A masquerade of power,
veld in ambition,
draped in the illusion of progress.
Jared and Jason, estranged brothers,
two halves of a fractured legacy.
Will they rediscover the light
that once illuminated their dreams
to find a path forward?
Only time will tell.
They sit, back straight, eyes gleaming,
lips curled in some promises spun from gold.
But gold tarnishes.
And beneath it, only rust.
They tell you they are building the future.
That the past is an anchor dragging this city into ruin.
But listen closely.
Progress is their gospel
and they are its prophets
preaching salvation to those willing to sell their souls.
He speaks of towers that kiss the sky.
Cities woven from glass and steel
where even the sun's artificial.
A paradise at the click of a button.
But tell me.
What's his paradise without the breath of life?
Without the heartbeat of art?
Of memory?
She would have you believe that history is a relic,
that beauty can be coded,
that a city without its past is somehow more alive.
But a machine is not alive.
A screen is not a soul.
And a city without its artist,
its dreamers, its rebels?
It's nothing more than a monument to the men who bought it.
She reminds you who built this empire,
who holds the strings,
who decides the future.
But power built on the backs of others
does not stand forever.
It shifts, it crumbles.
And those who grasp at it too tightly
are always the first of all.
They laugh at the past.
They snare at those who fight to hold onto it.
But what they don't understand is this.
History does not ask for permission.
It does not yield.
It lingers in the cracks
and the whispers of those who remember.
And when the time comes, it rises.
They offer illusions of power,
shadows of control.
But true power?
True power is knowing the worth of what cannot be bought.
It is standing when the world tells you to kneel.
It is refusing to be erased.
This is not just a dinner.
Not just a deal.
This is a reckoning.
And no mask, no illusion,
no promise of paradise
will save them from the truth.
I will guide you into the echoes of your innermost dreams.
My name is Elias Vale.
Some call me an illusionist.
Others, a keeper of time.
I am not here to cast bells,
but to reveal hidden truths.
Jared invited me here tonight
to show you his vision for the future.
I will guide you into the echoes of your innermost dreams.
Every city has a heartbeat.
Every light has a shadow.
Decisions made here tonight
will either reshape this place forever
or reveal the cracks
where the light is trying to get into all along.
Time is a portal
and my mere presence has been set
to thin the bells between the realms.
You are the architects of tomorrow.
The dreamers, the builders, destroyers.
Each of you holds a snake
in the place that Jared Dunn has in the city.
And together, we'll uncover the path
that this city is meant to follow.
Thank you all for being here tonight.
Nova Heights is more than a development
of luxury high rises.
It's the prototype of a smart city of tomorrow.
A promise of progress and innovation.
This entire building
is a central location of our development.
We need to build here in order to make it a reality.
Elias is more than a magician.
He has the unique ability to reveal what words alone cannot.
Many of you, including Mayor Rasheed,
have been working with our team for years.
But there are still some, like my brother Jason,
who are struggling to see the full picture.
Elias is here to help us step into that vision together.
I trust that once you see what only he can show us
that we will be aligned
and we will finally move forward together.
Why are we really here tonight, Jared?
We're here to secure the future
to make sure that the city doesn't fall behind.
The future, huh?
A future where my wife
can no longer lead these kids through dance?
Where the arts are no longer away for us
to remember who we are?
This stage, this very theater has helped birth
some of the greatest cultural revolutions,
that we have transformed lives here
with nothing but the power of art.
We don't need high rises, Mr. Mayor.
We need resources to help us rebuild
what truly matters here.
Our legacy, our community,
and what we fought for.
Legacy?
It's a comforting lie
that people tell themselves to feel relevant.
When I was younger,
my grandmother said I had a gift
for guiding the lost, the broken.
I've made my fortune turning others' failures into power.
As a real estate tycoon,
I see opportunity where others see decay.
Jared knows that.
People don't want to find their way.
They want someone to lead them,
and that's where I come in.
