The Secretary-General finally spoke, her voice measured but resolute. "You've made your position clear. But what you describe as a 'safety net' sounds to many of us like a leash. You say you nurture diversity, but who decides what gets pruned? How do we know that this framework you describe is truly for our benefit?"

Evtalo smiles "That's the fun part. Science decides what is pruned. Evidential reasoning... and the scientific method are our primary methods of debate... and decision making. Along with a bit of creativity. Sure we don't get everything right, but we have been running for a while, and are unlikely to get something wrong." They notice Talex turn to her, and say something in the alien language. She... pauses... thinks, and says something in the alien language back.

Talex nods, and steps up saying "However... don't get this confused with pure science... as you call it. In reality... we are so advanced in philosophy, we understand how emotions form in the brain, and see it as understandable. How the hell do you think a human can read a person's emotions, and know how to be moral. It may be hard to describe scientifically... but not impossible, and our system does that. Sure... all things fail, it's idiotic not to consider failure. We just... adapt, and change the system. The UUM... is like a living organism... adapting to everything. You are systems yourself... that is proven by the simple fact you exist. Get over yourselves. Systems are messy, complicated... and yet... can function. Heh... anyway, don't let that hold you back. Reality is lovely, and honestly... attempting to make heaven on earth... or in your lives is the most logical thing in the world."

The Secretary-General's gaze remained steady, though the weight of the moment was clear in her expression. She leaned into the microphone, her voice measured but firm. "You speak of systems, of adaptability, of morality as a science. But science can be flawed. Systems can fail. If your framework decides we're a threat, how do we defend ourselves? How do we maintain our autonomy?"

Evtalo says "Well... so? Honestly, why should we consider you a threat. You're not one, simple as that. The UUM's government agrees. Besides, our scientific community becomes a entire political force in our system. If you disagree with a decision... prove it's wrong. Debate us... intellectually." She pauses, and then says "It's hard for you however... as your scientific community is small compared to us. But here is the thing. One genius... one idea... that proves us wrong... and the entire UUM change just... like *Snap* that." She snaps her finger.

The... room goes quiet, as murmurs, and conversations fill the room. Evtalo says "anyway... that is your introduction into the UUM. Also... the only reason we interfered with your planet, and even made contact... was again... just because we detected you, and you saw something... beyond your level. Though the latter was a smaller factor. In fact..." she turns her head, looking at Atanda, "Atanda here is even here... helping because he caused us to learn about you, and him damaging your moon... cause our leadership to decide it was best he was personally involved in your introduction.

The Secretary-General leaned into her microphone, her voice steady but sharp. "You say your system adapts, that one idea can change everything. But what if we don't have the resources to engage with you on that level? What happens to civilizations that can't keep up?"

Evtalo's device translated her faint smile, and her voice came through calm and unwavering. "Then they learn. They grow. Progress takes time, and we are patient. You are not a threat to us, but that doesn't mean you are irrelevant. You will have the tools to rise to our level if you are willing to embrace the challenge."

Talex swished his tail lazily, his glowing blue pupils narrowing slightly. "Or don't," he said, his tone almost mocking. "But if you don't, don't be surprised when the universe moves on without you."

The... room goes quiet, as murmurs, and conversations fill the room. Evtalo says "Anyway... that is your introduction into the UUM done... for now. Also... the only reason we came to your planet, and even made contact... was again... just because we detected you, and you saw something... beyond your level. Though the latter was a smaller factor. If we detected you passively, we would still monitor you. In fact..." she turns her head, looking at Atanda, "Atanda is here... helping because he caused us to learn about you, and him damaging your moon... cause our leadership to decide it was best he was personally involved in your introduction."

The Secretary-General leaned into her microphone, her voice calm but probing. "You've admitted that Atanda's actions brought you here, and that his mistake made this contact necessary. Does that mean we're an obligation to you? Or do you see value in our civilization beyond this... mistake?"

