The Nuclear Arms Treaty had just been activated when North America's top leadership received the news. They immediately called the Strategic Command Department, demanding in a stern and furious tone, "Selwyn, what are you trying to do? Have you lost your mind?!"
However, after a single gunshot, the screen shattered into countless fragments.
The application to invoke the Nuclear Arms Treaty was also rejected by higher authorities. The treaty imposed strict limitations on the use of nuclear weapons.
But because the Wartime Emergency Strategic Protocol allowed wartime commanders to mobilize all weapons in order to prevent delays in nuclear authorization from costing fleeting critical opportunities, Selwyn still retained partial authorization over several missile silos and could deploy them at any time.
In his headset, the mysterious voice continued to seduce his mind. "That's right. This is a decision made for human civilization. It is the wise choice."
Selwyn's gun, still wreathed in the scent of gunpowder, swung toward the others in the command center. In an unquestionable, threatening tone, he said, "Do as I say. Activate the missile silos!"
Fear and chaos had stripped Selwyn of his sanity. He could no longer afford to consider anything else.
In his madness, Selwyn gradually came to understand everything:
"This is the consequence of humanity's blasphemy against and destruction of nature."
"Humanity bears original sin."
"It is time for humanity to undergo purification. Only through atonement can mankind reach the free paradise!"
...
At a nuclear launch base in southern North America, personnel in heavy protective suits nervously inspected every piece of equipment, ensuring that everything was in optimal condition. The sound of their breathing echoed inside their helmets, dull and hurried.
The commander in the control center wore an icy expression. He repeatedly confirmed the readiness of each stage, constantly instructing the technicians to guarantee absolute precision. Outside the window, the wind carried an oppressive atmosphere that made people uneasy.
At that moment, a senior officer entered the control center with a deeply furrowed brow. The instant he stepped inside, he questioned, "General, I need to confirm the authenticity and origin of this nuclear launch order."
The senior officer would rather believe that the command had been issued by hostile forces who had hacked the command station's signal and stolen the authorization codes.
The commander—a calm and composed man wearing the rank insignia of a North American Major General—presented the order document to the senior officer and replied firmly, "This is a decision made after careful deliberation and consideration by MOTH Strategic Command Headquarters."
"But this decision will cause enormous losses to our nation," the officer continued.
The commander's tone remained immovable. "This is our duty and mission as soldiers. We are not here to question. We are here to execute."
As a soldier, the commander possessed the necessary resolve and obedience. Though he did not understand why Strategic Command had issued such an order, he believed they must have their reasons.
The headquarters must have its own plans. There was no need for him to doubt. He only needed to carry out the order—even if he became a sinner in the annals of history.
Under the commander's sharp gaze, the senior officer found himself unable to argue further. Yet he could not suppress the fear and despair in his heart. His family—and hundreds of millions of innocent lives—were within the blast radius of the impending nuclear strike.
There was helplessness and pleading in his voice. "But this decision will lead to even greater sacrifice. Shouldn't we at least try to find another solution?"
The commander hesitated. This colleague was his close friend. They had enlisted together, fought side by side. He had even visited his friend's family before.
But military orders could not be altered.
"We must trust Strategic Command's decision."
Just as the conversation between the two grew increasingly heated, on the verge of escalating into a full argument—
A gentle wind pushed open the window and drifted inside.
Within the wind seemed to linger a chilling aura that sent shivers down the spine, turning the atmosphere inside the control room strange and gloomy.
Under the influence of this wind, the lights in the command room began to flicker, casting mocking shadows across the walls.
The bizarre phenomenon gradually made those present restless. The glances they exchanged revealed an invisible fear.
Yet after that fear passed, their expressions revealed an abnormal serenity—as if their bodies and minds had been liberated, as if their souls had been set free.
Some of the previously busy technicians leaned back in their chairs and took deep breaths, forgetting the tasks in their hands and beginning to scroll on their phones.
Others extended their palms out the window, as if trying to grasp the strange sensation carried by the wind, merging themselves with the breath of nature.
The tense atmosphere between the senior officer and the commander vanished. They seemed to completely forget the launch mission before them, sinking into the eerie tranquility brought by the wind.
Under the influence of this bizarre wind, the originally tense and solemn atmosphere transformed into one that felt relaxed, cheerful, and strangely free.
The senior officer who had tried to stop the nuclear launch suddenly rose slowly to his feet. His eyes became hollow and indifferent.
The corners of his mouth lifted into a faint, ambiguous sneer as he spoke in an almost mechanical voice. "I obey Command Headquarters' decision. To eliminate the Honkai, all sacrifice is necessary."
"The sacrifice of civilians is only natural. For the sake of human civilization, it is a necessary loss."
"Exactly. Civilian sacrifice has nothing to do with us. It was Headquarters' decision."
"Enough talking. Launch the nuclear missiles immediately."
"Tatakai! Fight for freedom, tatakai!"
"Drive the Honkai from this world forever. Eradicate it without leaving a single trace!"
"Humanity will triumph!"
In this strange atmosphere, people gradually began to accept the terrifying order, turning a blind eye to the disaster it might cause.
The wind seemed to allow them to temporarily escape reality, veiling their conscience.
They seemed to forget that they were making a decision that could cost millions of lives.
The launch procedures progressed at astonishing speed. The commander entered the nuclear authorization keys. The technicians disengaged every safety mechanism, canceled the safety review reports, and even removed the launch countdown entirely.
At the very moment the bright red launch button was casually pressed by a janitor holding a trash bin—
The MOTH Enforcement Unit, dispatched from headquarters, burst into the control center of the missile silo.
"Don't move! Get down!"
"Hands where we can see them!"
"Captain, everyone here is showing Honkai energy readings!"
"What?!"
Rumble—!
The nuclear missile roared to life, the deafening thunder proving they had arrived a step too late.
Those responsible for calibrating the launch silo were the first to be engulfed by the missile's blazing exhaust. The nuclear warhead shot out of the silo, streaking toward the most densely populated states in North America.
Humanity's sharpest blade—once aimed at the Herrscher—had now turned against its wielder, reversing its direction toward defenseless humanity.