Chapter 2: A Classified Summit

"Each blaze, a prelude to renewal; the phoenix, an eternal testament to the beauty of endless cycles."

Alan Weir

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Myron Faulke, January 5th, 1963

Myron Faulke checks his watch, noticing how late his contact seems to be.

As the clock ticked past the appointed hour for the critical debriefing, the President couldn't help but feel a creeping unease. Seated behind the polished desk in the Oval Office, the weight of responsibility settled heavily on his shoulders. A sense of urgency permeated the room, heightened by the absence of the agent from the Phoenix Project.

Fingers tapping rhythmically against the mahogany surface, the President's gaze flickered to the ornate timepiece on the wall, its hands seemingly mocking the tardiness. Thoughts swirled in his mind, contemplating the potential repercussions of the delayed debriefing. Was it a mere coincidence, or did it hint at unforeseen complications?

It wouldn't be the first time. Faulke memorized the history of the Phoenix Project when he was inducted into the organization, and it isn't pretty.

The predecessors of the Phoenix Project were either mysteriously killed off, discredited, or suffered some other cataclysmic event that forced the organizations to shut down. The Lei Ming expedition in 1915 China was met with resistance by an unknown party, which tried to erase all evidence of the expedition and kill the explorers. While they were able to escape, their discoveries were ridiculed by the scientific community on the basis that the mummified corpse of a non-human woman they discovered was a fake. The Committee for the Study and Prevention of Species-Level Threats, which operated in the Soviet Union from 1918 to 1927, was shut down by the Soviet Union for investigating the possible existence of alien life and magic, even though they had begun making progress by discovering unknown artifacts from an ancient civilization. The Phoenix Working Group, which operated in the United States from 1935 to 1945, was mysteriously killed off one by one.

Such evidence points to the existence of an organization dedicated to opposing those who seek to know more about the secrets of the world, so it would not be out of place for a key member of the Phoenix Project to meet a gruesome, yet mysterious end.

Faulke's dark thoughts are interrupted by a muted creek, and a figure clad in a tailored suit steps into the room. Faulke shifts his gaze towards his visitor, who slowly closes the door behind him. The atmosphere seemed to shift as his contact, recognized by a name tag, strode purposefully toward the President. He walked with a demeanor that exuded an air of calculated reserve, approaching the President with measured steps. His gaze was steady, revealing years of experience veiled behind a veil of inscrutable professionalism.

"Hello, Mr. President. It's me, Newton Sumrall," the man's voice, calm yet authoritative, booms as it fills the room. "I'm here for the debriefing."

"Very well then," Faulke says as he composes himself. Professionalism is a standard that should be maintained at all times, after all. He can't be seen brooding, not when the Director of the Phoenix Project himself has come to be debriefed by him. "Take a seat."

With an unspoken urgency in his gait, Sumrall navigated toward the designated seat, its positioning strategically aligned for optimal observation and engagement. In one fluid motion, he deftly claimed the chair, executing a controlled descent that conveyed both readiness and intent.

Sumrall's posture bespoke a blend of vigilance and preparedness, the subtle tension in his frame hinting at the depth of the impending exchange. His back remained erect, a testament to unwavering focus, while his hands subtly adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, minute detail in an otherwise composed demeanor.

Taking a seat was not just an action; it was a calculated maneuver, a moment of transition from mobility to poised attentiveness. With a silent nod to the assembled company, Sumrall's presence in the chair resonated with a palpable sense of readiness, signaling his preparedness to divulge the covert revelations that lingered beneath the surface of his composed countenance.

"So, I see that you rebuilt the White House in just a few days," Sumrall began, his voice a blend of curiosity and admiration for the swift restoration of the iconic structure.

Faulke meets Sumrall's gaze with a nod, acknowledging the inquiry. After all, when the Zudjari attacked Washington, they barely left anything behind. The White House was razed to the ground by plasma and Zudjari infiltrators killed President John F. Kennedy and his entire cabinet. There was little left of the city when the Bureau arrived after the war to do a damage assessment. "The reconstruction was a testament to an innovative use of nanofabrication technology," he reveals, casting light on the clandestine method behind the seemingly impossible feat.

"Nanofabricators?" Sumrall's intrigue was palpable as he leaned forward, eager for further explanation.

"Yes, Director Sumrall. These nanofabricators are cutting-edge devices capable of molecular manipulation. They were strategically deployed to reconstruct the White House with remarkable precision and unprecedented speed," the President explains, emphasizing the groundbreaking nature of the technology.

