Noah watched Taban leave, a faint smile lingering on his face.
Then his attention returned to the rest of the room.
"What I don't understand," he said calmly, "is why you keep pushing me."
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried.
"I already gave up the idea of ruling you. So why keep testing me? Do you all have a death wish?"
As he spoke, his hand rested lightly on the wooden podium.
With a small motion, he pressed down—
—and something shifted.
A flicker of violet energy ran through the surface, and a small object separated cleanly from the wood.
A die.
Twelve sides.
Perfectly shaped.
Noah turned it in his fingers, then handed it to the stunned speaker.
"Go ahead," he said. "Roll it."
The man hesitated, staring down at the object in his hand.
Each face bore a word.
Capitalism. Feudalism. Fascism. Nationalism. Democracy. Anarchism. Conservatism. Theocracy…
His throat went dry.
"What… is this supposed to mean?"
Noah smiled faintly.
"It means exactly what it looks like. Whatever it lands on—that's the system I'll use to run this planet."
The room went still.
Someone let out a nervous laugh.
"You're serious?"
"Completely," Noah replied. "From this moment on, I'm going to reshape the world."
He turned slightly, looking straight into one of the broadcast cameras.
"And just so everyone's clear…"
His tone sharpened.
"This is the beginning."
"The first global war—starts now."
A beat.
Then—
"I'm declaring war on the United States."
"On the United Kingdom."
"On France."
One country after another.
He listed them without hesitation.
The reaction was immediate.
Disbelief. Mockery. Anger.
Across the world, people watching the broadcast scoffed.
Inside the White House, Matthew Ellis stared at the screen.
"…He's insane," Ellis muttered. "Declaring war on the entire world?"
In Europe, reactions were no less dismissive.
"Overconfidence," one official said flatly. "Power's gone to his head."
"He thinks he can take on every nation alone?"
Back in the chamber, Noah spread his hands slightly.
"Come on, then," he said. "Bring everything you've got."
"Jets. Tanks. Missiles. Nuclear weapons."
"Try it all."
"As long as you refuse to accept my terms, I'll keep fighting."
His eyes swept the room.
"I don't stop until you do."
Then he nodded toward the die still in the speaker's trembling hands.
"Go ahead. Roll it."
The man swallowed hard.
Under Noah's gaze—and the weight of the entire world watching—he threw it.
The die bounced once.
Twice.
Then came to a stop.
Noah stepped forward, picked it up, and glanced at the result.
"…Democracy," he said.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
"Not bad. Could've been worse."
He straightened and looked out at the room again.
"Alright," he said. "Let's do this properly."
He raised his hand.
"I propose we destroy this place."
A pause.
"Anyone in favor?"
Silence lasted less than a second.
"I oppose!"
"No way!"
"Are you insane?!"
The room erupted.
Noah nodded thoughtfully.
"Got it. One vote in favor, seventy-eight against."
He tapped the microphone lightly.
"However… as the future ruler of this planet, I reserve the right to override."
A faint smirk appeared.
"So I veto your opposition."
Before anyone could react—
He moved.
A single punch.
The force behind it detonated instantly.
A shockwave tore upward through the building, ripping through steel and concrete like paper.
The entire Empire State Building—
collapsed.
Not gradually.
Not structurally.
It exploded.
A visible column of pressure shot from the base to the top, and in less than a second, the skyscraper disintegrated into debris and dust.
Outside, helicopters hovered in every direction, cameras rolling.
They captured everything.
The destruction.
The shockwave.
The aftermath.
Across the world, people stared in stunned disbelief.
"That… that was one punch."
"No way. That has to be explosives."
"That's not human."
"This has to be fake—right?"
Elsewhere, in a hidden sanctuary, Magneto watched the broadcast.
His eyes burned with excitement.
"Finally," he said quietly. "Someone's taking the fight to them."
Across from him, Professor X frowned.
"You don't think this is going too far?"
Magneto turned, his expression sharp.
"This is an opportunity. Mutants have been pushed aside long enough."
His voice dropped.
"If you try to stop this… I won't hold back."
Around them, the gathered mutants shifted uneasily.
Some were thrilled.
Others uncertain.
Xavier sighed, leaning back slightly in his chair.
"When did I say I could stop him?" he said quietly. "Or that I even could?"
Back in New York—
Noah stepped into view of a hovering news camera.
His expression was calm again.
Measured.
"Sixty minutes," he said.
"That's how long you have."
"I'll be arriving at the White House."
He tilted his head slightly.
"In the meantime, feel free to throw whatever you want at me."
A brief pause.
"Because if I get there and the United States hasn't surrendered…"
His voice turned flat.
"The White House will end up just like this building."
He reached out, giving the stunned reporter a light pat on the shoulder.
Then—
He vanished.
Or rather—
He moved so fast he might as well have.
His body cut across the ground at incredible speed, closing the distance toward Washington, D.C.
At that pace, he'd be there within the hour.
The First World War had lasted years.
The Second had taken even longer.
Noah had no intention of repeating that.
Three days.
That was all he planned to need.
And if that wasn't enough?
Then he'd simply take a break—
and start the next war later.