If New York were a heavy crown, increasingly tarnished by desire, sin, and the glory of a bygone era, then Flushing Meadows Park, the main venue for the Osborn Technology Expo tonight, was a diamond on that crown, freshly cut and polished.
Under the cover of night, thousands of micro-drones, like fireflies controlled by a higher will, executed formation flights at low altitude with centimeter-level precision.
The vector nozzles at their tails trailed high-lumen holographic light ribbons, weaving ever-changing dynamic patterns in the pitch-black night sky.
At times, it was a slowly rotating double-helix DNA structure, symbolizing that the primal code of life had been cracked; at other times, it transformed into a giant green eye overlooking all living things—the logo of Osborn Industries.
These light ribbons were like tamed auroras, forcibly dyeing the murky night sky of Queens—once a mix of sin, poverty, and shadows—into a dreamlike polar day.
At the central fountain plaza, the New York Philharmonic was performing live.
The grand symphony flowed low throughout the park, and the low hum of the cellos seemed to drown out not only the wail of distant sirens but also the noise and unease underlying the city.
Even the air here seemed to have been specially treated by the Osborn Group, filtered of exhaust and dust, and filled with negative ions and a crisp fragrance that made one feel overly exhilarated.
"My God, Alice, look at that."
Aunt Sarah's voice trembled slightly with excessive excitement.
Like a child brought into a candy house for the first time, she clung tightly to Alice's arm, pointing at the transparent tube spanning the night sky above.
"Whoosh—"
Almost the moment the words left her lips, a streamlined maglev sightseeing train slid silently through the vacuum tube.
The silver-white body reflected the sea of neon lights on the ground, like a silver fish swimming in a river of light.
It left an afterimage on the retina, disappearing instantly at the end of the line of sight, leaving only a gust of wind that lifted the hems of the ladies' dresses on the ground.
"That must be the Osborn Group's new energy transportation network, Skyline. I saw on the morning news that it uses the latest room-temperature superconducting technology, which can shorten the commute from Midtown Manhattan to Queens to under ten minutes."
Sarah looked up, her eyes shining with an almost devout light.
It was the most basic, instinctive yearning of ordinary citizens for a better life, and an unconditional trust in the utopian future promised by the tech giants.
In her perception, these technologies were salvation, tickets to that new World without congestion, without pollution, and full of dignity.
"Mr. Osborn is truly a great entrepreneur; he is genuinely changing this World."
"Yes, he is changing the World."
Alice echoed softly, a flawless social smile hanging at the corners of her mouth.
She was wearing a minimalist black velvet dress tonight.
This light-absorbing fabric appeared particularly deep in a venue filled with high-gloss and reflective materials.
The Hepburn-style cut perfectly revealed her slender, fair neck and collarbones as exquisite as a work of art.
In this noisy ocean of synthetic materials, LED screens, and chrome metal, she was as clean as a black tulip blooming alone, carrying a classical and distant sense of tranquility.
She wore no exaggerated diamond necklaces or dazzling ruby earrings; her only accessory was an inconspicuous vintage mechanical watch on her left wrist.
Among the socialites and noblewomen around her—who seemed desperate to hang their entire net worth around their necks and flashed neat porcelain teeth when they laughed—Alice looked like a well-behaved and harmless wealthy young lady out to see the World with her elders.
"Hi, Alice."
"Good evening, Ms. Wilson."
Harry Osborn stood at the VIP entrance of the expo's main venue, named Genesis.
As half-host of the evening, this heir to the Osborn empire wore a perfectly tailored dark blue Italian custom suit.
The expensive fabric clung to his slightly thin frame, his hair meticulously styled with wax, glowing with a healthy sheen under the lights, making him look handsome and upright.
His gaze wandered from time to time until he caught that familiar black figure in the crowd.
Seeing Alice walking over with Sarah, Harry's shoulders, which had been as tense as a drawn bowstring, visibly relaxed.
On his face, which carried an aristocratic melancholy, finally appeared a sincere smile belonging to a young man, devoid of any commercial calculation.
Alice walked over elegantly amidst the clicking of countless camera shutters and the wall of light formed by flashes.
Sarah clearly hadn't fully adapted to being devoured by the media; her palms were sweating, her body was slightly stiff, and she almost walked with the same arm and leg moving together due to nervousness.
Alice quietly patted her aunt's hand, transmitting a sense of stability.
Her pace was steady, her chin slightly raised, and she didn't even change her blinking frequency when facing the cameras, acting as naturally as if she were born for the spotlight.
"Hi, Harry, you look like a prince from a fairy tale tonight." Alice said in a relaxed tone, joking with a smile.
"Thanks, Alice, I really owe it to your magic potion." Harry said excitedly. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't dare imagine what tonight would be like."
"I'm just fulfilling my duty as a friend."
While the two were talking, Peter arrived.
He was still the same.
A slightly faded T-shirt, an outer plaid shirt, worn-out jeans, and a pair of old sneakers on his feet.
Hanging around his neck was that DSLR camera, which was as precious as life to him, the huge lens bobbing up and down on his chest as he ran.
Among this crowd of elegantly dressed and refined high-society people, Peter Parker looked like a nerd who had wandered into a royal ball, so out of place, yet vividly cute.
"Hey, Peter."
Harry didn't care at all about the scornful or surprised looks cast from those around him.
He smiled and strode forward, grabbing Peter, ignoring the reporters' lenses, and affectionately hooked his arm around Peter's shoulder, pulling this poor kid from a regular high school in Queens into the very center of this vanity fair.
"You finally made it; I thought you got lost in that particle acceleration experience zone."
"I almost did, really."
Peter gestured excitedly, his cheeks flushed red from running and excitement, completely forgetting the so-called social etiquette.
"And, Harry, I saw the Osborn Industries single-soldier hoverboard demonstration outside. Is that vector thrust control system real? Is that really not just special effects from a sci-fi movie cut and pasted into reality? How is that balance algorithm achieved? I calculated it, if it only relied on a gyroscope, it would be impossible to..."
"Peter, breathe, deep breaths." Harry laughed, interrupting his rapid-fire questions, and smoothed out his wind-blown collar. "Don't let your geekiness scare off the security here in the first minute; they're holding real stun guns."
Only then did Peter realize how many eyes were staring at him. His face instantly turned red to the roots of his ears, and he embarrassedly scratched his messy brown hair. "Oh, hi, Alice, Ms. Wilson. You look, tonight, wow."
He looked at Alice and froze for a moment, as if searching his brain for all the adjectives he had ever learned, before stammering: "Very beautiful, I mean, very appropriate. No, it's stunning. Just like, uh, just like dark matter, mysterious and attractive. No, that's a terrible metaphor, forget it."
Alice couldn't help but laugh, her eyes curving into crescents. "That's the geekiest compliment I've ever heard, thank you, Peter."
Seeing both of his best friends by his side, Harry became cheerful, as if he had turned back into the carefree teenager at school.
He pointed to the brightly lit, heavily guarded core exhibition area behind him and said boldly: "Let's go, tonight I'll take you to the core exhibition area; that's where the real future is. Peter, you can take all the photos you want, as long as you don't post them online—this is a privilege for insiders. I want you to see what we've actually been busy with for the past six months."
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