Evtalo took center stage nodding and saying in slightly broken English, and a weird accent. "Me, and my companions spent time learning your language over the last year. Talax, due to his nature, learns incredibly fast, and during his first hour on your internet learned it. I still need to learn it better, and Atanda speaks through a thought to a speech translator regardless. You surely know of our actions this year, and I hope it's enough... to establish a foundation of trust, and acceptance of our process. Along with that... congratulations, you have moved to stage 2. As you now understand, and accept the UUM's nature, and existence. At least mostly. You even understand some basics of our government. As well as that... you all understand perfectly well our integration process with that rather clear document we gave you." They remember it well. Frowning... the entire reason they are in stage 2... is they shared a document on how their government works... and then shared their interaction process... all its legal definitions, and realized we qualify for stage 2... just because we know the basics of their government. Many in the room have a printed copy, as it was not a particularly long document. She then paused. Letting her words sink in.

She then continued as she said "While... we understand. You are afraid. Afraid of our diversity overshadowing your own. Afraid of your culture mixing... merging to become something unrecognizable. Afraid we will wipe you out in an instant for something stupid. We will not destroy you. We assure you... it's not as bad as you think it is. Furthermore... our current actions will have no effects of culture mixing, and that is only a worry once fully integrated. Stage 2... as you can read in our document... can be described as one thing... guidance. Active, practical guidance. Or as we call it... intervention. This intervention... will be targeted at one specific thing. dysfunction... dysfunction that holds you back from progress. As well as... one other thing... lifting... inspiration. We have organized key technologies for you to deconstruct, to learn about the world more."

Many in the room notice... her eyes... moving to look... focus upon several nation representatives that... are known to be tyrants, and immoral by the general public.

She then says "This... may mean... that there are some changes in global order... and your structures. But... it will be due... to necessary... moral intervention. As we apply the law of beings to your civilization, to teach you our expectations. As well... as help you remove... dysfunction that you find hard, or intensive to fix yourselves. Yes... we will not fix everything... That is your job. You need to develop systems that fix yourselves, and become your own idea... of utopia to the best of your capacities. However..." She pauses.

She then says "Some beings... out there have their own idea... of a utopia... a utopia... for only themselves. That... is simply something incompatible with us... something... that must, and will be changed. Something that will fight us, whether we want it or not. Misalignments... will exist between you, and us. Ones that will fight us, in major, or small ways. Some ways are so small... you won't even sense it. Some are so big... it results in large scale divides. But... There are just as many alignments as misalignments out there. Many things we simply are compatible, or neutral with. That we can coexist with." A steady... existential silence fills the room.

Talax cuts in... "Also... just so you know. We honestly could care less about most of your culture. Only when we talk about misalignment... that needs intervention. We are talking about easy to see... harmfulness to others. Just... morality. You can't agree with a murdering psycho who sees a utopia where farms exist for him to murder more, and forever. While an extreme example, even lesser evils... will lead to dysfunction, and could... eventually lead to harm to the UUM."

Evtalo then pauses. Giving humanity a chance to speak. For once, they are giving them a chance to speak on there terms, rather then humanity just... trying to find a place to cut in. Evtalo remained perfectly still, the golden eyes orbiting her like slow-moving satellites. Watching. Listening. And yet, if the response was too combative, if it was too resistant, it might escalate into something worse. Many had seen the fear in the eyes of certain delegates—the ones who now knew they were living on borrowed time. If they spoke first, if they lashed out, it could turn this moment from diplomatic negotiation into something far more dangerous.

Secretary-General Maria Esposito spoke first. "...I want to acknowledge," she began carefully, her voice steady, "that your presence here today, and your willingness to communicate with us so directly, is something we do not take for granted." A neutral opening. Not weak, not aggressive. "You've made your intentions very clear," Esposito continued, picking her words with precision. "You believe that there are dysfunctions in our world that require intervention. That our systems, as they currently stand, are inadequate in ways that conflict with your laws, your expectations." She hesitated, just for a fraction of a second. Say it, say the thing everyone in this room is thinking. "You've stated that this will happen. That changes to our global order will come, whether we resist them or not." At this, some of the more authoritarian delegates bristled. A few shifted in their seats, small movements of discomfort or frustration. But no one interrupted. "So my question, on behalf of humanity, is this." She finally locked eyes with Evtalo—or at least the space where her eyes should have been. "To what extent do we have a say in what comes next?"

Evtalo smiled... for once. "That is the correct question. We want diversity, as diversity is strength. So we want you to be your own... version of paradise. Best you can make it, even if it takes time, and you never fully achieve it, its expected. Even the UUMis not a perfect paradise. We make fences around cliffs... you walk within those fences. You build within then, gold. That is what you have a say in. Interventions are not just about removing the bad, and building those fences. Its about... giving you the tools to build your own fences. About giving you the tools to make your own gold. As well as to know how to terraform those cliffs to flat land to make more space for gold. Sorry, for my analogy. But that should explain the UUM's stance, and where your room to act is."

President Liang Wen of China was the first to break the silence. His face was unreadable, but his hands, neatly folded on the table before him, were tense. His voice was as carefully measured as ever.

"You speak of fences, of cliffs, of gold," he said. "But the world is not one people. We are not one culture, nor one belief system. How do you ensure that these fences—" he tapped the table lightly for emphasis, "—are drawn in ways that do not privilege one people's idea of 'morality' over another's?"

Evtalo smile went down. As she said "No one is one pepole. Nationallity is only as good as where the lines between individuality is drawn. Systems are for the indidivual. Nothing more, nothing less. If a system fails, you change it. If said system fights back... it a cancer. Like a bodies own cells turning to live for themselves rather then for the human they make up. Systems are not larger then individuals, there smaller then individuals. They are for individiuals." 

