Jérémy Chapi :
We finally arrived in front of the United Nations building. A massive arch — an imposing symbol of the institution — marked the main entrance. At the top, the inscription UNITED NATIONS was engraved in capital letters, with their well-known emblem at its center. Before this arch, a forest of flags representing the member states fluttered gently in the wind. There were so many that listing them all would have taken hours.
Ahead of the building, an impressive crowd had gathered: journalists, representatives of various organizations, and curious onlookers, all kept at a distance by security barriers and armed guards. The tension and excitement in the air were unmistakable.
The car came to a stop, and I took a deep breath. President Atlas was the first to step out, his calm and composed demeanor sharply contrasting with the agitation around him. Before leaving the vehicle, he turned slightly toward me and said with an enigmatic smile:
"Welcome to the big leagues."
"Looks like it," I replied.
I watched him descend the steps. Then it was Natali's turn. Out of courtesy, I offered her my hand; she took it with her usual elegance as she stepped out of the car. Finally, I summoned my courage and exited as well, ready to face the burst of flashing cameras that erupted instantly. Their intensity surprised me even more than at the airport — almost blinding.
Once outside, the three of us lined up for another official photo session. Atlas, always master of himself, faced the cameras with innate serenity. Natali displayed a measured, perfectly professional smile. As for me, I tried my hardest to maintain a relaxed expression despite the media storm.
When the photo session ended, we proceeded toward the main entrance. The atmosphere grew more solemn with each step. I knew exactly what awaited me inside: the Hall of Multilateralism, where representatives from 190 countries were already waiting for this crucial meeting.
Inside the immaculate white building, we were guided through bright, impeccably maintained corridors. Each step echoed softly, amplifying the gravity of the place — a site steeped in history.
At a crossroads, President Atlas took his leave to join the conference room, where his seat awaited among those of the other world leaders.
Before parting, he extended his hand:
"Good luck, Jérémy."
"I'll do what it takes to convince them!" I replied, fully convinced everything would go well.
Atlas smiled.
"One last piece of advice: clear your mind and take your time."
I shook his hand sincerely.
"Thank you, Mr. President. I wouldn't be here without your support."
He nodded once before disappearing down the hall.
"Very well, let's continue," Natali said, resuming her stride.
We walked through several long corridors until reaching a large room serving as a waiting chamber before my appearance in front of the nations.
Upon entering, my eyes were immediately drawn to an intriguing object at the center of the room. Resting on an elegant gold-trimmed rolling cart was a large circular object hidden beneath a thick black cloth. The contrast between the ornate cart and the otherwise minimalist décor was striking. Around it, several armed guards stood watch, their vigilance obvious.
"I see our package arrived safely," I whispered with a hint of irony.
"Use this time to calm yourself. I'll take care of a few details with the guards," Natali said before stepping away to discreetly check the security arrangements.
As for me, I sank into one of the Renaissance-style armchairs along the wall. The carved wood and velvet cushions added a warm touch to this solemn room.
I pulled out my tablet to speak with my daughter one last time before the session.
"We're here, my daughter… one of the most difficult steps," I murmured, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach.
"Everything will go well, Father. I know you'll do an amazing job," she answered in a calm, genuinely enthusiastic voice.
"I hope so… Everything is ready, my dear. Now we just need to wait for our turn… and hope it all goes smoothly."
"We prepared everything in detail, and you trained with Natali all week. It should go well."
I let out a final sigh and skimmed through a few more lines of the document with her. Natali then returned, sitting in front of me and handing me a refreshing drink, which I accepted gratefully.
"We're going to do a small breathing exercise."
"What, now?"
"Yes. You need it — your stress is written all over your face."
Before I could question her further, she handed me a white handkerchief embroidered with delicate lace.
"Wipe your face."
I obeyed, only then realizing it was drenched in sweat. My heart was racing, nearly overwhelming me. She gently took my right hand — the one holding the handkerchief — turned my palm upward, and pressed lightly on the inside of my wrist with her thumb.
