Chapter 67 — The Last Seed Keeper

The conference room occupied the entire top floor of the Upper Dome, a giant circular space with a transparent glass ceiling that revealed the real sky, unfiltered by any layer of Filter Roof — a display of power that Khe Mien recognized immediately, for only those wealthy enough to build the most sophisticated air filtration systems would dare let the naked sky shine directly down on their heads.

The conference table was arranged in a large circle, with each Dome assigned a separate area marked with its symbol — Khe Mien immediately recognized the green leaf symbol of the Green Dome, next to it was the stylized sun of the Sand Dome, the gray triangle of the Stone Dome, and on the opposite side, a silver-white wave-shaped symbol that she immediately knew belonged to the Salt Dome.

The Stone Dome delegation was already present when they arrived, and Khe Mien felt a familiar tension rising when she realized Wei Ba Cuong was sitting in the representative's seat, his face wearing a new tired wrinkle, and next to him, was not Han Dinh Sang as she feared, but Duong Thi Yen, now wearing a much more formal outfit than the last time they met in the dark corridor of the Stone Dome.

Duong Thi Yen's eyes met Khe Mien's eyes for a brief moment, and in them, Khe Mien read something complicated — guilt, caution, but also a fragile glimmer of hope that she did not dare to express publicly.

The Salt Dome group arrived last, and when Khe Mien saw the leader, a chill ran down her spine—not Confucius Ba Truc, but a tall man with an angular, expressionless face, dressed in black leather armor with corrugated metal trim that Trach Thi Hoa had described with fresh terror in her voice.

"Kich Ba Hoanh," Bach Lam whispered in her ear, confirming what she had already hunched. "He came personally, not a low-ranking messenger."

In addition to the four large Arches, Khe Mien noticed two smaller areas marked at the edge of the conference table, less prominent but still present — a rough pebble-shaped symbol for a place labeled Pebble Dome, and a twisted leaf cluster symbol for Mossy Arch, two names Khe Mien had never heard of before. Their representatives, an older man with a tanned face named Xa Binh Nguyen and a quiet middle-aged woman named Quac Thi Hien, sat crouched in the farthest corner of the room, their eyes carrying the caution of the weak forced to be present in a game where they did not have much of a say. Khe Mien remembered those two faces, a premonition told her that these might be the allies she would need to find, not today, but in the coming days.

The opening ceremony began with solemn ceremony, and when the large door on the opposite side of the conference room opened, a man walked in amid an almost reverential silence from the Upper Dome staff—slime, prematurely gray hair neatly combed, his outfit simple but so exquisitely tailored that it exuded power more clearly than any ostentation.

"Loi Bach Dat, Chairman of the Central Council," Geng Ba Xuan introduced, his voice solemn, and the whole room, despite representatives of many different Domes with strained relationships with each other, stood up in unison in an almost instinctive reflex at his presence.

"Please sit down," Loi Bach Dat said, his voice soft, almost gentle, completely contrary to the image of a cold ruler that Khe Mien had previously envisioned. "We are not gathered here to display any one's power. We are gathered for a far nobler purpose — to protect what remains of humanity after the Great Cataclysm, before we ourselves destroy the rest through war."

Those words, though spoken with a seemingly convincing sincerity, made Khe Mien feel a sharp sense of wariness, for she had learned, through all she had experienced, that the most dangerous people rarely introduced themselves in threatening terms.

"We have watched with profound sadness," Loi Bach Dat continued, his eyes scanning each representative around the conference table, "what has happened in recent months—conflicts escalated between the Domes, small settlements caught up in disputes that were not their own. The Central Council proposed a solution: a Unification Pact, under which every Dome would report and share its resources through a central coordination system. center, ensuring fair distribution and preventing any Arch from hoarding too much and destabilizing the entire region."

A heavy silence filled the conference room as those words were translated into their true meaning in each representative's mind. Khe Mien felt a cold indignation rising in her heart, immediately realizing the true nature of that proposal behind the shell of peaceful words.

“Excuse me, Mr. Chairman,” Cau Baich Thinh spoke up, his voice cautious but not evasive, “but what you just described sounds more like every Arch having to give up its autonomy over its resources to the Central Council, rather than an equal sharing agreement between equal parties.”

"I understand why that might sound like that," Loi Bach Dat replied, undeterred by the objection, his voice still maintaining its original gentleness. "But look at what happened when the Arches acted independently, without coordination — wars, feuds, burned settlements. Sometimes, absolute freedom only leads to absolute chaos."

Khe Mien couldn't hold back anymore, even though she knew every eye in the room, and perhaps even the invisible surveillance devices around her, were watching her. "President," she said, her voice ringing clearly in the silence of the room, "it was the Salt Dome, sitting right here at this table, who started the war you just mentioned—burning down settlements, hunting survivors across the Ashes. If the Central Council really wants peace, why should the first proposal not be to force the Salt Dome to end its military action, but to demand that all the other Domes give up their freedom? my master?"

A palpable tension spread throughout the room, and Kich Ba Hoanh, for the first time since entering, turned his head to look straight at Khe Mien with a cold gaze that did not hide its hostility.

"The Grainkeeper of the Green Dome speaks very bravely," he said, his voice low and even, "for a representative of a small Dome who has nothing to lose in this war but a few plots of farmland."

"We have more to lose than you think," Khe Mien retorted, not backing down despite clearly sensing the danger in his voice. "We have people, like those who lost their homes because of your attack. And we have a belief that justice is not something that can be negotiated for peace."

Loi Bach Dat raised one hand, a gentle gesture but enough to cut through the escalating tension between the two sides. “We will have plenty of time to discuss the details in the coming days,” he said, his voice remaining unwaveringly calm. "Today is just the opening session. I encourage all representatives to keep an open mind, because the only path to true peace sometimes requires sacrifices that we are not initially ready to accept."

When the first session ended and delegates began to leave the conference room, Duong Thi Yen managed to pass by Khe Mien close enough to whisper a short sentence before separating with her group.

“Be careful,” she said, her voice barely audible. "He never made the first offer the one he really wanted."

That sentence hung in Khe Mien's mind all the way back to the rest area, and when she told Bach Lam and the others, the group sat in silence for a long time, trying to understand the full meaning of that warning.

“If the proposed Unification Treaty is just the first step,” Ngan The Binh said finally, his voice thoughtful, “then we need to prepare ourselves for the fact that the next step could be much worse.”

Khe Mien nodded, looking out the window at the falling night sky through the glass of the Upper Dome, clearly sensing that they had just entered a battle completely different from anything she had ever prepared for — not a battle of swords or poisonous sandstorms, but a battle of words, of proposals wrapped in a shell of peace but hiding an absolute control, and she understood that to win this battle, she would need more than courage — she would need the wisdom and solidarity of all those who still dare to believe in a world free from the manipulation of a single center of power.