[ WP ] The year is 2100 . The world 's nations have united under the UN to form a unified world government ... except for one . One small and mountainous nation in Central Europe stubbornly holds onto their neutrality .

Time stopped as the clock exploded into pieces. The paperweight that had shattered the timepiece hung limply from the hole it had carved in the wall. The clock had been the last source of sound in the room, other than the occupant ’ s heavy breathing. The servants had fled earlier, after a wine decanter had been hurled into the fireplace. For a few moments, the Hegemon was alone with her anger. She turned her attention back to the letter on her desk, even though she had already read the message enough times to have committed its contents to memory. 
 
 *Pietra Blanco, Hegemon to the World ’ s Nations, Leader of States, President Emerita of Brazil, and Dearest to my Heart, * 
 
 *I ’ m sorry. I know how much this letter will pain you, Pietra. Truly, I wish I could give you what you desire. You know I have always supported your dreams, and I have applauded with every unification treaty you ’ ve seen signed. Take heart in the fact that you ’ ve done it; you ’ ve brought together every nation in the world, except one. * 
 
 *Unfortunately, that one exception must remain. As I ’ ve told you in the past, Switzerland must remain neutral. There are reasons beyond the Treaty of Paris for our stance, but sadly, those reasons are not yet ready to be divulged, even to you. This decision is final, though I sincerely wish it could be otherwise. A neutral party is a necessity, however, and when I accepted the role of President here, it was made clear that our Oath of Neutrality was the most important vow I would ever make. * 
 
 *Forever Yours, * 
 
 *Manu Berset, President of the Swiss Confederation* 
 
 For the fifth ( or was it the sixth? ) time, the letter was crumpled into an untidy ball and the Hegemon looked to the fire, considering whether or not to incinerate the offending words. This time, something caught her eye, though. A light, through the window. A flash of green pulsed across the sky, and then repeated. The letter slipped from the Hegemon ’ s fingers as she moved to the window, staring at the sky. 
 
 It was larger than the sky. It was as if a large rock had been dropped into a puddle and one was looking from below. There were a thousand thousand lights, and yet there seemed to be miles between each. The lights were like the sudden crack of thunder in their enormity. Between the lights, there was only blackness. Not the blackness of night, but a sort that refused even the tiniest fraction of light. As much as the light pushed with its intensity, the blackness inexorably pulled. The entirety of the sky was consumed, and Pietra felt her titles, her world, everything slip away as awe and fear swelled up to subsume everything else. 
 
 She was startled from her trance as the phone rang, breaking the silence. Absolute silence. Until the phone rang, there hadn ’ t even been the chirping of birds, and it was the middle of a pleasant spring day. 
 
 It took more effort than she had ever known to pull herself away from the window and move towards the phone. One step. Two. Then her hand was on the cradle and she lifted the antique phone to her ear. 
 
 “ Pietra? It ’ s Manu. They ’ re willing to negotiate our existence. ” 
 
 “ Manu? I ’ m glad it ’ s you. I think we might need a neutral party. ” 

