fade.
I was enjoying a typically French breakfast: crisp, still-warm pastries releasing delicate steam, and carefully prepared artisanal jams.
The portions were so generous it would have taken me a week to finish them.
As the time for the meeting approached, I checked a message on my phone:
"We have resolved the ongoing matter."
Natali had completed her mission.
Good news… but now I had to focus on another equally delicate affair.
A discreet knock pulled me from my thoughts.
Amarante Lindiri entered the room, dressed in a impeccable black suit, her short hair a deep shade of obsidian.
"Sir, the President of France is waiting for you."
Finally.
The moment had come.
We crossed the hall and stepped into the limousine.
A few minutes later, escorted, we arrived in front of the Élysée Palace.
A crowd of journalists was already gathered along the red carpet.
No surprise — here, everything was appearance, and every gesture of mine would be scrutinized.
As I exited the vehicle, I greeted the cameras.
My guards positioned themselves on each side of the walkway while Amarante followed close behind me.
The French President awaited me, smiling despite the palpable tension.
I was taller than him, but in politics, physical stature meant little.
"I hope your journey was pleasant," he said politely.
"Yes, everything went very well. Thank you for your hospitality," I replied with a measured smile.
After the traditional handshake under the flashing cameras, he invited me to climb the steps of the Palace.
Two more figures awaited us inside: Elitable, the Prime Minister, and Garmie, the Minister of the Armed Forces.
"Mr. Prime Minister."
"Mr. President."
Elitable spoke first:
"We have much to discuss."
I nodded.
Tension was already settling in.
As we walked through the hallways lined with historical paintings, my gaze was drawn to one in particular:
a man being devoured by his own horses in Roman times.
A talented work… but macabre, and strangely unsettling.
At last, we entered the meeting room, where a heavy atmosphere hung in the air, tinged with an odd, indescribable scent.
The three men took their seats.
The silence that followed said everything about the importance of this meeting.
Macrin began:
"Mr. Eumélos, as you know, we wish to discuss the case of Mr. Jérémy Chapi, a French citizen currently on your territory.
We wish to repatriate him so he may answer for the acts he committed in several countries."
His smile was polite… but icy.
I answered calmly:
"Mr. Chapi has requested political asylum in Atlantis.
I understand he violated certain aerial laws, but he is now under our responsibility, as I have accepted his request."
Elitable immediately countered:
"You intend to alienate other nations? You usually avoid involving yourself in such matters."
I took a few notes from my folder without acknowledging his provocation.
"According to our reports, and based on feedback from several leaders, very few countries actually wish to prosecute him.
No significant damage was caused, apart from a temporary disruption of air traffic.
Moreover, an altercation with your authorities — followed by the destruction of his property — convinced him he no longer wished to return to France."
Garmie nearly exploded:
"Let's stop beating around the bush! Say it clearly: you want to keep his technological advancements for your own nation!"
I met his gaze without blinking.
"Like every nation on Earth, we are indeed interested in the technology found in his vessel.
We have also shared our investigation results with all countries.
His craft caught fire, destroying all components, including reactors and its power source.
It seems your own forces recovered some valuable items from his home, didn't they?"
Macrin intervened, trying to calm the situation:
"Let's stay reasonable. We simply want to find common ground."
I knew exactly what they wanted:
Jérémy's technology.
And considering the barn fire, they must have recovered almost nothing — which explained their insistence.
"Allow me to be frank," I continued.
"You squandered your only chance with that entity he called Iris.
Had you not launched your assault on his home, things might have turned out differently.
In the eyes of the world, you ruined everything — despite your attempts to manipulate the media."
The three men stiffened.
Garmie clenched his jaw.
"You're crossing the line."
"No. I am simply stating what your citizens already know.
Your justice system is nothing but a façade.
And you want me to hand over a man whose knowledge you covet?
The answer is no.
If he returns to France, it will be of his own free will."
The French President leaned forward:
"This citizen possesses crucial technology.
If you persist, France will consider diplomatic… or even economic measures."
Garmie added:
"And the consequences could go much further."
I smiled — almost amused.
"Economic measures? Sanctions?
Gentlemen… you vastly underestimate Atlantis.
Nothing you threaten concerns me."
I marked a brief pause.
"But since you are so eager to resolve this misunderstanding…
I invite you to Atlantis.
Ask him yourselves whether he wishes to return to France."
Silence fell like a guillotine.
I stood.
"On that note, gentlemen, our discussion is over.
I wish you an excellent day."
I left the room, bitter.
This was only the beginning — the diplomatic battle was far from over.
Once inside the car, I called Natali.
"The meeting was turbulent.
Keep an eye on our man.
Things may get complicated."
I hung up and rubbed my eyes, exhausted.
"Everything alright, sir?" Amarante asked, seated across from me.
"What did you think of the meeting? Speak frankly."
"A waste of time," she replied bluntly.
"And… an overwhelming sense of discomfort."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Discomfort?"
She nodded.
"Yes.
I didn't feel like you belonged in that room."
Her words echoed deeply within me.
"Is this man truly worth so much effort — from you, and from our country?"
she added, genuinely puzzled by my determination to protect a complete stranger.
I gave a faint smile.
"I believe he is…
No — I am certain of it.
Only the future can prove me right."
I leaned back into my seat.
Returning to Atlantis would do me good.
And I hoped I could stay there longer this time.