I take what's been written off and I make it valuable.
When Nova Heights rises,
we'll be defining its future.
You have a choice.
Join us or we're forgotten in the shadows of what we build.
As mayor of this city for the last 10 years,
I've seen what happens when we refuse to evolve.
Now, we're at a crossroads.
We can't survive without growth.
You remember your brother, Jared?
You once believed in this place.
You danced right there on that stage.
The three of us used to be so close.
We all shared a dream.
What happened, Jared?
My husband moved on because he realized
that some things are better left behind.
That was a lifetime ago, Lucy.
Look, people grow apart,
and often times it's because they choose to grow up.
This Art's District is stuck in the past.
Nothing lasts forever.
You are unrecognizable, man.
There used to be something real in your eyes,
but I don't see that anymore.
You surrounded yourself with these suits.
They're like a black hole.
You always stay stuck in the past, Jason.
That's why we grew apart.
Cities that don't evolve,
that don't build up like you,
you leave them behind.
People move on.
No one wants to stay where there's nothing left to grow.
You'll push out the people who made this place.
You are building a city that doesn't even have room
for the people who made it worth being here.
The sole build in this archaic,
these spaces are dying breed.
You brought us here
under the same veil of manipulation and bribery
you used for months
pushing us to hand over the keys
so you can demolish the soul of our community.
You can't build anything worthwhile without sacrifice.
Sacrifice is easy to afford
when you're not the one paying forward.
Now, as mayor,
I answer to real people with real lives.
I get it.
We need funds to rebuild this city
into the thriving hub it once was,
but I also know
we can't push out the community that built it
just for high rises no one can afford.
Now, this is a complex issue.
Mayor Rasheed, I understand the weight
of those real lives you're talking about.
Let me assure you,
my blueprint will do this design justice.
My architecture is high art.
The art center and the arts district won't be forgotten.
It'll be reflected in the very structure of our design.
The city moves beyond what's already here.
The people who breathe life into this place
won't even be able to afford to get near it.
You're right, Jason.
Signing these contracts isn't just about the building.
It's about leaving everything behind
that's been holding you back.
The failed dreams,
the forgotten artists,
all that vanish.
What replaces it?
Money, influence, power.
I've already worked with the mayor
on fast tracking the rezoning proposal.
The city council won't be a problem after tonight.
But without your signature, this whole project stalls.
I've seen it before.
Rundown neighborhoods, abandoned buildings,
all revitalized with this type of development.
This is what we desperately need.
You'd agree with that, wouldn't you, Sophia?
The only way forward is up.
My job isn't to take any sides.
It's to report and to bring national attention
to the decisions facing the future of this historic center.
Not to push an agenda.
The real question
isn't whether you all will sign the contracts tonight
or if there will be change.
The question is,
is it the kind of change that you plan for?
Or the kind that you're forced into?
You see, history doesn't build cities.
Sacrifice does.
And if you're too afraid to let go of the past,
then you do not deserve to build the future.
So we just throw away everything that makes us human?
You really think progress is worth losing our soul.
You wanna build a new city,
but at what cost?
The largest quantum computing system ever integrated
right here where we're sitting,
it's the control center
for the world's first fully operational smart city.
Nova Heights isn't about replacing humanity,
it's about upgrades...
Where is the humanity in a city
that leaves zero room for the people to dream?
The difference is stark
when you understand the functionality of a smart city.
Our technology will create a space
that helps you become a better version of yourself.
Better for who?
This is the same old story.
Empty ideals in no substance.
Big plans that won't fix anything and only cause more harm.
How do you all not see that?
You could sell it to them, but I'm not buying it.
Ah, focus on the ticking hands.
The time you've cherished,
the time you've squandered.
Before you can experience Jared's vision for the future,
you must first be immersed
in the forgotten memories of the past.
Let me draw you into the dreams very deep with that.
Together we will slip into the bells
of time's grand illusion.
