Projection Chapter 31 Novels & Stories

On our wedding night, my wife, who almost never drank, got wasted because she was supposedly too happy. Just when I didn't know what to do, my best friend sent me a long message explaining how to take care of her. I blushed, but I still followed his instructions and soothed her the way he described. Natalie, who had been making a scene, miraculously quieted down. But just as I was about to call my friend and thank him, Natalie suddenly hugged me from behind. Heartbroken, she whispered, "Ashton Hawke, you're the one I wanted to marry." As she said it, the tattoo near her heart slipped into view: a hawk with its wings spread wide. My mind went blank. Ashton Hawke was my best friend of

When she stepped out, Julian was waiting. Of course he was. “Well?” he asked. Amelia met his gaze. “They see it.” A pause. “And?” “They’re not comfortable.” Julian nodded. “Good.” Victoria approached from the corridor. “We’re seeing reaction.” Amelia turned. “Where?” Victoria handed her the tablet. The projections had shifted again. Not dramatically. But clearly. The middle was stabilizing. “They’re following,” Amelia said. Julian exhaled slowly. “Yes.” A pause. “But it’s not locked,” Victoria added.

Everything in place. ⸻ Shawn sat at the head of the table. Composed. Unreadable. Untouched by the tension that now threaded quietly through the room. ⸻ And Charles— Was already speaking. ⸻ “…the projections hold,” he was saying, tone measured, controlled. “But there are variables in execution that require closer alignment.” A pause. Subtle. Intentional. ⸻ “And that alignment,” he continued, “has recently… shifted.” There it was.

The door swished open. This room was darker and a fraction of the size. There was only one consul and apparently no other exit. My claustrophobia was really kicking in now. The low wall lighting picked out a round shape in the centre. Eyes growing accustomed to the dim, I saw a large half-sphere resting on its back like some huge contact lens. Transparent pipes were filling it with some kind of gunge. Above the half-sphere hung a complex version of the ‘Projection equipment’ Carver had demonstrated.

"Good afternoon everyone, thank you all for gracing us with your presence and....." "Can you please cut the chit-chat and get on with it ?" Cassandra interrupted. I inhale and exhale then I looked at her. "Miss Cassandra, please refrain from interrupting me," I warned her and when she tries to reply, Giovanni shut her up with his right hand. "Permit me to continue Sir," I requested from Giovanni. "You may continue," he permitted. The projector above my head on the board displayed my proposal and I began the presentation. "This project is called Memories," I said and I could hear the shifting of legs and chairs.

I wanted to be able to attend the first council meeting in projection form. So, while Savenia slept I took the time to work on projecting around the dusty dingy basement. Each time I would try to hold the projection just a little bit longer. Move a little bit faster. At first, the energy used to project would knock me out. Would drain me, but the practice was making it easier to withhold a long session without the feeling of being drained. “Savenia…” I called out quietly. “Savenia…” I called out a little bit louder.

Chapter 96 Rohan POV The room rose when I entered. It was quieter than that, chairs shifting, backs straightening, voices tapering off mid-sentence. The kind of respect that didn’t need to announce itself because it had already been earned. I took my seat at the head of the table, folding my hands together as the final projections flickered onto the screen behind me. “Proceed,” I said. They did. The presentation moved like a well-trained machine. Maps, figures, territorial overlays, contract clauses, political alignments. Every piece of the board laid out cleanly, neatly, obediently. A future designed to bend the way I wanted it to.

He glanced at Vorath, who stood up with that smug, eager smile of his and walked out, returning moments later with a small projector in hand. “Wow,” someone muttered from the back, half under their breath. “First a severed head, now visuals? Council meetings are really turning into movie nights.” A few people chuckled, but not a single one of Lucien’s people, not even Damien, so much as twitched a smile. They looked almost... scared. No. What Leonardo was suggesting couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be. Vorath set the projector down, and the lights dimmed. The image flickered to life against the wall. It was grainy, dark, but unmistakable.

--- 7:58 PM – Rooftop Garden, Ferrer Foundation The final light of day poured like honey over flowers and climbing vines. There was a group of community members who came to try out projection maps—topographic overlays on benches and stairs, changing as they shifted. A teenager nodded. "The route traces where lola used to walk." "And when we sit there," said another, "we're there in the memory, too." One of the elders wept quietly. "It remembers me." Caelan got down to modify the projection angle. "Clause Thirty-One is choreography. Spaces don't keep us stationary. They move with us."

Rez grumbled. With a nod from Jag, Kal tapped his fingers over glowing symbols on the table's surface. The smoky glass of the long table went from being flat and mundane to suddenly animated. Projections popped up in front of each member before settling off center to their left like a computer screen. In the middle of the table, images hovered above the surface waiting to be viewed. The light coming from the projections was enough to light up the room and the room's lights automatically dimmed.