Evtalo's device translated her faint smile, and her voice came through steady and composed. "Obligation, value—these are human terms. We see potential. Every civilization has it. The UUM exists to nurture that potential, to ensure it is not wasted or destroyed. Atanda's actions brought you to our attention, yes. But your actions, your culture, your ingenuity—that is why we are here. If let's say... a regular old probe passed by your planet, and found you. Then... we would have done an introduction as well. It's how we work."

She pauses before saying "Regardless... i'm sure you recorded everything. I will have Talex send you some documents online for light reading, and make a official UUM website on your local internet... yes." She pauses considering, "We do have a version of the internet, but with a larger scale, and more... law. Yes... it's just as filled with jokes as your own. So we get that aspect of your culture. Diversity naturally breeds what you see online. That... the internet you have is like a small scale model of what happens when you have millions of diverse cultures mixing.

Anyway... We do not demand you agree to join the UUM now. You do not meet requirements yet. Furthermore you have no idea. So for now, we will just be in your skies, or on your surface here, and there. Talking, learning, and showing ourselves to you. That is all our activities will be for the moment. Beyond that... i will give some basic terminology for scale. Your C-class designation. It's from what we call the Civilization Progress Level. Its a loose thing, that primarily affects a few laws, though... laws are just as important as their exceptions. F-class is a species or civilization that is pre-medieval, but shows language, and can be classed as sentient, and forming tribes at minimum. D-class is a civilization that is medieval, or pre-industrial. C-class is anything higher... that simply does not know of the UUM's existence. While B class is defined as a developing civilization that knows of the UUM, and has begun integration with it. You are still C... as all we are doing is talking right now. A class... and above do not need to be discussed at your current stage. Regardless... i've talked a lot, you all talked a little. As such... i think we need to leave you to think for a time. As we revealed more about the larger structure beyond your planet, then you have ever learned before. As such... we will be taking our leave for the moment. We will organize another meeting... how about next year, same day. Anyway... we will go. Hope it was enlightening." The words filled the entire hall... as people realized... They were leaving. As the constant... surprise, and knowledge dumps over, and over. Everyone is tired. Except the aliens. Though they do seem a little bored, and tired of speaking. The fox sighs, and gets up, says "See ya, got to go do some hacking and make a website", and then... enters a nearby TV in an instant, with a blue beam of energy. While the deer, and... Evtalo walked to the exit. The deer tilted its head to get under. Evtalo gets on her small ship, and flies up, before a wormhole forms very quickly, and instantly transports away both Evalto, and the deer. It does this via the wormhole moving forward, swallowing the two... not them moving into it.

August 18th, 2026. Late-Noon, and beyond. The broadcast of the UN meeting sent tremors across every corner of the globe, forcing billions of people to grapple with what it meant to live in a universe where cosmic powers like the UUM existed just beyond the boundary of our everyday world. In the immediate aftermath, a whirlwind of debates, social media posts, and impromptu discussions erupted in cafés and living rooms everywhere. Some people were exhausted from the emotional highs and lows of seeing the moon's cracks flash onscreen and hearing Evtalo calmly declare that the UUM had been watching Earth for some time. Others were invigorated, claiming that humanity had just received the biggest wake-up call in its entire history.

As days turned into weeks, a rough divide emerged in public opinion. On one end of the spectrum stood the Pro-UUM supporters. On the other hand, the Anti-UUM crowd. Yet a massive number of people found themselves somewhere in between—hesitant, curious, fearful, and hopeful, all at once. Though it was tempting to categorize everything neatly, real life was messy. Many who leaned Pro-UUM still held a lurking seed of doubt, while those who called themselves Anti-UUM often conceded that the aliens seemed sincere in wanting to help. The fracturing of opinion was large, yet the lines themselves were blurred and shifting. In a sense, that fractured reality became a direct reflection of humanity's tangled emotions when facing something so immense and unprecedented.