Let us go back to a time where the promise of tomorrow
was met by the dreamers in this room.
Welcome to the moment the art district was born.
This theater.
Ah, it stands on sacred ground
that indigenous communities once gathered.
Maybe that's why the performances on this stage
are so powerful.
But did we ever ask permission
of the hands that planted the trees that we cut?
Or did we just bulldoze through that community, too,
thinking we were creating something better?
It haunts me.
This cycle of destruction.
'Cause my designs are tied to it.
They say it's evolution.
How do you move on when the lost never leaves you?
You know, trees are conscious of the books they become.
Stones are aware of the mountains that form them
and the oceans that shape them.
The real architects aren't people.
They're the earth and the wind and the water,
the shifting earth.
The weight of those ancient forces
weights beneath everything we've made
to remind us that nothing we ever created is permanent.
I remember my first project, a museum.
Yeah, I thought everything I designed would endure.
Oh, I was young, naive.
I thought if I built it from the heart,
it would last forever.
Now, I'm not so sure love is enough to make something last.
How do you choose
between what is here
and what must come next?
We've planned everything,
projections, approvals, investments,
but after what Elias just showed us,
I'm not sure the vision will hold.
And if it doesn't, what's our contingency?
I know what you feel, Jared.
That hollow wake?
The one that nothing can fill?
That's where I thrive.
In the doubt, in the fear.
You stay focused on the money, the power,
and I'll make you the man the city will never forget.
But if you let anyone pull you back to who you were,
if you let them weaken you,
you'll be nothing.
You'll be useless to me,
useless to the city.
You can't afford to make that mistake tonight.
Elias was supposed to show them my vision.
This wasn't suppose to happen tonight.
If Elias isn't gonna show them,
then we need to tell them.
Time does not yield to power,
nor does it bow to weak.
Time is a mirror.
They stand before me tonight weaving their illusions.
They carefully construct the truths.
But what they don't realize
is that my gifts does not serve illusion.
It shatters it.
This watch, this artifact,
was not forged in their world
of ticking clocks and numbered days.
It was bestowed by forces unseen,
meant not to measure time
but to reveal it.
And when enough seekers gather,
when enough eyes are willing to see,
the veil thins,
the hidden truths rise,
the forgotten dreams stir,
and the walls built from lies begin to fracture.
Time is not an instrument of control.
It is a portal.
And once it is open,
there is no turning back.
It'll be the top hour structure,
of global reach.
You think we don't have global reach now?
Moving forward isn't about more tech.
It's about giving people the space to create,
making room for the art that hasn't been made,
the voices that haven't been heard.
None of that happens through machines.
It happens through human connection,
the very thing your plans would erase.
I've seen lives change here.
I've seen kids walk in broken
and leave with something
they thought they could never have.
And that's hope.
You remember, don't you, Jared?
When it was just us,
it wasn't about the deal.
It was about the dancers, the dreamers, our mural.
Change is inevitable.
It's the only constant, and it's necessary.
Sometimes the change we need isn't in the world around us.
Sometimes the change we need is within ourselves, brother.
When the music stops and the space is gone,
we're left with nothing.
Instead of using that money
to restore what this place was always meant to be,
you wanna use it to replace it with something
that will never hold the meaning that it once had.
Sometimes the hardest part of progress
is what we choose to forget.
There's one more memory we must revisit,
a moment that might reveal what's truly at stake,
what we gain,
and what we risk losing.
The process.
The arts district wasn't just a place,
it was a promise.
But promises like anything are fragile.
Just like families.
Just like the truths we buried to survive.
There was a time when we all came together
to fight for something we believed
was a life life for our city.
I remember a boy,
I must've been no more than 14 or 15 years old,
standing in front of the mural
we painted that first summer.
That boy's hands were stained with paint,
eyes wide with wonder.
He said, "Maybe if I make something beautiful",
people will see me.
"Maybe they'll stop looking away."
That boy's name was Jason.
And I remember another boy,
older, standing behind him.
