Chapter 170: Meeting With The Governor 3

The main elevator glided to a silent halt, and with a soft chime, the glass doors slid open. Ethan stepped out, boots landing on an obsidian floor so polished it mirrored the ceiling. Every step left a faint echo, swallowed almost immediately by the oppressive quiet of the corridor. Soft, ambient lighting traced the hallway's edges, casting a golden glow that highlighted the surreal opulence of the space. It felt deliberately designed to overwhelm, every detail meticulously curated to remind visitors of the sheer power and wealth of those who occupied the upper floors.

The air smelled faintly floral, something engineered, not natural. The fragrance was subtle but unmistakable, a synthetic blend that lingered just enough to feel unnatural. Manufactured perfection. Like the hotel itself was trying to convince people it belonged to another realm entirely, untouched by the war and destruction that still scarred the city below.

The walls were lined with holo-sculptures, slowly shifting and morphing as Ethan passed. Abstract shapes stretched and folded, melting into new forms in an endless loop of fluid motion. Some twisted into fleeting approximations of human faces, dissolving into spirals before he could fully register them. Art that refused to be still, as restless as the people who commissioned it.

Ethan barely spared them a glance.

What caught his attention instead were the troopers.

They stood like statues, flanking the hallway in immaculate armor that gleamed under the lights. The suits were a fusion of matte and polished plating, designed as much for intimidation as protection. Every piece fit seamlessly, with no visible seams or fastenings. The kind of high-grade tech probably reserved for elite Federation forces, he thought. Their black-glass visors reflected Ethan's image as he approached, warping his silhouette like a funhouse mirror, stretching and distorting him into something almost unrecognizable.

They didn't speak. Didn't move. Didn't so much as shift their weight. Yet their presence was suffocating, an invisible pressure that made the air feel heavier. They radiated controlled violence, the quiet, restrained kind that was more dangerous than open hostility. Soldiers who didn't need to posture or threaten because their entire existence was a warning.

Ethan stopped without thinking, planting his feet shoulder-width apart. He spread his arms slightly, fingers relaxed, palms facing down. A posture he'd fallen into a hundred times before. Not surrender, just understanding. A silent acknowledgment of protocol.

He knew the drill.

There was no point in resisting it.

These soldiers weren't here to be impressed by him. They didn't care about the headlines of his exploits or the speeches in his honor down in the city square. It didn't matter how many times he'd saved Kynara, how many battles he'd survived, or how many people called him a hero. To them, he was just another variable to be controlled. Another body that could carry threats hidden in bone and blood.

For the people guarding a door like this, reputation was irrelevant.

Only risk mattered.

Ethan stood perfectly still, letting the weight of their gaze settle on him. They weren't rushing. Weren't careless. They let the silence stretch, watching him as though the act of waiting itself was part of the screening process.

He didn't flinch. Didn't speak. Just waited.

He wasn't in a hurry, and neither were they.

A low hum vibrated through the air, resonating faintly in Ethan's bones as a hidden scanner activated. A soft blue light bloomed around him, crawling over every inch of his body like a living thing. It traced the lines of his face, the angles of his shoulders, the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. The scanner lingered for a fraction longer around his ribs, his wrists, the back of his neck, key points where people liked to hide subdermal implants or smuggled tech. The light flickered, subtly shifting in intensity as it mapped out his biological signature, reading his vitals, and checking for anomalies. If Ethan had a single stray molecule out of place, this thing would find it.

He didn't move.

A faint whirring sound echoed from the wall, and a spherical security drone detached itself from a recessed compartment, floating out with eerie precision. Its glossy surface reflected the ambient lighting as it began to orbit Ethan in slow, methodical loops. The drone emitted a faint, nearly imperceptible pulse as it swept him with electromagnetic waves. Ethan felt a subtle tingle ripple across his skin. not painful, just enough to remind him that he was being scanned down to the microscopic level. The drone's sensors would be searching for hidden devices, implanted nanotech, or energy sources that couldn't be detected through conventional means. Even dormant tech, shut down and shielded, wouldn't escape its scrutiny.

Next came the mist.

A barely audible hiss filled the space as a thin vapor sprayed from the ceiling, cold and sterile against his clothes. It evaporated almost instantly, leaving no trace behind at least to the human eye. The particles would cling to every fiber, though, and the sensors embedded in the walls would analyze them in real-time, checking for microscopic residues of weapons, explosives, or banned substances. Anything he'd touched in the last forty-eight hours, no matter how carefully scrubbed away, would show up in the analysis.

