At this moment, the veneer tears.
And beneath the veneer of truth, all that remains is flesh, blood, veins, and nerves.
Mother Ceres operates through words. Words so concrete that there is no moral anesthesia. She trades everyone's feelings for lead.
It was a fascinating horror.
A cosmic terror expressed in words.
A terror turned inside out.
Instead of looking away, everyone wanted to look. They admired the horror because, for the first time, someone was showing them what they normally refused to see.
Darkness was not the absence of light.
It was what we refused to look at.
Mother Ceres merely showed it.
She did not judge.
Everyone would do as they pleased with those revelations. Everyone would carry their own weights and measures.
She showed them the bottom of the abyss.
And pushed everyone into it.
And the worst part:
everyone loved it.
It was inverted cosmic horror.
Mother Ceres resembled a forensic pathologist.
She examined the body of freedom. Exposed its nerves. Its blood. Its open skull.
— Where is it?
Freedom.
Like a forensic pathologist, Mother Ceres found the nerve where it hurt the most. She showed where freedom had felt the pain in its stomach because responsibility had failed to feed it.
This was not an interview.
It was a ritual.
A moral and spiritual autopsy, filmed, dated, and witnessed by millions.
Mother Ceres would close the body.
And then deliver her verdict.
As if to say:
We were the ones who killed freedom.
It was as though everyone's skin had fallen to the floor.
As though someone had poured salt, lemon juice, and vinegar over their exposed flesh.
But no one felt any pain.
There, everyone traded their feelings for lead.
Mother Ceres operated without anesthesia.
And everyone applauded her in their minds.
Because doing such a thing physically would have been ridiculous.
Render felt his blood pressure rising.
He loosened his luxury tie.
For an instant, a small label appeared:
MADE IN CERES.
It happened quickly.
But everyone noticed.
Mother Ceres had won all of this without raising a weapon.
Without death.
Without victims.
Only the inevitable.
— Mother...
Render picked up a glass of water and drank.
He took a breath.
— About sexuality... we see that many people still repress this aspect of themselves. How does it work in Ceres?
Ceres tilted her head slightly.
— Render, my son... sexuality has nothing to do with character.
A pause.
— My children have their own interests. And, Render... don't you see the irony of Ceres as a world?
She looked at him.
— We care more about efficiency and function. My children work six hours a day. They have leisure time, doctors, gyms, six meals a day, clean clothes, and a city built for them.
— What my children do in private is their own business, as long as there is respect and boundaries.
She smiled discreetly.
— I only need children to have a nation.
A pause.
— And my children give me that with pride.
Render pressed on.
— Mother, there are legends about you all across the continent. Is it true that you carry a belt to beat your more rebellious children? Have you ever played the part of an old-fashioned mother?
Ceres answered immediately:
— Yes. I have one... and I give out sandal whacks, too!
She laughed.
For a moment, everyone burst into laughter.
In the background, Amós let out a particularly funny laugh—of all people, the most serious man in the room.
Everyone laughed again.
Koee laughed and hid her face.
Ysa merely smiled faintly.
— Joking aside... I don't do that, Hermes.
Ceres looked at Amós.
— Heads of state have to behave themselves. But sometimes, Amós deserves a spanking or two...
Everyone laughed again.
Even Amós.
Render took a deep breath.
— Mother... we heard your stomach growling.
Ceres didn't miss a beat.
— In C major.
The room erupted in laughter.
Render smiled, slightly bewildered.
The direction of the interview changed completely in just a few seconds.
Behind the scenes, the directors watched the audience ratings soar.
Render lost his train of thought for a moment.
He knew the sharp questions he had prepared by heart.
But Ceres had just turned everything into something else.
He decided to change the direction of the interview.
— Mother... is there corruption in Ceres?
Ceres thought for a moment.
— I cannot deny that it exists.
She looked at Render.
— You know, Hermes, my son... there are three kinds of dictators.
A pause.
— The savage ones, whom we already know.
