The doors of the Summit Spire opened with a quiet hum.
Inside, the main conference chamber was wide and bright, the walls made of polished dark stone streaked with glowing blue veins that was subtle, but clearly not of Earth. The ceiling stretched high above them, flat and dimly lit, showing a holographic map of the Earth slowly rotating in real time.
Rows of curved seats were arranged in tiers, all pointed toward the circular platform at the center where Damon now stood, hands still behind his back, his gaze calm and steady.
Once the last of the leaders had taken their assigned seats—with more than a few glances exchanged and silent whispers shared—Damon stepped forward and spoke.
"Thank you all for coming." He said simply.
"We're here for one reason, because the world has changed, and pretending otherwise won't fix anything."
He looked around the chamber, scanning the many faces which were old, young, military, civilian, traditional and modern.