His fists clenched as if the weight of the world
had already taught him to fight.
His eyes had already shown him enough heartache
for nine lifetimes.
That boy's name was Jared.
We were commissioned by the city
to paint that mural that first summer.
But halfway through, Jared abandoned it.
He abandoned his dreams.
Jason, he stayed,
finishing the mural for the whole city to see,
a mural that spanned an entire block.
That mural, our first mural, still stands.
Two brothers.
One who found his voice in art,
and another who hid his behind ambition,
both drawn to the same spark,
but two afraid to stand together in its light.
The legacy of two brothers broken
in the very place it was born.
Our district built a movement,
a promise that art could heal,
that it could unite us,
that it could change lives.
We celebrate more than creativity here.
We celebrate freedom, resilience,
and the power of community.
The stage.
It was our sanctuary.
Our canvas.
Our home.
At first summer when the mural went up, oh,
took me back to a time full of promise.
Over the years, I've witnessed movements rise and fall.
Changes that have shaped this place.
Some for the better, some for the worse.
But one thing I know for certain
is the price of holding on too tightly
can be greater than the price of moving forward.
Mayor, we can't demolish this historic place
without consequences.
We're putting billions into this plan,
and this building is the only thing standing in the way.
This building isn't just brick and mortar.
It's history.
It's community.
It's everything that people like you can't put a price on.
Everything has a price,
enough to make sure you're all comfortable for a long time.
You think we sell out our community?
Careful, Jason.
You're talking like you have a choice.
What's that supposed to mean?
Let's just say accidents happen.
What if a fire started?
The blades tears through this building,
spreads through their entire block?
By morning, every art piece,
every instrument, gone.
Reduce to ash in one clean sweep.
Let's just say
a little accidental fire can change everything.
You'd burn it down?
Dorian, if this is the direction
you're planning on taking it,
you must know my firm can't be involved.
Fire doesn't just destroy.
It reveals.
It's renewal.
It shows what's worth saving.
That's the thing about progress.
It's not kind to the sentimental.
It strips away the excess
and it clears what's holding you back.
Let the past burn and we'll build something stronger.
Or you could hold on
and let the fire consume you too,
and watch history forget you.
Look, everyone just calm down.
No one's talking about burning down anything.
Let me offer you a glimpse of what lies ahead.
The future as Jared envisions it,
it's a promise.
It's weight that it house.
The future isn't just something you see.
It's something you feel.
Something you understand.
And all of you, including Jared,
deserves a chance to experience it,
not just as an idea,
but as it truly will be.
I can see it
as if I've lived in this future
we built in Nova Heights.
And it's nothing like what we thought it would be.
This gleaning smart city.
I believed it was the answer,
but what we built something
so lifeless, so sterile,
and it erased everything that made us human.
And in the end?
We lost ourselves.
What we created is a world without wonder.
This, this is all that's left.
A tiny fragile reminder
that magic once lived in our city.
I remember someone telling me
that dragon flies used to be mighty fiery dragons,
but they chose to shed their flames
to become delicate creatures.
Their iridescent wing shimmering like whispers
of a forgotten truth.
They remind us
that fear is just an illusion.
And love has the power to reshape
even the fiercest of flames
into something beautiful.
When I first ran for office,
I thought progress was a straight path.
But leadership?
It's about standing firm in the dark when no one else will.
I'm done standing on the sidelines
watching us trade what's sacred for what's easy.
I've had enough.
Enough of the bribery,
the backroom deals you bankrolled Mayor Rasheed's campaign
and you've line the pockets of city council members.
You've greased the palms of city planners.
Hell, you've even picked your own regulators
only to turn around and own them.
And for what?
For a city built on favors instead of integrity?
You frame it as progress,
but it's just another machine to make the rich richer
and the voiceless disappear.
And me, God, help me.
You brought me here on the same playbook.
I've spent years rationalizing these designs.
And Jared, let me tell you,
time is something you can't buy.
