The air in the residential district of the New Federation's capital was thick with the scent of blooming spirit herbs and the constant hum of low-level cosmic energy.

Noah walked down the street, his presence masked so perfectly that even a Legend-level being would perceive him as nothing more than a common civilian. He wore a simple hoodie, his hands tucked into his pockets.

For the first time in a very long while, Noah felt a faint flutter of something human in his chest.

Nervousness.

He was only a few blocks away from his parents' new home. He could sense their life signatures clearly. Silver-level, healthy, steady, and vibrant.

Noah took a step forward, his foot hovering just above the pavement.

Then the world went silent.

It was not a physical silence, but a structural one. The fundamental laws of space and gravity for miles around seemed to tighten and groan, as if the planet itself were bracing for impact.

Then the vibration began.

At first, it was a low-frequency hum, subtle yet invasive, rattling the teeth of every human on the planet. Within seconds, it escalated into a violent, rhythmic thrumming that felt like the heartbeat of the Earth itself.

The pavement beneath Noah's feet cracked.

In the distance, the glass skyscrapers of the Federation, engineered to withstand Level 9 earthquakes, began to sway alarmingly.

Panic erupted instantly.

Cultivators shot into the sky, their colorful auras flaring like distressed butterflies. Sirens wailed as emergency systems across the Federation screamed warnings into the air.

Noah stood perfectly still.

Only his eyes changed.

His pupils vanished, replaced by swirling vortices of quantum data and starlight. He did not look at the crumbling buildings. He looked downward.

"Deep," Noah murmured.

His voice carried a stabilizing frequency that spread outward, reinforcing the surrounding space and preventing nearby houses from collapsing.

"Very deep. Beneath the crust, beneath the mantle… something is breathing."

He expanded his mental domain.

In less than a nanosecond, his consciousness enveloped the entire planet, plunging through oceans and stone alike.

In the Atlantic, midway between Africa and South America, the seabed was tearing open.

This was not tectonic movement.

It was mechanical.

Massive crystalline structures, miles in length and buried beneath a billion years of sediment, were unfolding. The earth peeled away from them like dead skin.

In the Pacific, near the Mariana Trench, the same phenomenon was occurring. Giant golden spires rose from the depths, structures that blatantly violated known physical laws. Trillions of tons of seawater were forced aside as they ascended.

The resulting tsunamis should have erased every coastal city on Earth.

Noah flicked his finger.

Invisible walls of force manifested around every continent. Conceptual barriers formed, carrying a single command to the oceans.

You shall not pass.

The waves slammed into the barriers and vanished, their kinetic energy absorbed and converted into raw mana by Noah's will alone.

The world watched in terror and awe.

From the Atlantic emerged the Aethelgard Hegemony, a land of ivory towers, floating gardens, and waterfalls that flowed upward into the sky.

From the Pacific rose the Xylos-Talos Technocracy, a sprawling metropolis of dark metal, pulsating violet energy, and hovering artificial moons.

Two new civilization resurfaced. They were not new but ancient.

"Interesting," Noah muttered calmly. "They did not just hide. They synchronized their awakening with the planet's energy density. My release of cosmic energy acted like an alarm clock."

He made a decision.

He would not interfere.

Not yet.

He wanted to see how this new Earth, the Earth he had quietly nurtured for a year, would respond when confronted by its own ancestors. He wanted to see whether the Federation possessed the spine to negotiate or the wisdom to learn.

Noah leaned back and flickered out of the physical world, entering a semi-astral state. He became an observer, a ghost that even the strongest of the ancients could never detect.

Within an hour, Earth's geography had changed forever.

Two new continents stood where oceans once were.

In the North Atlantic, the Aethelgard Hegemony gleamed, its transcendental architecture blending divine fantasy with impossible geometry.

In the South Pacific, the Xylos-Talos Technocracy spread outward, a landscape of metallic spires, roaring particle accelerators, and hovering constructs.

The tsunamis that should have devastated the planet never arrived.

Federation scientists hastily attributed the phenomenon to a "miraculous stabilization of the gravitational constant." In truth, Noah was simply holding the oceans in place, ensuring the stage was set without unnecessary loss of life.

As the dust settled, the sky over every major city on Earth turned silver.