President Orlov of Russia finally leaned forward, his voice quiet, but laced with a kind of slow, calculated danger. "You speak as though systems are disposable," he said. "As though the structures we have built for centuries—our traditions, our identities—are just... parts of a machine to be replaced at will. But people do not live in theory, Evtalo. They live in reality. And in reality, systems are not just for individuals. They are the glue that holds them together."

Evtalo smiles with a bit of malace, as if playing a game she knows she will win. "Yes, but those systems, traditions, nationalities. Were made by small tribes to keep them alive, and just evolved from there. They change every step of the way. Systems... are nessesary for morality, but systems can evolve to no longer reflect the individual, and become a cancer, or disfunction that must be fixed. A system that is no longer working for its design goals, is no longer a working system. Simple as that. They can be glue, but the glue must be flexable, and change as new knowledge, insites, and falures come up. Goverment, systems. Are nothing but a science, a system to improve indefentely. Even if there is some cayous the short-term. If you are smart, if you use science, you can limit that cayous to very small amounts."

Orlov leaned forward slightly, voice smooth and deliberate. "You speak as though history is nothing but a sequence of experiments. As though nations, cultures, civilizations, are simply... variables to be adjusted." His eyes narrowed. "But there is something you fail to understand. People do not live in abstractions. They do not wake up each morning asking how best to optimize the world. They wake up to their identities, to their histories, to their realities—and those are not things that can be discarded like old equations."

He let the words settle for just a moment before continuing, his voice low and edged with a quiet challenge.

"You say systems must serve the individual. But individuals do not exist in a void. They exist inside those systems. And if you tear them down too quickly, too violently—if you decide that you know better than the people who have lived in them for generations—you do not create progress." He paused, gaze sharp. "You create ruin."

Orlov leaned forward slightly, voice smooth and deliberate. "You speak as though history is nothing but a sequence of experiments. As though nations, cultures, civilizations, are simply... variables to be adjusted." His eyes narrowed. "But there is something you fail to understand. People do not live in abstractions. They do not wake up each morning asking how best to optimize the world. They wake up to their identities, to their histories, to their realities—and those are not things that can be discarded like old equations."

He let the words settle for just a moment before continuing, his voice low and edged with a quiet challenge.

"You say systems must serve the individual. But individuals do not exist in a void. They exist inside those systems. And if you tear them down too quickly, too violently—if you decide that you know better than the people who have lived in them for generations—you do not create progress." He paused, gaze sharp. "You create ruin."

Talax smiles, and gesters, as he takes the stage from Evtalo, and Evtalo backs down, with a polite wave of her hand, and a smile that says 'we are winning, you are wrong', 100% confidence.

Talax says "You are right, people do not live in abstractions. Abstractions are tools for understanding the infinite complexity of reality. You act as if there is two buttons. Keep your idiogies, religions, cultures, and nationalities close. Or... let them go. We are not even asking you to let go of any of that. We are saying... that things will change. Reality is a cruel mother, one that will make things change, and eventually, in infinite, things will change for the worse, and if you are not your most productive self. You will... fail. You will die. So control the change, control your enviorment, and control this, and that. But... know when not to control, as reality is more complex then being a fucking control freak. You need to know when to be hands off, let pepole do as they please, and often... you can be very, very hands off, and it will be good to you. Make some abstrations, make your systems better, remove disfunction, and remove cancers. Because..."He pauses, as his gase moves to the projector, as it shows... pepole suffering in rusha, many sceans of death, pain, and more. "That is the alternitive. Individuals suffer when systems do not adapat. Individuals suffer when they are not taught to adapt, but that suffering will go when then learn to adapt. That... is reality... that is all there is."

Orlov knew he had lost the exchange. But that didn't mean he was done fighting. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned back in his seat, measuring his response. He could feel the eyes of the world on him. And so he did what men like him did best. He twisted the narrative. He let out a slow breath and gave a slight, knowing smile. "It is a convenient thing, is it not?" His voice was smooth, casual, almost amused. "To choose suffering as your image. To show dysfunction so blatantly, as though that is all there is to see." He gestured vaguely. "But you did not show our strength. You did not show the order that sustains us. You present a choice, Talax, as though it is between suffering and some utopian dream."

His smile thinned, but his eyes gleamed with challenge. "But what of the cost?" He let the question settle, let it linger in the minds of those listening. "You speak of adaptation. But adaptation is not painless. Evolution does not ask if you are ready—it only asks if you can survive. You would remake the world, but have you counted the bodies that will be left behind? How many will suffer in the process? How many will be lost in your correction?"

Talax... laughed. A bright, sharp sound, as if Orlov had just told the funniest joke in the universe. Some delegates stiffened. Some flinched. Others just watched, wide-eyed. Talax shook his head, still grinning, his tail flicking playfully. "You are so predictable," he mused. "Loss?" His voice was softer now, but so much heavier. "You want to talk about loss? Acitivate Holonanite display. You know what to show."

The room filled with a cold air. As they saw... WW2. Bombs, death distruction. Then they saw a modern conflict. Clear text in the center saying the time, location, place, and more. Showing... this... this was live. As we saw pepole die, children starve, and more.

Talax's voice did not rise, did not waver. It was quiet. "Do not speak to me of loss when the world you have built already spills blood by the millions. Do not speak to me of order when that order is maintained with fear. Do not speak to me of strength when your so-called power is bought with the suffering of those who never chose it." Talax's glowing eyes swept across the assembly, and when he spoke again, his voice was the voice of inevitability itself. "The difference between us, Orlov," he said, "is that we count the bodies before we act... And you?" His tail flicked, and the images faded. "You only count them when they're already in the ground."