"Your pulse is too high — just as I thought."
I glanced at my daughter, who nodded softly.
"Good. Give me your other hand."
I hesitated. My left hand still hurt, but Natali's advice had always been sound. I extended it cautiously. She took both hands in hers.
"Breathe at the same rhythm as me."
I followed her lead, syncing my breath with her calm, steady inhalations. A gentle alternating pressure on my wrists timed the flow of my breathing. Surprisingly, her grip was soothing. Little by little, my heartbeat slowed.
Suddenly, a loud noise echoed through the room — three sharp knocks on the door, ringing like gunshots in the muffled silence. A guard stepped in and announced that it was our turn.
A bead of sweat slid down my temple. This was truly the worst moment to lose control.
"Everything will be fine," Natali said, locking her gaze with mine as we stood.
Intrigued by her meticulous care, I finally asked the question burning my lips:
"Why are you doing all this?"
She remained silent for a moment, adjusting the folds of my jacket before answering in a voice slightly cold, reminiscent of the soldier she once was:
"Because I was ordered to. And I accomplish my missions."
Her words, simple yet sharp, struck me like a blunt truth. I lowered my eyes, disappointed but not surprised.
"That's a shame," I murmured, looking away.
She didn't respond.
I walked toward the door, heart heavy but head held high. Natali positioned herself at my right, while the soldiers behind us pushed the cart holding the precious object.
We advanced the final meters toward the massive, ornate main doors — towering, solemn — which began to open slowly… almost ceremonially.
A clear voice echoed through the speakers, formal and solemn:
"We now invite Mr. Jérémy Chapi, presented by Atlantis, to deliver his proposal before this assembly."
I took a step forward, lifting my eyes toward the immense hall. The seats, arranged in a sweeping arc, were all occupied by leaders representing the nations of the world. Among them, I spotted the flag of my homeland, France, as well as the familiar emblems of the United States and Russia. Every gaze converged toward me — some filled with curiosity, others with skepticism, and a few cold and unreadable.
I drew in a deep breath, feeling the crushing weight of the moment. Each step I took resounded on the marble floor, amplifying the echo of my own nervousness. This was the moment to make my voice heard, to take my place on this global stage.
Accompanied by my escort, I walked slowly toward the podium positioned at the center of the room for maximum visibility. On each side, the leaders' seats formed an imposing semicircle, heightening the sensation of being scrutinized from all directions. I forced myself to maintain a neutral demeanor, even as the pressure mounted with every second.
Reaching the podium, I paused for a moment, placing my slightly trembling hands on the edges to steady myself. To my right stood the golden cart carrying the celestial ring, still covered by its black cloth. To my left, Natali — stoic — kept her gaze fixed straight ahead. I took one last deep breath, as we had practiced, trying to calm my mind, then lifted my eyes toward the assembly.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, leaders of your respective nations, my name is Jérémy Chapi. I stand before you today to submit a proposal for peaceful exchange — a project that, I hope, can reshape our shared future."
My voice, amplified through the speakers, resonated across the amphitheater. I marked a pause, carefully observing the reactions around me. Each leader wore headphones to hear the real-time translation of my speech. Some exchanged discreet glances, while others remained motionless — attentive, yet cautious.
I raised my hand lightly, signaling the guards to remove the cloth covering the cart. They complied swiftly, unveiling the celestial ring.
One meter in diameter, it sat like a futuristic sculpture. A soft, diffuse glow radiated from its surface, illuminating the surrounding area with a gentle sheen. The entire amphitheater seemed to hold its breath.
Murmurs rippled through the room. Even from this distance, I could detect the glimmer of surprise in the eyes of several leaders. The most skeptical leaned forward slightly, as if to better evaluate what stood before them.
