Song: Metal Gear Solid V - The Phantom Pain - Mike Oldfield ''Nuclear'' Lyrics

POV: ?

A nightmare. Based on one single word. Nobody would ever predict this outcome.

The Afternoon Nightmare.

"Remember. No one alive."

Somewhere in the mall, in the late afternoon, Britannian and Honorary Britannian citizens would come and go by. Life seems normal; despite the livid discrimination of the conquered peoples. What most call enlightenment, others would call subjugation and terror. The world seems divided into three distinct classes. Either you are a Britannian, an Honorary, or a Number. Most chose the third option. And nothing was simple at the first.

Many Britannian citizens were quite frankly dissatisfied with their government. They knew that whatever their royalty spouted were mere lies and propaganda. History is written by the victors. The empire, being the victors, would destroy any culture, any tradition, anything that is considered less to the perceived uniformity of Britannian rule. So-called Britannian citizens, commoners, who are in fact treated no better.

When you are not loyal, nor a productive member of society, you get discarded. That was Britannia's way in reality.

And now, for this moment, it would all pay for its hubris.

"Remember. No one alive."

"...AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

It all happened so fast. There were a few police officers that were seen, gathered in a few positions. For whatever reason, they pulled their guns and started shooting everybody down without discrimination. Men, women, and children. It did not matter who was the target. Everyone in the mall was a target. Britannian, Honorary Britannian, they were all the same. They were part of the old order. They needed to be gone, to tear the old order down.

Britannia. The Areas. Other nations. They all needed to burn. Otherwise, the cycle of hatred would continue to proliferate.

This was not the way to live.

The man was grateful, for everything that Skull Face had shown him. He showed him the true face of hypocrisy in the face of it all. This "massacre" would send the message. A bloody massacre. How nostalgic. This was just like that time, when he saw Princess Euphemia, dying at the hands of Zero.

Was it really Zero? Was it not due to his own actions?

He smiled snidely. For whatever reason, this no longer bothered him anymore. He became numb to it. She was merely a symbol of the past. Let the past die. That was the lesson. He needed to fully accept the truth in order to truly accomplish his goal of peace.

That this entire world would need to burn, for a complete renewal, is a fact.

The man thought.

Britannia boasts about strength. But they did not know what true strength is. They take, and take, and take, until everything falls under their own conceptual perception of reality. Individuality is hampered by might which only falls like any other fallible government and organization. Britannia could boast for a thousand years of ruling, but it would inevitably fall. It is a puppet, pulled along the strings. Everyone in this entire world is a puppet, to a so-called greater good. Peace is but an illusion, on both sides of the table. White and black pieces are all locked permanently as enemies in a stalemate. With or without Britannia, the pieces move forward, towards a history and an outcome, that diverges across several pathways, some consider to be unnatural.

And even in times of peace, Britannia is still a puppet, built on the lie that is peace, on the blood of an unworthy martyr, ruled by an Empress that only took part in the throne because of it. The Empress whose life that I took.

Mayhaps, there was a time when I would have been horrified by such action. But now I see, that it truly was salvation, for the Empress to be free, she must die, die to the lie of her own life.

The man, whose black armor was sleek and firm, with black leather clothing and a cape, with grey stripes. Echoes of a breathing apparatus were heard, causing deeper timbres, reminiscent of the wind. The mask was grey and its back had the design of a cobra's head, and the visor was simply a straight line that allowed his two hidden eyes to see, as if to symbolize his own motivations. On his shoulders, there were the words 'XOF'.

"It is done," The man said, speaking from the communicator on his mask. "With this, paranoia would be seeded within the peoples of Britannia. Britannian killing Britannian. Something that nobody would ever even think of. This is but the first step to squashing the hubris. I, who once thought of trying to change Britannia from within, was wrong. It is they who need to change, through a trial by fire. They all needed to burn. All of them. To ash. For it is through the ashes that a new creation can be born."

With every shot occurring, more civilians die, at the hands of the people that they should have trusted more than anyone. All of this was broadcasted live, across the homeland of Pendragon and all of the areas under Britannian rule.

The irony.

Distrust is the key to success.

After all, did not Zero teach him that?

"Sir," One of the XOF soldiers spoke from the communication channel. "As you've expected, the Britannians have immediately begun to mobilize their infantry and Knightmare squadrons towards the mall."

"Ah yes, thank you for the reminder," The man mused. "I suppose, it is time to commence the kill code."

"Yes, sir," The XOF soldier replied.

Within the hour, a terrible explosion would occur, as the bomb that had been implanted within the mall had exploded, causing a massive shockwave that would scorch through a few kilometers off, killing hundreds of people that were close to the blast radius. Orange flames and black smoke would be seen, clear and on the horizon.

And now...the world will know the true fear of the atom, as history breaks its back and falls to its knees. He thought.

POV: Clovis la Britannia.

Terror.

That's what Clovis would feel when he would see the orange fumes that were on the horizon, somewhere in the windows of his quarters.

Before, his mind was drawn towards two worries. For one, Code R had been raided, by an unknown force, who left no trace, and taken everything, including the test subject. The second was his worries of Cornelia coming into his area, in the hopes of finding Euphemia, as she made known to him from a recent call.

While on any other day, he would have been delighted to receive his older sister, today was definitely not a good day. But of course, he would have to save face. He cannot let Euphemia find out about the twisted experiments he was taking part of. Not that it mattered in some way as most of the evidence regarding his involvement was seemingly destroyed in the aftermath of the fire. There were only a trusted few such as General Bartley for instance who knew of it, as they were part of its operation.

But now, all of their research was stolen, which was also a major setback.

To think that he was also this close to understanding the real reason behind the murder of Lelouch and Nunnally, taken from him yet again.

And, while he continuously pondered his next move, there was an explosion that rocked the entire settlement.

"...Wha..."

The explosion was nothing like he'd ever seen before. It impacted somewhere near the city, engulfing about a few kilometers. It didn't reach his royal palace thankfully, but it was clearly visible. His eyes looked on, as he saw the fumes rise above the air. An explosion unheard of, which sends a chill running down his spine.