August 14, 2070 | 7:15 PM | Presidential Office, Jakarta
The last amber light of sunset filters through electrochromic windows, their shifting batik patterns casting geometric shadows across nanoweave carpets. Holographic reports hover above a teakwood desk where a centuries-old keris dagger rests beside a steaming cup of Javanese coffee. President Herjuno looks up from a glowing topographic display of the Sunda Trench, his eyes narrowing at real-time seismic data. When knuckles rap against duranium-reinforced doors, he flicks a finger – silencing both holograms and the gentle gamelan soundtrack with one gesture.

"Enter." He rises, adjusting the simple beskap jacket over his shoulders, the movement causing a service drone to retreat into ceiling panels. "Forgive the darkness – sometimes ancient solutions..." he taps the keris hilt "...help untangle modern problems. Sit. Tell me what brings you here while this tectonic tantrum settles."