Damon's Ascension-Chapter 135: The Great Reshuffle Of Humanity 5

The landing pads lit up like ritual altars.

The first to descend was President Graham L. Rourke of the United States, flanked by a retinue of silent bodyguards wearing exosuits woven with hex-tech threads, military-grade and clearly expensive.

But they weren’t the main spectacle as beside him strode a woman with sharp eyes and even sharper killing intent: Selina LoBiondo, one of the remaining First Hundred, America’s current trump card and unofficial world-rank esper.

Her ability was officially declared to the S rank Dimension Walker, a power that allowed her to walk between the folds of space and appear wherever she wanted, similar to Connor’s ability but with a different elemental focus and different strengths and weaknesses.

Her boots clicked once on the glowing tiles before her entire presence seemed to vanish, fading like fog in bright sun.

Akua nearly choked. "Wait! Kojo, did you catch that?"

"Already enhanced the playback," He muttered, zooming on the flicker where Selina had just been.

Next came the delegation from China, their arrival heralded by a crimson shuttle bearing the Seal of the People’s Republic and the sigil of the Central Awakened Authority.

Their leader, President Liang Xuejun, descended with both hands clasped behind his back, moving with the serene, unshakable calm of a man who had watched nations rise and fall and knew Earth would outlast all things.

Behind him walked a figure clad in simple hanfu robes, glowing faintly with an aura that made the air buzz. His steps left soft golden imprints on the tile that quickly evaporated and made the air smell better and cleaner.

This was rumored to be the Ling Zun, China’s secret First Hundred awakener recruited by the government. Who had the S Grade ability of Extreme Affinity, granting him the ability to quickly learn and adapt to anything he encountered to the first time.

The glowing aura was from his special cultivation technique. While Damon opted for martial arts as it suited him better, most Chinese citizens preferred to learn immortal cultivation and Ling Zun was not any different.

"Legends walking in daylight." Kojo whispered.

The European Union arrived next, though the term ’union’ felt ironic as three shuttles landed independently and disgorged different national entourages.

France’s President Eloise Therrien arrived flanked by diplomatic espers and economists.

Germany’s Chancellor Reiner Holtz came with two steel-eyed awakened of an A class ability each who were clad in military greys, going from normal civilians to trained elites by the state in the last 2 months.

And Britain’s Prime Minister Lily Greaves? She arrived alone, her entourage entirely virtual, trailing flickers of digital avatars, an act of protest and superiority.

"Guess they’re still divided even when the world ends." Akua murmured.

South America followed, being colorful, armed, and hostile.

President Javier Cruz of Argentina arrived in a suit ten times too expensive, flanked by a smiling woman in red. She was known in the world as ’The Crimson Alchemist’, a First Hundred awakener known for turning blood into her own power.

Brazil’s Luciano Andrade came next, chewing a mint leaf while waving to the cameras as if attending a fashion gala. Behind him, his elite esper guards strode out wearing holographic cloaks, each projecting different mythical beasts above their heads.

Showmanship as doctrine.

The air got heavier as Russia arrived.

Their shuttle didn’t land so much as descend like a monolith. It had no markings, no insignia, only matte steel and silence.

Out walked President Viktor Anatolyevich Lebedev, his face frozen in the half-smile of a man who trusted no one, not even himself.

Beside him was a towering figure, Vasilisa Korcheva - the "Black Snow" - the most feared of Russia’s awakened and one of the few from the First Hundred with a body count in the triple digits outside Essence instances.

She wore no armor nor did she mask herself, only having a single gold thread tied around her wrist, vibrating faintly with various containment seals to suppress her power.

Kojo adjusted the camera manually. "She’s not here for diplomacy."

"No, she’s here in case diplomacy fails." Akua whispered.

The African Coalition followed, far more composed than rumors had expected. South Africa came first, their President flanked by twin esper siblings known simply as Zeta and Nyoni, whose ability to conjure illusions and alter memories made them frightening even in friendly negotiations.

Ghana, Nigeria, and Egypt landed nearly simultaneously, causing a stir among the press. Their leaders exchanged curt nods, but did not approach one another.

They each brought their own awakened elites who were sleek, efficient, and bearing no tribal or cultural identifiers, only the mark of readiness.

But it was Burkina Faso that shocked the press.

Their president arrived in a cloak, escorted not by bodyguards but by a single, barefoot man with no visible aura, yet every other First Hundred who had arrived so far turned to glance at the fellow in recognition.

And went quiet.

Kojo was whispering, now. "Who... who is he?"

Akua didn’t answer, not because she did not want to, but because she couldn’t. After all, even from where she stood... she felt it.

That man wasn’t walking. He was anchoring the space around him, like reality had to negotiate with him before it let him move.

"Zhenya Urbani..." Akua finally muttered, making Kojo’s face change greatly.

Then came Australia, practically ignored as their envoy stepped out with hollow smiles and very expensive sunglasses. The leaders were ex-ministers, now polished puppets, and their espers—well-trained, yes—but their eyes flicked constantly toward the American and Chinese camps.

"Western-sponsored, they came dressed to impress but sold to obey." Akua muttered under her breath.

And finally...

The last shuttle landed. It bore no flag and had no national emblem, but only the emblem of Planet Earth: six silver rings around a stylized globe.