A global broadcast manifested.

It bypassed all firewalls, satellites, and encryption systems. This was not a digital signal. It was a soul-transmission.

Every human, from the strongest Gold-level cultivator to the youngest child, saw the same image within their mind.

A man appeared.

He wore robes woven from captured starlight. His hair burned like white flame, and his eyes carried the weight of a billion years of silence. Behind him stood a line of warriors clad in armor pulsing with the power of dying stars.

"Children of the Fourth Epoch," the man spoke.

His voice was melodic, yet carried the crushing pressure of a mountain.

"I am High Archon Valerius of Aethelgard. Beside me stands the High Technarch of Xylos-Talos."

Another figure stepped forward, half organic, half radiant energy, encased in a suit of shifting liquid metal.

"A billion years ago," Valerius continued, "we were the masters of this world.Our leaders reached the pinnacle of the Mythical grade. We brushed against the threshold of the World Level. But the Primordial Empires, vultures of the cosmos, sought to harvest our souls."

"To save our race, we cast Earth into a veil of shadow and entered the Long Sleep."

The world froze.

In the Federation's command bunker, President Marcus Thorne sat rigid, his hands trembling. A Legend-level powerhouse, the strongest man of the modern era, yet staring at Valerius felt like a mortal gazing upon a god.

"We awaken to find our home occupied by diluted bloodlines," Valerius said calmly. "You have fought well against the scavengers known as the Ashfords. For that, you have our respect. But you are children playing with matches in a library of ancient secrets."

The High Technarch's voice followed, reverberating like synthesized thunder.

"The energy of the planet has returned. The Primordial Empires will soon sense it. You lack the means to hide. You lack the strength to resist."

"For the survival of the human species, the New Federation is hereby dissolved."

A collective gasp swept across the planet.

"From this moment onward," Valerius declared, "Earth returns to Dual-Throne Rule. Aethelgard shall govern Spirit and Law. Xylos-Talos shall govern Matter and Progress."

"You will be our subjects."

"In exchange, you will receive the protection of the Ancient Arrays and the techniques of the True Path. Do not resist. Resistance is extinction."

At the Central Martial University, Naomi stood frozen with her fellow instructors, staring at the silver sky.

"They are all Mythical beings," one teacher whispered, his voice shaking. "Even their weakest soldiers are Peak Legend level."

The ancients demonstrated their power.

From Aethelgard, a beam of golden light pierced the atmosphere and struck the moon. A massive runic formation enveloped its surface. The moon did not shatter.

It transformed.

Mana circuitry ignited across its craters, turning it into a planetary defense weapon capable of annihilating a Supreme Empire fleet.

From Xylos-Talos, thousands of Void-Drones launched, sleek crafts moving faster than perception. They stabilized Earth's orbit, perfectly adjusting gravity to accommodate the new continents.

The message was unmistakable.

We are not your enemies.

We are your masters.

In the Federation's emergency assembly, the debate was brief.

"We cannot fight them," President Thorne said quietly. "One Archon could erase us. And if the Primordial Empires are real, we need their protection."

Across the planet, fear slowly turned into relief.

Humanity had lived in constant dread of the next Ashford-level catastrophe. Now, ancient gods had risen to shield them. Sovereignty felt like a small price to pay for survival.

Noah watched it all.

He observed as President Thorne led a delegation to kneel before Aethelgard and accept the Covenant of the Ancients.

He saw the way Valerius looked at modern humanity, with the detached pity of a scientist observing a successful lab specimen.

"They are arrogant," Noah chuckled, casually eating tofu. "They think Mythical grade makes them supreme."

"They do not even realize that the energy which woke them did not come from the universe in a normal way."

"It came from me."

His attention shifted inward as he read the ancient archives of Aethelgard through his mental domain. He uncovered the truth behind Earth's concealment.

A Bloodline Lock.

The planet's coordinates were bound to the life-force of the ruling Archons.

And deeper still, records of the Primordial Empires' true nature.

They were not conquerors.

They were parasites.

They did not cultivate worlds. They consumed them. When a planet matured to level when it could produce mythical beings, they harvested its world-soul and left behind a corpse.

"So Earth was a Grade A fruit," Noah mused softly.

"And these fools buried it underground to avoid the harvest."

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