I continued, my voice more confident this time:
"What you see here is not merely a technological advancement. It is a symbol. A symbol of what we have developed to respond to the challenges of our era. What I offer you, Ladies and Gentlemen, is a collaboration — an opportunity to exchange knowledge and resources in a spirit of peace and progress."
Barely had I finished speaking when a wave of agitation swept through the amphitheater. Animated discussions broke out among the delegates. Some seemed intrigued, others skeptical, but all were captivated by what I had just revealed. The tension in the air was palpable.
A relative silence fell when the President of China lifted his hand in an authoritative gesture, requesting to speak. He stood, adjusted his microphone, and fixed me with a piercing gaze before asking, in a calm yet penetrating voice:
"What do you want in exchange for this technology?"
His question, simple in appearance, reverberated through the room with almost electric intensity. For a brief moment, one could have heard a pin drop. All eyes turned toward me — some expectant, others anxious.
I inhaled slowly, trying to maintain composure despite the turmoil rising within me.
"In exchange, I wish to obtain a territory belonging to my country of origin," I replied evenly.
A wave of astonishment swept across the amphitheater. Heads turned; eyebrows rose. My declaration had just sent a shockwave through the ranks of world leaders.
The Russian president — a massive man with an often enigmatic expression — allowed a faint smile to curl at the corner of his lips before intervening:
"If I understand correctly, you wish to create your own independent state? A sort of principality?"
His voice carried a subtle irony, yet his gaze betrayed genuine interest.
I nodded. "Yes. This territory would allow me not only to continue my research independently, but also to create a place dedicated to progress, free from political interference."
The French president then took the floor. His face displayed a mixture of restrained anger and hesitation.
"Why request French territory? You do realize the magnitude of such a demand?"
I held his gaze, refusing to yield to the pressure.
"Yes, I am fully aware. But I wish for French soil to become the symbol of a new era."
A heavy silence followed. Every leader seemed to be weighing the implications of my words. This went far beyond a simple technological exchange.
I drew another breath and rested my hands on the podium.
"I need a stable place to develop these technologies — a place where the inhabitants can live in harmony. In return, I commit to offering the international community limited but guaranteed access to my research, under strict conditions."
A new wave of murmurs erupted. Some leaders seemed intrigued, others fiercely opposed.
To my left, Natali remained impassive, yet even she appeared momentarily caught off guard.
I concluded calmly:
"My proposal may seem bold, but it is meant first and foremost for peace and progress. Now it is up to you to decide whether you are ready to take this step with me."
His question's echo lingered throughout the hall, drawing every gaze back to me.
I paused, gathering my thoughts. It was a pivotal question, and my answer needed precision to avoid arousing unnecessary distrust.
With a measured tone, I replied:
"Indeed, I am prepared to provide you with this energy. But it will only be possible under certain conditions."
At that moment, detailed documents outlining these conditions were transmitted to all leaders on their tablets, synchronized with my speech. Screens lit up across the chamber, displaying carefully drafted points.
On my own tablet, Iris appeared with a bright smile, discreetly giving me two thumbs up as she managed everything behind the scenes.
Natali, still stoic, observed the unfolding scene from the corner of her eye.
I continued, trying to capture the attention of every leader in the room:
"These conditions are not meant to limit your sovereignty, but to ensure that this energy is used exclusively for peaceful purposes and contributes to collective progress. Here are the main conditions I wish to establish:"
The Creation of the Principality of Riveria
"A sovereign territory dedicated to the development, regulation, and supervision of this technology within a neutral and international framework."
The Establishment of Energy Embassies
"Each nation wishing to benefit from this technology must host an embassy where the celestial rings will be installed to power their infrastructure. These embassies will guarantee full transparency in the use of the energy supplied."
A Strict Ban on Military Use
"No country shall divert this resource, provided by Riveria, to design or power weapons. Any violation will result in the immediate and complete suspension of access to the energy."
These foundations, along with numerous detailed political and technical clauses, were now available to every leader.