Damon’s avatar didn’t descend normally, but rather materialized in the main hall.

One moment, the space before the Spire’s entrance was empty and the next, he stood there with his tuxedo pristine, hands clasped behind his back, gaze calm yet sharp.

No guards.

No entourage.

Just aura and silence.

Every camera turned here, none of the usually brave reporters daring to rush up for interviews because the era had changed. Now, many people possessed transcendent power and were willing to use it, so one could not approach anyone rashly without being given the go ahead.

Damon smiled. "Welcome dear friends from around the world. If everyone has arrived, let us enter the main conference room then?"

The invitation was simple and polite, almost soft.

But somehow, it echoed louder than cannon fire.

For a brief moment, none of the leaders moved... whether out of formality or uncertainty was unclear.

Then, slowly, President Liang Xuejun of China offered a small nod and began walking, his suit rustling faintly as he moved toward the grand entrance of the Summit Spire.

The rest followed, some with grace, some with gritted teeth as the world’s great powers were not used to being invited to move.

They were used to being obeyed.

As the delegations began to file in, the press held their breath. Security bots in sleek humanoid forms hovered in the air with silent menace, watching for sudden movements, mind fluctuations, or forbidden tech.

And yet, amid all the decorum...

Trouble began in the form of a young delegate from the European side.

Tall, smug, and overdressed in a golden-brocade diplomatic uniform, he strutted slightly ahead of his group like a peacock loose in a glass palace.

He was Count Lucien de Valcois, an aristocrat-turned-diplomat attached to the French delegation, and—more importantly—a deliberate sacrificial pawn.

His eyes scanned Damon with the calculating condescension of a man trained to belittle.

"How quaint, that even planetary-scale declarations must still rely on costume drama and youthful melodrama. I half expected him to summon a parade of dancers." He said loudly, drawing several sidelong glances.

A few stifled chuckles echoed through the ranks from low-level entourage members from Britain, Australia, and even Brazil. All carefully positioned to laugh, their tones just shy of mockery and derision.

Lucien pressed on. "I suppose this is how authority is expressed now? Not through legacy or law, but through charisma and costume? Perhaps we should all host our parliaments in stage productions."

He turned to Damon directly, tilting his head with a smirk. "Tell me, Prime Representative. Is it hard playing the role of global monarch with no crown, no court, and no country? Or do you simply enjoy the theatrics?"

Kojo inhaled sharply.

Akua froze.

The press held their cameras in place like weapons trained on a powder keg.

Even some of the leaders turned—just slightly—to observe.

But Damon?

Damon didn’t even blink as he paused and turned to the fellow face to face.

Damon tilted his head slightly... and smiled.

A slow, patient smile. The kind given by professors when freshmen ask if calculus really needs to be so hard.

Then he stepped forward, just one step.

No power flared, and no pressure rose.

But yet... the space around him seemed to contract.

"Lucien de Valcois, son of Albert de Valcois. Expelled from the European Diplomacy Institute for ideological radicalism, reinstated by presidential pardon after your father donated ten million euros to the Strasbourg Cybersecurity Expansion Initiative."

Lucien’s smirk faltered as his dark past was dug out in public, aired to the world.

Damon’s voice remained pleasant. "You gained a pretty nifty skill in your last essence instance. Echo Mirage, right? A E-class technique that lets you project illusory voices into distant areas. You used it two weeks ago to simulate a terrorist threat in Milan in order to shift public opinion toward expanded surveillance funding."

Now there was silence, a sharp and cutting silence.

Damon folded his hands behind his back again, still smiling. "You see, Count... I may not wear a crown, but I know everyone who thinks I shouldn’t."

The camera flashes increased.

Lucien stepped back, his forehead lined with beads of sweat as his heart thumped with fear and regret.

"You’re not a very good actor, but I suppose in theater, even the fools have roles to play." Damon said gently, patting the fellow once on the shoulder.

What was unseen though, was that Damon infused a threat of Void Internal Force set to detonate in a day’s time, causing this fellow to become severely disabled, spending the rest of his life in a situation similar to Steve Hawking.

Ling Zun was the only one who noticed this as his eyes narrowed, his spirit sense detecting the special energy Damon infused that was of a similar but different system. He did not make any move, but transmitted his voice using voice transmission to President Liang Xuejun, who also made no move.

Damon glanced over at the duo askance, causing both of their eyebrows to rise with shock. From that look, it was clear Damon could detect their secret actions, which made Ling Zun raise Damon’s threat level higher.

Damon then focused on the crowd.

"Let us not waste this gathering with puppets pretending to speak. If your masters have questions... they are welcome to ask them themselves. I will respond accordingly." He said directly, looking at the world leaders themselves with challenge.

No one laughed now and the other low level entourage members et to provoke shrunk their necks lest they to be gutted in front of everyone.

President Rourke’s mouth twitched into a frown, Prime Minister Greaves pursed her lips, Russia’s Premier narrowed his eyes slightly but only Liang Xuejun nodded just once, as if satisfied.

Lucien vanished back into the crowd like a ripple disappearing into a pond.

Akua exhaled with a trembling breath. "Face... slapped..."

Kojo whispered, still filming, "No. That was an execution."

And with that out of the way, the leaders made their way to the doors of the Summit Spire, which opened wide to receive them.