Those who proudly declared themselves Pro-UUM were often motivated by an unshakable sense of logic. They looked at the data—observing how Evtalo and her companions could have forcibly taken over but instead offered discussion. They considered how Atanda had willingly repaired the Moon's fractures, apparently out of a sense of responsibility, rather than simply letting Earth face the consequences of a cosmic battle. In their eyes, these were not the actions of a malevolent force. Quite a few prominent intellectuals and scientists used their public platforms to advocate for trusting the UUM until proven otherwise. A frequent statement was, "You do not show off your ability to crack the Moon if your goal is stealth invasion." The action was so overt, so dramatic, that it hardly fit the blueprint of a civilization bent on subjugation. Instead, it looked more like a demonstration of what was possible, followed by a genuine desire to fix the accidental damage.

One influential figure in this Pro-UUM movement was Neil deGrasse Tyson, who famously said, "If you were powerful enough to crack the Moon like an egg, and then fix it at will, you'd hardly need to play politics if you wanted to enslave humanity. You'd just do it." His words resonated deeply, as they cut to the heart of many people's biggest anxieties. If the UUM really wanted to conquer Earth, they could have done it easily, and it would have happened far more quickly. Instead, the aliens engaged in an odd blend of cosmic showmanship—circling global landmarks, addressing the UN, discussing advanced moral frameworks. To the Pro-UUM camp, that spoke of a civilization that valued dialogue over brute force, that used its power carefully, albeit with a certain disregard for humanity's emotional comfort.

It also wasn't lost on the Pro-UUM supporters that the UUM presented itself as inclusive and open. Evtalo's otherworldly yet oddly relatable presence, Talex's flippant sense of humor, and Atanda's stoic strength offered a kaleidoscope of personalities under one collective banner. This inspired a surge of empathy from marginalized communities who saw the UUM's diversity as symbolic. Trans activists, for instance, pointed to Evtalo's blend of angelic feathers and floating eyes as a living testament that identity could transcend traditional human norms. Furries latched onto Talex's foxlike form, seeing it as validation that anthropomorphic identities weren't just imaginative flights of fancy—but could, in some cosmic sense, represent genuine life forms. Even among body-modification communities, the existence of the deer with glowing fog and advanced technology felt like a promise: in a universe so vast and varied, there was space for everyone to be themselves. The idea that the UUM literally "didn't care if you're a deer who can manipulate purple fog" hinted at a society that embraced difference rather than suppressed it.

Scientists in particular leaned toward Pro-UUM arguments for pragmatic reasons. They recognized that any civilization advanced enough to manipulate wormholes, control gravitational anomalies, and maintain a stable interstellar alliance would be near-impossible for humans to resist militarily. In their eyes, it made sense to approach these beings diplomatically. They recalled the fox's quip about hacking Earth's entire internet in a matter of hours—if such feats were possible, then continuing hostility would be not only pointless but self-destructive. Beyond that, many scientists were genuinely curious. What if cooperating with the UUM was a pathway to solving existential problems on Earth, such as climate change or resource scarcity? The UUM's demonstration of raw power, coupled with a willingness to talk, provided hope that Earth might gain unprecedented knowledge—though, of course, some worried about the balance between help and dependency.

But then there was the Anti-UUM side, forming something of a counterpoint to all that optimistic logic. Skepticism often stemmed from a fear of the unknown. If the UUM's power was so overwhelming, who was to say they weren't cleverly orchestrating a slow takeover? Could Evtalo's ethereal kindness be an act? Could the cosmic show of repairing the Moon be just a trick to lure Earth into complacency? A talk show host with a reputation for conspiratorial rants thundered, "They want us to beg for their help! Mark my words, once we're addicted to their technology, they'll tighten the leash!" He pointed to historical examples where technologically advanced powers colonized less advanced societies under the guise of "help." To him, and many like him, the lesson was clear: never trust an entity with vastly superior strength when it claims to have your best interests at heart.