President Ellis clasped his hands beneath his chin. Only his eyes were visible—heavy, grave, and burdened.
He understood perfectly well what this plan meant.
If it were carried out, the entirety of Gotham City would be obliterated under a saturation bombardment of modern firepower.
The economic loss caused by the destruction of a major city was beyond calculation—Ellis knew this better than anyone.
If he truly went through with it, then unless the war ended in overwhelming victory or yielded enormous gains, he would be torn apart by the fury of Gotham's survivors.
But at this point, things had already reached such a stage.
With so many debts already weighing on him, what was one more?
If this strike succeeded—if it ended the war in a single decisive blow—then he would not be a criminal.
He would be a hero of the United States.
At that point, re-election would be trivial. Perhaps even greater ambitions would become possible.
"I approve the operation," Ellis said loudly.
"Have all staff officers finalize the plan immediately and execute it at maximum speed!"
The moment the supreme order was issued, the entire general staff sprang into action.
The plan was simulated, refined, and optimized to its absolute limit, then transmitted to both the Army and Navy.
The Army—designated as the main striking force—mobilized immediately.
Long-prepared truck-mounted rocket launchers roared toward their assigned positions in massive convoys.
Howitzers and heavy artillery systems were airlifted by transport aircraft at top speed, unloaded, and rapidly assembled at the battlefield.
Meanwhile, the four major naval fleets that had already received prior orders arrived in the Atlantic.
All carrier-based fighters were launched.
Hundreds of aircraft formed massive air wings, screaming toward Gotham's airspace.
Missile bays were fully opened, weapons armed, awaiting the joint-fire command from ground forces.
Across the world, every nation capable of witnessing this moment held its breath.
All eyes were fixed on whether the country possessing Earth's greatest military power could defeat these mysterious invaders from the depths.
When the coordinated command finally came down from the White House—
The world erupted.
Rocket artillery, heavy guns, and howitzers roared in unison.
At sea, the missile hatches of the four fleets opened simultaneously, and wave after wave of missiles blasted into the sky.
Over one thousand missiles were launched in a single, unified volley.
It was a sight unprecedented in human history, a moment destined to be recorded forever.
Naval aviation and Air Force squadrons merged into a single, colossal aerial armada—
a super air group never before seen in human warfare.
The moment they entered firing range, they launched air-to-ground missiles at the jellyfish-like defense towers and amphibious combat vehicles.
Thousands of guided missiles detached from their pylons, streaking forward with blazing exhaust.
In response, the jellyfish towers and ground vehicles unleashed dense barrages of energy beams.
Many missiles were intercepted and destroyed—but with towering skyscrapers obstructing targeting systems, some missiles slipped through.
They struck the ground with devastating precision.
Even Atlantean infantry armor could not fully withstand the shockwaves.
Soldiers were hurled through the air by the blast force, while the intense heat—deadly to deep-sea beings—melted or shattered the reinforced glass visors of their helmets.
Brine Kingdom and Fisherman Kingdom troops, deprived of helmet support, immediately collapsed—
like fish stranded on land—clutching their throats and gasping in agony.
And this was only the beginning.
The sky filled with missiles, artillery shells, howitzer rounds, and rockets—
forming the most terrifying and dense bombardment in human history.
As darkness fell, countless fiery trails ignited the Sky, turning the sky into a blazing curtain of flame.
The jellyfish towers and combat vehicles fired their anti-air energy cannons at maximum output.
But then—
The aircraft launched a second wave of air-to-ground missiles.
For a moment, the defensive systems were overwhelmed.
The next instant, explosions erupted without pause.
The entire city of Gotham shook beneath the thunder of annihilation.
Building after building collapsed under the saturation bombardment.
This was humanity's strongest conventional attack—short of nuclear weapons—unleashed in full view of the Atlanteans.
The bombardment lasted nearly a full minute.
When it finally ceased, Gotham had become a sea of fire.
The once-prosperous metropolis was reduced to ruins.
Yet amid the inferno, the advance of the undersea alliance halted.
Countless bodies of sea-dwellers littered the ground.
Extreme heat, vacuum-like pressure zones, and toxic gases spread everywhere.
Even Atlanteans and Xebelans—capable of breathing on land—collapsed, unable to endure such an environment.
Dozens of jellyfish towers lay shattered, burning amid the flames.
Large numbers of amphibious combat vehicles were heavily damaged, their systems failing as they ground to a halt.
"Excellent!"
Inside the White House command center, President Ellis slammed the table and shouted in triumph.
The suffocating gloom that had filled the room shattered instantly.
Cheers erupted. People clapped and embraced one another.
But less than a minute later—
One man froze.
Then another.
And another.
Like a spreading infection, expressions across the room turned rigid.
Because on the screen—
Atlantean infantry formations began rising from the sea.
They rode upon manta ray–shaped aircraft, clad in heavier, more advanced armor.
Powered by powerful engines, these vessels were fully capable of atmospheric flight.
Next, massive crab-like war machines emerged from the ocean—
over eight meters tall, wrapped in thick armor, bristling with gun barrels.
Then—
The sea began to churn.
A pointed structure slowly broke the surface, rising higher and higher as it advanced.
In moments, a colossal spiral fortress emerged—
over thirty meters tall, more than fifteen meters wide, like a mobile citadel.
And there were three of them.
"Your hands are now stained with the blood of the Four Great Undersea Kingdoms,"
a voice echoed across the battlefield.
"There is no longer any room for compromise."
"From this moment on, I am not merely the Lord of the Seas—
I am the Lord of the Land as well."
Seated upon his throne, Orm smiled—
a smile even more radiant than before.
The soldiers who had died earlier were nothing more than cannon fodder—
troops from the Fishermen Kingdom and the brine Kingdom.
Atlantean and Xebel casualties had been minimal.
Only hatred could fuel a truly merciless war.
And now—
Hatred had fully taken root.
_____
T/N:
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