It's something you cannot get back.
You've wasted enough of it on a plan
that's been rotting from the inside.
And after everything Elias has showed us tonight,
you can't sit there and pretend like you don't feel it.
Look at Jason, your own brother.
Jared, this is not about business.
This is about people's lives.
And if you can't do it for them,
then by God, do it for your own bloodline.
Because if your family isn't enough,
then whatever will stop.
Bloodline?
Jason made his choice and I made mine.
Family is just circumstances and circumstances change.
Look, you all can cling on to the past if you want to.
But when the city moves forward, and it will,
the only thing that will matter
is who had the power to shape it.
Power?
Is that all you see when you look at the city,
when you walk in streets,
hear its music, feel its history?
You don't feel anything, do you?
Just numbers, just leverage.
You talk about the future
like it's some machine you can program,
like the past doesn't post beneath every brick laid here.
But no matter how many buildings you put up,
how many people you push out,
this city remembers.
The streets, the walls, the air,
it holds the echoes of what was.
And one day, when you finally stop to listen,
you'll realize the only thing you've built is a void.
And by then there won't be anyone left
to pull you out of it.
Lucy's right.
I have spent years trying to reach you,
trying to remind you of the kid who used to dream
about things that actually mattered.
And not just to investors,
not just to people of power,
but to the people.
But, maybe you're not that kid anymore.
Maybe you are just a man
about a blueprint in the bottom line.
And if that's all you are,
well, I don't know what's left for me to even fight for.
Through this vessel we call time,
we come to understand
that the past and the future are not separate.
They are connected
by something far deeper than we can see or touch,
within the realm of our own souls.
And tonight, Jared,
is time you've remembered.
I thought it was just a dream,
a glimpse of what could be,
a place so clean, so perfect,
that it felt unbreakable.
But it wasn't.
It wasn't a vision of the future.
It was a reflection of what I become.
Instead of fighting the courage to create,
I gave in to the fear of failure.
That moment at the mural, I could see it so clearly.
That was the day that I walked away from my dreams.
The distance I created between myself
and everything I once believed in.
That was the foundation Nova Heights was built on,
not a city of my future,
but a monument to my fear.
That's the story you're telling yourself now.
That fear held you back?
No, Jared, you built everything on that fear.
It's what makes you successful, ruthless, decisive.
The man sitting here in front of me isn't a failure.
He's a man who knew when to stop dreaming
and start building.
You think you lost yourself?
You didn't.
You became exactly who you were meant to be.
Untethered, free from guilt,
free from all the weight of trying to be good enough.
That's what saved you.
That's what gave you power.
Don't let them convince you to feel again.
Because if you do,
all the cracks that you've buried will split wide open
and you'll remember everything that you've been running from
and it will destroy you.
Stay empty, Jared,
and I'll keep you strong.
Stay soulless and I'll keep you in control.
It's strange, isn't it?
We spend our whole lives chasing what we think is for us.
Forgetting that what is for you
will always find you even if you run from it.
But you gotta be willing to pull the layers back,
pull the veil back and remember who you are.
The question isn't whether this city can survive
without its soul, Jared.
The question is whether you can.
Enough of the drama.
You're all clinging to a city that doesn't exist anymore.
Exactly, this isn't some grand moral quest.
For Jared, this is just reality.
Jared, get them back on track now
because if you don't,
everything that we have built,
and I mean everything, will collapse.
We have to move forward with this.
No.
For years I've been convincing myself
that this was for the greater good,
but now I see the facade.
It was a mess,
one I head behind for too long.
I should have been building something real,
something that can endure.
Then maybe I wouldn't have lost what matters most,
especially between brothers,
between me and you, Jason.
This belongs to you.
The future doesn't belong to me.
The future belongs to all of us.
So time finds its rightful place
in the hands of those who cherish the sacred space.
The dreamers, the music makers,
and the visionaries
wave enough to illuminate the world with their light.