United States, the White House.
Inside the Oval Office, the atmosphere was spacious, bright, and dignified.
Gathered here were the few people in the entire United States least likely to be bought or controlled by Barmulodi. They were those who had remained steadfast in their resistance against him.
The current President of the United States.
Three generals from the army, one of whom was Sam Lane. Ten years earlier, in the second year after General Vic's death, Sam had led a clean-up of the mess left behind and had smoothly risen to become the youngest general in U.S. history.
Amanda Waller of the Checkmate organization.
Two admirals.
Three Air Force generals.
Several key members of Congress.
This room represented the last group of individuals in the United States least likely to be compromised by Barmulodi's influence. After ten years, Barmulodi's infiltration and control of the United States had reached staggering levels.
If even the people gathered here had been compromised, there would truly be no hope left for America.
With heavy thoughts weighing on his mind, the President glanced around at everyone present. Despite the stern look in his eyes, there was an undeniable tension beneath his forcibly calm expression. Holding his breath, he stared at the satellite footage displayed on the large screen before him.
The atmosphere in the office was unbearably tense, pressing down on everyone like a physical weight. Even the airflow felt stifling, as though the very air had thickened.
Sweat moistened the President's skin despite the autumn season. His nerves were stretched to the breaking point, his throat dry. He tugged at his tie instinctively, gasping as if the fabric were strangling him.
"Have the other countries launched their missiles?"
His voice trembled slightly with tension, unable to conceal his anxiety.
"They have launched."
Amanda Waller responded quickly, her expression solemn and unwavering.
The President's eyes flashed with a mix of sternness and deep concern. With a voice heavy with worry, he asked, "Can this… actually kill him?"
"This is already the most powerful weapon on the planet, enough to wipe out the Earth itself."
"If this doesn't destroy him… then we…"
The words hung in the air, unspoken but understood. If this failed, the United States, after having dared to provoke the tiger, would be annihilated by Barmulodi's wrath.
Everyone present took a deep breath, the tension in the room growing heavier.
Sam Lane's expression was grim as he slowly spoke, "If this fails… we will have no choice but to surrender."
The word "surrender" felt like a crushing weight, pressing down on the entire room like a mountain.
The United States, once the dominant force on Earth, was also the country most deeply invaded and compromised by Barmulodi.
The President, the generals, the congressmen, all felt that unbearable heaviness settle into their hearts.
Silence filled the room. An oppressive, suffocating silence.
With heavy, anxious hearts, everyone stared intently at the large screen, awaiting news of the nuclear strike.
It was not only America holding its breath.
Russia, Britain, Germany, the Eastern nations, Africa, Impala, Kahndaq… dozens of the world's strongest countries were also watching, waiting for their combined might—the most powerful weapons ever created—to destroy the Kryptonian oppressor.
…
Meanwhile, in space.
A faint smile curled at the corner of Bardi's mouth. His right arm was bent, locking Diana tightly by the neck. Her beautiful face flushed with anger and frustration. She had never been humiliated like this, held as helplessly as a stray pup. The humiliation burned within her.
But Diana was not about to yield. Divine energy surged through her arms, turning them golden as she clung tightly to Bardi's waist, using every ounce of strength to drag him toward the approaching nuclear missile.
The strain in her waist caused Bardi discomfort. Even after consuming much of her divine energy, she remained determined. The divine force she unleashed pressed into his body, constricting his waist tightly, even forcing it to compress slightly.
Bardi made no effort to resist. The smile on his face deepened. His eyes burned with excitement as he allowed Diana to push him toward the nuclear strike zone. At the same time, he adjusted his own flight trajectory toward the warhead.
The missile, burning bright with powerful flames, collided directly with Bardi's chest.
At that moment, the leaders of the world, including the President of the United States, clenched their fists, their bodies trembling with tension.
"He must die! Barmulodi!!"
In Russia, Germany, Britain, the Eastern alliance, and across the globe, high-ranking officials could not help but clench their fists tightly, breath held, united by one desperate hope:
The death of one man.
The nuclear bomb detonated against Bardi's chest.
Bardi smiled faintly, his eyes still calm, even indulgent, as if he were soaking in a hot spring. He released Diana from his grasp, spread his arms wide, and welcomed the explosion.
The blinding light erupted instantly, its violent force crashing directly into Bardi's body.
In an instant, the memory particle fabric of his clothing disintegrated like ash, the magnetic field destabilized and unable to reconnect. His clothing burned away from his chest outward, scattering like dust.
The intense flames ignited immediately, consuming Bardi's flesh at incredible speed. His skin burned away like paper, revealing the deep red muscle fibers beneath. The heat penetrated nearly two centimeters into the muscle tissue, causing a searing, agonizing burn.
His face was now stripped of skin, exposing muscle and sinew like a medical model.
"Ah…"
Even with the burning muscles exposed, Bardi smiled. His grin twisted his raw, muscular face into a terrifying sight.
At the same time, the energy stored within his body surged into action, faster than the flames could destroy him.
Each cell, under the intense heat, operated at maximum capacity. His internal magnetic field protected the tissue as surging energy began rapid cellular repair.
The regeneration speed was faster than the destruction. Cells divided endlessly, rebuilding muscle and tissue. Skin regrew from the center of his chest outward, covering him again in flawless, unscarred flesh. His body returned to its original, towering form—unyielding, powerful, standing as if he could crush the Earth beneath his feet.
In the end, the nuclear explosion could not destroy Bardi's body faster than he could regenerate.
As for Diana, still clinging to him, the golden glow of divine power faded quickly from her hands. Exhausted, unable to hold on any longer, she fell unconscious. Only the faint divine light around her continued to protect her from death.
On the streets of Earth, at night, the explosion in space appeared like a second sun. The intense light pierced the night sky.
Even at such distance, separated by the atmosphere, people on the ground could feel the faint vibrations, stirring panic and chaos.
"What is that?!"
People raised their heads, staring at the blazing explosion in the sky. Even from so far away, the nuclear blast looked like a sun igniting in the darkness.
"A sun… in the night sky!"
"No!"
"It was… an explosion."
"Something blew up outside Earth!"
"Is this some kind of missile test from another country?"
"This is terrifying!"
People on the ground pointed to the sky in fear, many raising their cameras to record the terrifying sight.
But this was only the beginning.
After the first nuclear blast, more than a dozen rockets followed. One after another, nuclear warheads pierced the massive fireball of flames and darkness, detonating inside.
The fireball expanded wildly, flames rolling and roaring like a furious beast struggling violently, thrashing to destroy everything. The deafening explosions rolled outward, thick waves of fire surging across space.
Nuclear missile after missile continued to slam into the fireball, detonating one after another, swelling the explosion until the entire dark sky seemed to be pressed beneath its weight.
The night was lit as bright as day. Those on the ground felt the heat brush against their faces as the enormous fireball hung ominously in the sky, terrifying everyone with the fear that it might fall to Earth.
Once the last warhead detonated, the massive black fireball began to fade, dissolving into a hazy darkness.
And from the center of the nuclear blast, a towering figure slowly emerged.
Bathed in the radiation and firelight, his silhouette stood strong.
The man who had walked out of the nuclear explosion.
(To be continued.)
***
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