The next bell was pressed.
Dr. Lucian Harrow, tall, composed, and wearing wire-rimmed glasses, leaned forward with perfect precision.
The chair detached smoothly beneath him and rose toward the central platform.
Every motion was textbook-perfect, deliberate, and measured—as if a machine had been programmed to execute it. There was no hesitation, no tremor, no human error.
He stepped onto the platform with careful balance, each movement exact.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," Lucian began, voice calm, steady, and precise.
"I am Dr. Lucian Harrow, Department of Population Health and Emergency Regulation. My research specializes in population stabilization systems, emergency policy, and resource allocation under crisis conditions. I have been recognized with multiple awards and honors in my field, including the Nobel Prize for Population Science, and have served as an advisor to national and international policy boards for over fifteen years."
He paused, allowing the council to register his credentials, then gestured to a holographic display that materialized above the platform.
Charts, graphs, and data tables rotated slowly, each figure clear and labeled.
"To address the argument that the Male Protection Act has outlived its purpose," he continued, his hands moving subtly to highlight points in the hologram, "we must consider both historical context and ongoing necessity."
The hologram shifted, displaying birth rates, resource allocation efficiency, and population recovery metrics.
A digital copy of every chart and study was automatically airdropped to each council member's personal interface.
"Yes, humanity has survived the population emergency. But survival alone does not guarantee stability. Birth rates are stabilized only through careful monitoring, ongoing support, and resource management. These are not assumptions—they are documented outcomes. The data speaks for itself."
Lucian's gaze moved slowly across the room, locking briefly with Ethan Caldwell before continuing.
"Laws enacted under emergency conditions are designed to adapt. The Male Protection Act was never intended to be permanent; it is structured to taper and dissolve when conditions allow. Its continued function is deliberate, informed, and proportional."
Another hologram flickered, showing resource distribution and the mechanisms ensuring compliance.
"The Act is not coercive. Participation is monitored, voluntary, and temporary. Resources have been allocated to maintain stability, and ongoing oversight ensures these systems function efficiently. The necessity has not disappeared—it persists precisely because it works."
Lucian stepped back with deliberate calm, the hover chair responding seamlessly.
He slid back into his seat, gliding along the invisible track to his original position.
The hum ceased.
Silence filled the council chamber as his words and data sank in.
There was no drama.
No raised voices.
No theatrics.
Every point had been supported, documented, and delivered with precision.
"These are the resources and findings available for your own review," he added, sending another digital copy to every member.
"I encourage independent analysis at your convenience."
The first Piao rebuttal had been delivered.
The meeting was now in full rhythm.
Arguments would rise, responses would follow, and the council would absorb each with measured attention.
The next bell would ring.
Another voice would rise.
Another argument would be laid before them.
The room waited, taut with anticipation.