Palace of Progress, New Washington, Earth. December of 2543.
It was a cold evening of dark blue colors and orange shades. President O’Donnell stared at the Eternal Garden from the balcony at his office near the top of the building, fireflies and resurrected glowing beetles wandering around the giant flowers or spongey plants.
He sipped his Titanian whiskey for the second time, feeling his throat burning with relieving fire. The current situation did nothing but worsen. All contact had been lost with Pluto and Charon, the aliens had arrived at Eris too, and reports indicated some of their ships were mobilizing to the rest of Extra-Neptunian space.
But the situation in the inner system was only worse; a considerable force had struck Neptune, and although the planet could resist —not witho
