The United Nations General Assembly hall was a world of muted gold and green, a cave designed for the hard, grinding rhetoric of states. Today it was quiet, a breath all held together. Every seat was filled. Representatives from all states that were recognized in the world looked down at the one man at the simple wooden podium. Cameras from everywhere in the world converged to capture him, casting his image before billions. In the VIP gallery, Anna, Liam, and remnants of the HON's inner circle stood, their faces taut with pride and terror.
Reuben Stone appeared less than he was, a man diminished by the height of the room and gravity of the moment. He wore a simple, dark suit, a compromise with the formality of the occasion, though it hung loosely on his frame. The long-term price of the S