My daughter and I had carefully drafted them in hopes of establishing a framework acceptable to all.
I paused, allowing the assembly to absorb the information. Some were already studying the documents intently, while others whispered among themselves, faces marked by deep contemplation. Reactions varied — surprise, skepticism, curiosity, and at times, distrust.
Drawing a breath to recapture the room's attention, I continued in a steady voice:
"Ladies and Gentlemen, these conditions are essential to prevent any misuse and to ensure that this technology serves only peaceful goals. Every country that signs the agreement — particularly clause three — will benefit from this energy."
I paused again, sweeping the hall with my gaze, before adding with a spark of passion:
"I invite you to view these proposals not as restrictions, but as a unique opportunity. Together, we can create a future where this technology reduces inequalities, protects our planet, and sustainably improves the lives of every human being."
A deep silence settled, my words resonating throughout the massive amphitheater.
Eyes remained locked on me — some probing my intentions, others already imagining the implications.
This was the critical moment. The one where everything could shift.
I waited, studying the expressions around me, ready for the first objection.
The President of China spoke again, his piercing gaze fixed on me:
"You wish to create a principality, but for that, you require territory."
I inclined my head slightly. "Yes. As mentioned in the document you received, I propose establishing this principality over a 100-square-kilometer area surrounding the barn that once belonged to me."
The French President, visibly irritated, straightened in his seat and replied with thinly veiled hostility:
"Wait… You want a piece of France?"
Before I could respond, the Russian President cut in, a mocking smile tugging at his lips:
"If it troubles you that much, we are willing to offer him a portion of our territory."
His tone, though polite, dripped with provocation.
A burst of commotion rose among the delegates.
Major powers — the United States, China, and others — began whispering among themselves. Some looked thoughtful, others skeptical.
It was clear that some countries were genuinely considering granting me land… while others saw an opportunity to exploit.
I raised my hand to calm the growing agitation.
"I appreciate your interest and your proposals, but I love my country of origin," I said, deliberately turning my gaze toward the French President.
"And that is why I wish to establish this principality on a part of its soil."
Another heavy silence followed.
The French President crossed his arms, torn between irritation and reflection.
Before he could reply, the Chinese President spoke again, his composed tone easing the tension:
"Your loyalty to your home country is admirable, Mr. Chapi. However, do you not fear that requesting such a large section of France may create political tensions — or even divide the international community?"
I nodded slightly.
"I am aware that this request may seem bold. But I want this principality to be founded where everything began for me. It is a place full of meaning — not only for my work, but for my identity."
The French President offered a forced smile.
"And what would you say to French citizens who see this as an unfair loss of their territory?"
I remained composed.
"Most of the proposed area is uninhabited. It consists mainly of fields and underused land. I am also prepared to compensate landowners for the parcels involved. The transition would be conducted respectfully, in accordance with laws and with the people concerned."
The Russian President, still playing his provocateur role, chimed in lightly:
"If France refuses, we could always reach an arrangement. A technological breakthrough of this scale deserves a home in a visionary nation, after all."
Some delegates chuckled, but the tension remained — every word carried immense weight.
I lifted my hands slightly, refocusing the debate:
"I do not wish to divide this assembly. This project represents a global opportunity. But as a Frenchman, it is natural for me to begin with my own homeland. That choice holds deep significance for me."
A low murmur rippled through the room once more. Some nodded, others exchanged calculating looks.
The French President hesitated, visibly wrestling with the political implications — all under the watchful eyes of the world.
Finally, he leaned toward his microphone, speaking with a softened, respectful tone:
"Mr. Chapi, your project is undeniably admirable. However, I cannot commit immediately. Such a decision requires thorough consultation with my government — and with the French people."
A mix of relief and tension washed over me.
It wasn't a refusal — but it wasn't a victory yet either.
I bowed my head slightly, my voice sincere:
"Thank you for your consideration, Mr. President. I am ready to answer any question and to work transparently with your government."