The General Assembly Hall of the United Nations was a pressure cooker of fear and desperation. The air, usually filled with the dry rustle of documents and the murmur of translated diplomacy, was now thick with a palpable, sweat-scented anxiety. Every delegate, every translator, every security guard felt the weight of the moment. Global news networks broadcast the emergency session live, their cameras capturing the grim faces under the stark chamber lights. The world was holding its breath.
On massive screens flanking the iconic green marble podium, three images cycled, a terrifying triptych of the new world order. One showed the frozen, medieval nightmare of central Berlin, a stark contrast to its former self. Another displayed the sleek, terrifying lines of Victoria Kane's Aethelstan carrier over Antarctica. The third was a live feed from San Moreno, where crowds were gathering, not in protest, but in desperate hope, awaiting the promised demonstration by Aria Montenegro.