Sumrall's eyes widen as he likely absorbs the implications of this revelation, recognizing the potential significance for national security, disaster recovery, and infrastructure resilience.

"This technology – is it part of your classified advancements?" Sumrall queries, with Faulke, knowing how mindful he is of the sensitivity surrounding such groundbreaking innovations.

Faulke nods, his demeanor composed yet betraying a hint of guarded confidentiality. "Indeed, sir. The nanofabricator technology resides within our most secure research division. We created it using reverse-engineered Zudjari models stolen from their factories during the war."

A sense of awe mingled with strategic contemplation in Sumrall's expression. Faulke can sympathize with Sumrall. When Faulke realized the full capabilities of nanofabrication, he knew that such technology could be easily abused by unsavory groups. As such, he classified the existence of nanofabrication and swore the researchers and others aware of the technology to secrecy on the threat of death (after all, he passed martial law). Yet, such wonderous technology unveiled a vision of the world rebuilding all it lost in the Human-Zudjari War to become more prepared and adaptable, capable of swift recovery from unforeseen catastrophes.

"Thank you, President Faulke. Your insights shed light on the remarkable advancements that underpin our nation's resilience. Keep me apprised of any further developments, and send the schematics and some of your scientists over to our R&D," Sumrall both acknowledges and orders, conveying both gratitude and a sense of the weighty considerations prompted by this revelation.

"Anyways," Faulke interjects, pausing for a moment to decide what to discuss with the Director, before settling on the topic of the climax of the Human-Zudjari War. "I trust that you received my report on Origin and the Ethereal?"

Sumrall frowns. "To be honest, reading it felt more like I was reading a sci-fi novel if anything, but I trust the validity of the information you gave us. Now, are you sure Alan Weir isn't still bonded to the Ethereal?"

Faulke scowls. "I'm unsure. He just said that the Ethereal "left to find his own path" and refused to elaborate further. While I could no doubt extract the information from Weir by force, I do not want to alienate such a valuable asset. His bonding with the Ethereal has given him, and I quote, 'an advanced understanding of the universe.' Sumrall, Weir is the primary reason why we were able to easily reverse-engineer captured Zudjari technology after the war. He's already written equations about gravity waves, anti-matter, and other exotic topics I can't wrap my head around."

Sumrall sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I am not comfortable with such a powerful being running around amok, but I agree with your assessment that we should ensure Weir's loyalty. He's too valuable to lose as an ally, especially now that most of Earth's nations have fallen apart."

Faulke snorts. "That's putting it mildly. Skyscrapers, residential areas, critical facilities, and iconic landmarks lay in ruins, reduced to rubble and debris, and have craters from alien weaponry and the remnants of battles scarring the landscape. There has been a staggering loss of human life, with entire populations decimated, leaving behind scenes of tragedy, mass casualties, and untold suffering. Hospitals, overwhelmed by the influx of wounded, are struggling to provide adequate care to those injured by plasma or laser weapons. Industries, trade routes, and commerce have ground to a halt due to the destruction of infrastructure and disruption of supply chains. Stock markets have crashed, triggering a global financial crisis. Displaced populations, scarcity of resources, and breakdowns in law and order have fueled civil unrest, looting, and refugee crises as survivors struggle to find safety and sustenance. Zudjari weaponry and the Sleepwalker Virus have led to contamination, pollution, and long-term ecological damage, affecting biodiversity and ecosystems. Communications networks, power grids, and advanced technology have been disrupted worldwide, leading to the beginning of a regression in technological capabilities. I'm not even touching how survivors of the war, including my men and women who fought and bled to ensure humanity's victory, are grappling with profound psychological trauma, dealing with grief, PTSD, and the psychological scars of witnessing widespread devastation and the loss of loved ones. To put it frankly, Director, everything is a mess. I'm barely keeping this nation together, and intelligence from agents positioned in California suggests that the state may try to secede from the United States."

Sumrall cringes. "An accurate assessment, President Faulke. The Phoenix Project is already attempting to restore order and provide humanitarian aid across the world, but it's been... slow. People are skeptical about our effectiveness, transparency, and ulterior motives due to how the Phoenix Project is operating without government oversight, as most governments currently do not exist at the time."

Faulke sighs with tired cynicism. "Of course. Our aims, noble as they are, have always collided with a deeply ingrained skepticism in society - a skepticism born from a history of clandestine operations and governmental secrecy."

"I'm personally insulted, to be honest," Sumrall grumbles. "My men and women are working and bleeding day and night to restore order and help feed starving populations, and they complain about it." Sumrall then takes a deep breath, composing himself. "But... I know that they have every right to doubt us. I hope they can find it within themselves to trust us, eventually."