— The domesticated ones, whom we choose.
— And the worst of them all...
Ceres smiled discreetly.
— The flatterers.
The atmosphere grew serious again.
— Flatterers are the worst.
A harvest does not need praise to grow.
A function does not flatter itself.
A function gets done.
Or it doesn't.
— I don't live on praise. I live on function and bread on the table.
Ceres looked at Amós.
— Our positions are not fed by egos. They are fed by the work they do for Ceres.
She gestured discreetly toward him.
— Take Amós, our diplomat. He is not simply an employee or a politician of Ceres.
Amós remained motionless.
— Amós is Ceres, both inside and outside Ceres. Incorruptible, fearless, and unwavering in his commitment to Ceres's destiny.
A brief pause.
— He is me, both inside and outside Ceres.
Ceres turned her eyes back to Render.
— I won't deny that there are forms of corruption in Ceres. There are offenses.
— But they are so minor that we assess whether they actually matter.
Render remained attentive.
— Even so, we cut them off at the root when they begin to grow into bigger problems.
— There are situations in which we shouldn't use the system to crush something that isn't even capable of growing.
— Sludge and slime, fungi... they are part of nature.
— Minor offenses that do not alter the system are irrelevant when compared with greater things.
Ceres smiled.
— I'm Mother. I know everything.
— I know when someone steals my wallet.
A pause.
— And I will act when they least expect it.
— I know when one of my daughters is pregnant, even before she tells me.
Render remained silent.
— It isn't punishment they fear.
Ceres looked directly at him.
— It's losing their sense of belonging.
— It's losing their purpose.
— It's losing their place at the table with Mother.
— Mother... let's talk about Koee Nahin now. Who is she? Is it true that General Alac Bilac, from the nation of Oplan, the man who never speaks and has never lost a war, asked for her hand in marriage and was rejected?
Koee blushed immediately.
Her pale skin took on a reddish hue, contrasting with her unique red eyes. Her naturally platinum-blond hair, gathered into a single long braid, lay motionless over her shoulder. She tried to maintain her composure, but her stomach seemed to be boiling.
Mother Ceres smiled.
— Koee is a beautiful, sensitive girl... she has an almost ethereal way of existing. But she is just as human as everyone else in this room. She speaks, walks, eats, sleeps, and feels pain.
Ceres paused briefly.
— Her emergence was a miracle. A theoretical experiment from Ceres, archived and stolen. We didn't even know whether it would work. The files ended up in Arcadia and remained hidden for seventeen years. To this day, I don't know how they managed to do it.
— But do you admire Arcadia?
— Very much. We disagree on many things, but it is a sovereign nation. And there is a kind of brilliance there that I respect.
Ceres looked at Koee.
— Her blood also helped us advance medicine. We managed to restore the mobility of Daime, our Flagball player, who used to be confined to a wheelchair. Today, he plays again as though nothing had ever happened.
Koee lowered her eyes, still blushing.
— And what about the marriage? — Render insisted.
Ceres answered as naturally as could be:
— A lie. That was made up.
Render frowned.
— So General Alac Bilac did not ask Koee to marry him?
Ceres smiled.
— My son, the General came to Ceres to review his country's accounts because of the agreements we have in place. He came to check the records, talk with us, and understand the transactions.
It was a lie.
The proposal had happened.
And Koee had refused.
But Mother Ceres was not going to expose the General like that in front of millions of people.
— Ceres has banks from almost every country in the world — she continued. — We conduct audits, verify accounts, and monitor agreements. Our reliability is impeccable. We are a neutral country and offer some of the best financial support available.
She paused briefly.
— We feed nations in more ways than just filling their stomachs.
Render looked at Koee again.
— And Koee Nahin?
Ceres turned her eyes toward her.
— She chose to stay.
Ceres's voice grew more serious.
— She knows she can leave Ceres. No one is stopping her. But if she leaves... she will be hunted as a delicacy of the human species.
Ceres looked at Render.
— Because she is just as human as we are.
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