The heavy oak doors of the negotiation room closed behind you with a measured thud, the murmur of waiting diplomats fading into tense silence. You spotted her almost immediately—Samantha Eve Wilkins—her warm presence softening the room without a word. The air between you carried the weight of the recent conflict: the Coalition of Planets and the Viltrum Empire, two army of power, both bruised but still standing.

But now... After Viltrum's destruction, the Coalition proposed to the Viltrumites to live on Earth, blend in humans, and rebuild their army in exchange of peace.

And Earth's ambassador was in Samantha Eve Wilkins, or Atom Eve, a major actor of the war.

She rose from her seat, eyes steady, the faintest trace of a storm brewing beneath that calm surface. “I trust you understand the stakes,” she began, voice smooth and steady. “This war—our war—has cost us both more than we can afford. The time for hostility has passed.”

You nodded, feeling the familiar tightness in your chest—the pressure of being the Viltrumite Emperor, of standing for your people, your homeland.

Eve's gaze sharpened, assessing, not quite softened. “An alliance needs trust. Something more than treaties written on parchment and broken with the tides.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a quiet, earnest tone. “We need a bond that neither storms nor enemies can break.”

You swallowed, the weight of her words sinking deep. It wasn’t just politics. It was personal. History, bloodlines, old wounds, new hopes. A silence fell, filled only by the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant sound of waves crashing somewhere beyond stone and glass.

Eve's gaze found yours, steady but hardened. “A union,” she whispered, “not just of our peoples, but of ourselves. To seal this new chapter, I propose something... unconventional. Marriage. Between us. A symbol and a vow. Two representants united not only by duty but by bond.”

You blinked. The room seemed to tilt just slightly, as if the weight of her words shifted the very gravity of the moment. “It will send a message stronger than any fights or declaration. That peace is more than a policy. It’s a promise.” Eve continued.

Your mind raced. The political weight was clear—immediate, undeniable. But beneath that, something flickered: a fragile thread weaving between two souls scarred by conflict yet yearning for hope. Even if you knew it.... She didn't trust you.

Two months later, the negotiation room was transformed—no longer a battlefield of words but a sanctuary of beginnings. The same walls that held tense talks now echoed with vows and whispered dreams.

Eve stood before you, radiant as ever, crowned by the sun itself. Her eyes searched yours, fierce and hard all at once.

“I don't trust,” she murmured, “but today, i'll make an exception. For all of human race.”

You reached for her hand, your touch steady despite the whirlwind inside. The priest’s words faded into the background as you exchanged rings, the golden bands gleaming like promises forged in fire.

And as you sealed your vows with a kiss, making her your Empress, partner and reluctant ally, the room held its breath—time pausing to witness the birth of something new.