The troopers watched, motionless as statues, their black-glass visors reflecting the entire invasive process like unblinking eyes. They didn't flinch, didn't speak, didn't break formation. They just waited.

Then, one of them finally stepped forward.

Their movements were precise, almost clinical, as they began a physical search. They started at his shoulders, running gloved hands down the seams of his jacket, fingers pressing firmly but not roughly. They checked the cuffs, tugging slightly to make sure nothing was stitched into the fabric. The trooper worked their way down, patting along Ethan's torso, meticulously checking for any hidden compartments or thinly layered tech that might evade the scanners. They knelt, sliding their hands along the outer edges of his boots, fingers probing the soles and laces.

It was invasive to the point of absurdity.

Ethan didn't flinch. Didn't even blink.

He just stood there, arms slightly raised, shoulders squared, face unreadable.

He'd walked through security checks more times than he could count. The first time in the Kynaran Federation Guard Force, it had rattled him, the sheer thoroughness of it all, albeit less than now. Back then, he'd worried the scanners might pick up something they weren't supposed to. Some lingering echo of the energy that had dragged him into this universe. Some fragment of whatever cosmic fluke had rewritten his existence.

But now?

It was just protocol.

Another meaningless obstacle to get through.

The lead trooper finally nodded, stepping back into formation. The blue light dimmed, fading back into the walls like it had never been there. The drone retracted with a quiet hiss, vanishing into its hidden compartment. The hallway returned to its previous state of sterile, almost oppressive stillness as if nothing had happened at all.

"You're clear," the trooper said, voice muffled through the helmet's modulator. The words carried no weight, no hint of respect or acknowledgment. Just a statement of fact.

Ethan lowered his arms, rolling his shoulders to loosen the stiff muscles. His voice dripped with dry amusement as he muttered, "Of course I am."

He resisted the urge to add, I always am.

Because it wouldn't matter.

Before he could take another step, something else slid into view. This time, a sleek, humanoid attendant drone. It glided forward on silent propulsion, its body an elegant fusion of polished metal and seamless design. The surface reflected the hallway's golden glow like a distorted mirror, rippling and warping the surrounding light with every subtle shift in angle. The drone's limbs were long and slender, moving with an eerie grace that was almost too smooth, too precise to feel natural.

Its head was featureless, an elongated curve without any recognizable facial features. No eyes, no mouth, just a faintly glowing strip of light where a gaze might have been. The soft glow pulsed gently, in perfect rhythm with the steady hum of its propulsion system, as if mimicking the rhythm of breathing.

The drone inclined its head slightly in greeting, the movement unsettlingly human. It wasn't a mechanical tilt but something more fluid, almost practiced like it had studied human gestures for years and distilled them into something just close enough to be familiar, yet far enough to be alien.

"Security clearance verified," it said, its voice polished and warm, meticulously engineered to be pleasant to human ears. It carried a carefully crafted blend of professionalism and friendliness, but the perfection of it made it unnerving, like an actor trying too hard to sound natural. "Captain Ethan Walker, it's an honor to meet you. Please follow me."

Ethan blinked, momentarily thrown by the absurdity of it all.

He snorted, rubbing his temple as a dry laugh escaped him.

"Of course it is," he muttered under his breath.

It was exasperating and hilarious all at once. He wasn't even surprised anymore, almost everyone he met since that final battle had made a habit of shoving that weird reverence in his face. First, it was people. Now, even the machines thought meeting him was some kind of privilege. He half-expected the doors to start bowing next.

"Great," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Add it to the list of things I didn't ask for."

The drone didn't react. Either it hadn't registered his comment, or it was deliberately ignoring him, both possibilities equally unimportant. It simply turned and began gliding down the hallway, its movements so fluid it looked like it was floating through water. Its limbs barely moved, and yet it propelled itself forward with an effortless momentum, never making a sound.

Ethan sighed, stretching his shoulders before falling into step behind it.

The corridor stretched out endlessly, the soft glow of the holo-sculptures shifting in the corner of his vision. The drone maintained a steady pace, never once hesitating or faltering, navigating the corridor with the perfect precision of something that never doubted its surroundings. The way it moved, like it belonged there, like it was part of the building itself, only added to the surreal atmosphere.

Ethan shoved his hands into his pockets and followed, the echo of his footsteps the only thing reminding him he was still flesh and blood.