The tactical hall aboard the flagship Dawn was so dead silent you could hear the tick of coolant cycling through the pipes.
Jill stood before the massive global holographic projection table, her face white as paper.
On the screen, the crimson alert zones representing the golden spores were expanding at a hopeless, exponential rate.
"At current wind speeds, the spore cloud will cover the west coast of North America within three hours."
"Four hours until it reaches Asian continental airspace. Five hours until the European defense line collapses entirely."
The emotionless electronic voice cut into everyone's nerves like a dull blade.
Jill slammed her fist into the console. The alloy tabletop let out a deep, shuddering boom.
"Annette's vaccine needs twelve hours minimum! There's no way we hold out that long!"
She spun around immediately and issued a top-clearance order to the communications officer: "Patch me through to the Global Joint Defense Council. Emergency session, now!"
In under a minute, dozens of holographic projections flickered to life across the tactical hall.
They showed the supreme military commanders of every major theater of war, along with the handful of remaining heads of state.
But in this moment, every one of these people who held humanity's highest authority had the same look of utter helplessness written across their faces.
"Conventional air defense weapons are useless against spores at the microscopic level."
"We even deployed weather weapons to try redirecting the wind patterns, but the effect was negligible."
The North American theater commander's voice was hoarse and dry. "Commander Valentine, every intercept contingency we had has failed."
The hall sank into suffocating silence again.
Humanity's proud war machine, when faced with this kind of genetic-level attack from a higher dimension of warfare, looked clumsy and laughable.
Everyone was waiting for the countdown to death to run out. A shadow called extinction hung over every heart in the room.
"Actually, we have one last option."
In that deathly quiet, a voice broke through. Slightly aged, but rock-steady.
It was Dr. Gideon, chief meteorological physicist of Star Fire's Strategic Division.
Every eye in the room locked onto the white-haired old man.
Dr. Gideon pushed his glasses up and transmitted an enormously complex dynamic model of global atmospheric circulation to the main screen.
"Wesker's spores may possess microscopic intelligence, but they still can't defy the laws of macroscopic fluid dynamics."
"They have to rely on long atmospheric waves in the stratosphere, the jet stream, to achieve global dispersal."
Dr. Gideon's fingers swept rapidly across the screen, marking several critical atmospheric nodes.
"If we generate sufficiently massive turbulence and absolute vacuum bands at these core nodes..."
"We can forcibly sever the jet stream's transport pathway and buy the ground teams at least ten hours for vaccine development!"
The people in the holographic conference room froze for a beat. Then a general spoke up with a deep frown.
"Create vacuum bands that block the entire global stratosphere? Doctor, that would take an absolutely terrifying amount of energy. Conventional explosives can't do it!"
"I know conventional explosives can't do it." Dr. Gideon took a deep breath. A flash of grim resolve passed through his clouded eyes.
"But what if we launch every high-yield nuclear warhead currently on combat standby, worldwide, into these stratospheric nodes?"
The moment the words left his mouth, the temperature in the tactical hall seemed to plunge.
Everyone sucked in a sharp breath, staring at this madman of a scientist in shock.
"Detonate thousands of nuclear warheads consecutively in the stratosphere? Doctor, have you lost your mind?!"
The North American commander shot to his feet. "The electromagnetic pulse from the detonations would instantly cripple every communications and satellite network on the planet!"
"And that's not all. Nuclear fallout would blanket the globe with subsequent rainfall!"
"We'd be looking at decades of nuclear winter! Tens of millions of civilians would die from radiation and secondary disasters!"
"This isn't saving humanity. This is doing Wesker's job for him!"
Facing the accusations and fury of the room, Dr. Gideon didn't flinch. His gaze was so calm it was frightening.
"If we don't do this, in a few hours every human being on Earth becomes a golden monster crawling on all fours."
"Compared to total genetic extinction, nuclear winter at least lets humanity keep the dignity of dying as human beings."
The doctor turned to Jill, his tone heavy with a kind of tragic resolve.
"The side effects of nuclear detonation are horrifying, of course. But those are problems to clean up after humanity survives first."
"Commander Valentine, the decision is yours. Death by nuclear fire, or death by mutation?"
Just as the commanders of each nation reached for the launch codes with trembling fingers, ready to issue that suicidal nuclear order...
A mysterious figure draped in a deep black cloak, face completely obscured, appeared abruptly at the dead center of the holographic projection.
"Nukes are crude toys. All they'll do is destroy this planet."
The stranger's voice was cold and mechanical, carrying an indifference that sat above all living things.
"And who the hell are you?" Jill looked at the stranger's projection.
"Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is that I have what you need."
The stranger slowly raised a right hand. Hovering above the palm was a transparent glass vial containing a churning crimson liquid.
The liquid seemed alive, slamming against the walls of the vial, radiating an aura of pure, violent annihilation.
The instant Jill got a clear look at the liquid, her whole body went rigid. It was the most incomprehensible force she'd ever witnessed, back in the ruins of Raccoon City.
"That's... the explosive that mysterious squad used at the Raccoon City hospital?"
"Its name is God's Blood," the stranger explained calmly.
"This substance triggers an intense physical neutralization reaction at the microscopic level, instantaneously creating localized collapses at ten thousand times atmospheric pressure."
"Most importantly, it's zero radiation, zero residue."
The stranger asked for nothing in return. They simply transmitted a set of precise coordinates and an extraction code to Jill's terminal.
"The coordinates have been sent to you. They can be loaded into any nation's ICBM silos for delivery."
"This is your only chance. Don't waste it." The moment the words ended, the stranger's figure vanished like a cut signal.
The conference room was dead silent. Every eye turned to the woman who actually held the reins of the Star Fire fleet.
"Commander Valentine, is what he said true?" one after another, voices rose to ask Jill.
Jill closed her eyes and drew in a long, deep breath.
When she opened them again, every trace of hesitation had been replaced by absolute, ice-cold resolve.
"I don't think he has any reason to deceive us now. Dr. Gideon, upload the attack node coordinates immediately."
Jill swept her gaze across every head of state in the holographic ring, her voice as hard and cold as a blade drawn from its sheath.
"Within two hours, I want every ICBM silo with intercontinental strike capability at ignition-ready status."
No one objected. On the edge of the cliff of extinction, this was the only rope humanity had left to grab.
"God help us all," the Russian general sighed heavily, and cut the feed.
[This novel is now COMPLETE. Read the entire series right now on Patreon: patreon.com/NiaXD]