"I hope so," Faulke murmurs. "Our organization must operate with public support so that it isn't met with opposition once nations reform."

"I know," Sumrall says as he looks away from Faulke's eyes, likely remembering the countless times the Phoenix Project's predecessors fell to distrust sown by their unknown enemies.

The room fell into a profound silence, heavy with the weight of unspoken memories of death and destruction lingering between the two men.

Sumrall breaks the silence first, asking a question that Faulke, despite all the years he spent working for the CIA and leading the Bureau of Operations and Command, genuinely feels uncomfortable with. "What happened to Agent William Carter?"

A shadow falls over Faulke's eyes. "He... lost it, to be precise. He tried to kill my team and me, preventing us from destroying Mosaic. Alan Weir chose to spare Carter, but once we got back home and stuck him in a cell, he reverted to his old self-destructive tendencies. I tried to heal him through therapy, but... he ultimately committed suicide. Hung himself with his bed sheets."

Sumrall grimaces. "The man didn't have anything left to live for."

Faulke sorrowfully nods. "You know, I respected him when he was bonded to the Ethereal. He was a charismatic leader, a devoted, decent person who cared about the health and safety of those above and under his command, more than I ever could. I saw who he was before his family died, and I got a front-row seat to witness how broken he was afterward. He was a brilliant man, and in another time, another place, he could have done great things for the world."

Sumrall briefly stays quiet. "You admire him, don't you."

Faulke sighs. "Yes, I suppose I do. He inspired everyone around him to be better, even during times of war."

Sumrall sighs as well. "...when hope fades, and faith crumbles into dust, even the best of us can feel lost forever."

Faulke nods with a grim understanding of Sumrall's thoughts. "No truer words could be ever said."

Sumrall stands up. "Well, I suppose it's time for me to leave. Continue the good work, President Faulke. Tell me if you need anything from the Phoenix Project."

Faulke stands up to shake Sumrall's hand. "It's been a pleasure meeting with you, sir."

Sumrall smiles with a small flicker of hope running through his eyes. "I could say the same thing to you."

As Faulke watches Sumrall leave his room, he contemplates his role in leading his nation toward an unpredictable future.

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Archive: Nanofabrication And It's Evolution

Before the Human-Zudjari War, the concept of nanites, or nanomachines, was primarily confined to the realm of science fiction. In 1959, physicist Richard Feynman delivered a famous lecture titled "There's Plenty of Room at the Bottom," in which he discussed the possibility of controlling individual atoms and building machines at a molecular scale.

Now, what is a nanite? A nanite is a tiny device or robot that operates on the scale of nanometers, which are one billionth of a meter and are smaller than a cell. Such a device is incredibly tiny, often comparable to the size of molecules or individual cells. To provide perspective, a nanometer is approximately 100,000 times smaller than the diameter of a human hair.

Nanites can be used for anything, but their most notable use is in nanofabricators.

Nanofabricators are machines that construct structures, devices, or materials at the nanoscale level, typically ranging from about 1 to 100 nanometers. This process involves the manipulation and assembly of atoms and molecules to construct functional structures with specific properties and functionalities.

After the Human-Zudjari War, the Bureau's R&D took apart and analyzed the nanofabricators agents stole from Zudjari war factories. Leading scientist Alan Weir was able to ascertain their purpose and function. Faulke swiftly used the nanofabricators to aid in the reconstruction of the United States before he shared the revolutionary technology with the Phoenix Project. The Phoenix Project employed nanofabrication to rebuild the many cities destroyed by the Zudjari in just a few weeks, using the rubble to do so.

Zudjari nanofabricators built the desired atomic structure layer by layer using an array of precisely controlled lasers and magnetic fields. Praetor nanofabricators were more refined, using techniques such as quantum levitation, laser cooling, and plasma quenching.

The Ethereals, however, moved beyond the use of nanites in their fabrication technology. Molecular analyzers scanned the raw materials, which were specially formulated to statistically require the least quantum manipulation, and chose which ones to use. Trillions of Heisenberg compensators, the same technology used in teleportation, were used to maintain cohesion while force fields helped the product materialize by laying layer upon layer of individual atoms to create the desired structure.

The Ethereal fabricator was renamed the replicator, and it played a role in ending poverty, disease, and hunger throughout the world after the devastating Second Human-Ethereal War. Traditional agriculture, manufacturing, and distribution almost completely ceased to exist. Money was no longer needed. The last vestiges of capitalism were gone by 2050 after the Phoenix Project reverse-engineered Ethereal replicators.