Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 289 The Shocks of the Nine Provinces
Humanity's first real contact with "space" was on October 4, 1957.

The Soviet Union launched Sputnik 1.

The small metal sphere, equipped with four antennas, came from Baikonur and circled the city three and a half times.

Americans were terrified.

They didn't understand, and refused to believe, how such a "barbaric" system could win the game.

To make matters worse, that damned thing was constantly beeping and sending signals.

Radio frequencies all over the world can hear it.

It was as if some kind of ghost was broadcasting "Вам/жопа."

(You're fucked / You guys are doomed)

The entire liberal camp has lost face.

Americans even gave that collective anxiety a name: "Sputnik moment".

It means, "We were slapped hard in the face."

After that, Explorer 1 was launched.

Twenty years later, GPS satellites were launched.

Its original purpose was simple.

To enable missiles to fly more steadily and accurately into other people's backyards.

This is a revolutionary technology, without a doubt.

But that was in 1978.

We are now discussing 1954.

In the days when televisions were still black and white and toothpaste contained fluoride, there was absolutely nothing in space.

At most, some debris from failed rocket experiments will drift by.

So, will Zhou Yi's missile actually be able to launch?

The answer is: You're lucky, you can.

The reason is not complicated.

A few years ago, the gentlemen on Capitol Hill approved the installation of the NSM system on this ship.

Naval strike missiles.

This is what the US military designation is RGM-184A.

A ship/land attack missile developed by Kongsberg Defense & Aerospace.

As for why I said "good luck"?
Naval strike missiles do not rely entirely on the Global Positioning System.

Because it also has two "good things".

One is called INS, an inertial navigation system.

No internet or satellite connection is needed.

It relies entirely on its internal gyroscope and accelerometer to continuously calculate its own trajectory.

Of course, it has its drawbacks.

The cumulative error will increase over time.

In other words, the longer it flies, the more it deviates from its course.

The other is EO, Electro-Optical, infrared terminal guidance.

When the missile flies close to the target, it will activate its sensors and match the outline in a pre-set image library.

After that, lock on, dive, it's simple, easy to understand and operate.

It requires no external signals, no manual remote control, and no pilot.

It is fully automatic, compact, and flies along an irregular, low-lying path, making it highly stealthy.

This was originally designed to address the area denial (A2/AD) operational environment for the next few decades.

So, you're lucky.

Really good.

And so, Zhou Yi stood naked inside the combat command center, making final confirmations of the parameters.

Heading calibration.

The flight is expected to last three minutes and ten seconds.

Then, he casually pressed the "launch" button.

The ship trembled slightly, and a few seconds later, the guide rails at the stern rose.

The robotic arm locked the angle, and the black-painted missile rose into the air.

Her silhouette was long and slender, her fins pressed tightly together, exuding a coldness that seemed out of place in this era.

One second. Two seconds.

A burst of flames erupted.

boom--! ! !
The missile rose from the ground and pierced through the clouds.

The birds were startled again and scattered, the trees shook violently, and ripples broke out on the water.

It swept across fields, hills, railways, villages, and towns.

The cow frantically crashed into the fence, the dogs barked wildly, and the horses kicked incessantly in front of the cart.

The missile ignored all of that.

It has no thoughts, nor does it need pity.

It only calculates wind speed, humidity, topographic curvature, and magnetic field disturbances. Gdansk, Torun, Wrocław, and Odélèse-Frankfurt.
At a distance of less than 30 kilometers from the target, the missile slightly raised its attitude.

Meanwhile, in Germania, the weather was perfect, with clear blue skies.

Ilsa heard it and saw it.

She fully enjoyed that blissful, dreamlike, and intoxicating experience.

She was burning up, trembling all over, tears streaming down her face, and she didn't blink.

She felt herself melting, as if her whole body was about to float away.

She didn't know whether to cheer or cry; she only felt that everything was trembling.

She was so happy she almost fainted.

He was on stage.

Head of State.

The beam of light shone on his silver-gray hair, making him look like a god descending to earth.

He spreads his arms, leaning against the banners and bronze sculptures, as if the entire nation is in his embrace.

Everyone was watching him.

In a daze, in Ilsa's world, there was only him left, and no one else.

"There is no place for traitors!"

"The weak have no mercy!"

"Those who waver have no tomorrow!"

"We will not stop!"

"We can't stop!"

We must keep moving forward!

"For the glory of the nation!"

"For the future of our children and grandchildren!"

"For the eternal destiny of the empire!"

Suddenly, something pierced the sky.

Nobody knows where it came from.

There were no signs, no warnings whatsoever.

Only a gray line suddenly fell from the void.

Then--

BOOM!!!
An indescribable white light expanded and extended in an instant.

It is unlike lightning, unlike thunder, unlike any phenomenon that can be described.

That was a pure will to destroy, manifesting in physical form.

Next came the fire.

A blazing, expanding, roaring sun, with fury reaching thousands of degrees, devoured buildings, flags, rituals, honors, and flesh and blood.

The shockwave, like a landslide and a tsunami, instantly submerged the high platform.

The broken steel beams flew up like pieces of paper, and limbs exploded into mist in the air.

Half a second later, the sound reached the crowd.

No, that wasn't a sound.

It is the world itself that is lamenting.

boom---!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The square seemed to have been struck by a giant hammer, the sound deafening.

Screams, cries, marble, soaring golden eagles, and falling towers are all piled up together.

Ilsa couldn't hear anything anymore.

My ears are bleeding, and all I can see is blankness.

She didn't know if she was flying or if the ground was collapsing.

The world spins, day and night are reversed, upside down is turned upside down, and heaven and earth collapse.

Ilsa tried to open her eyes, but could only see dark clouds rising into the sky.

The flag transformed into a torch, tumbling through the air.

And that figure... that figure—he's gone!
The flames scorched the wreckage; the black uniforms, the flagpoles, and the thousands of "loyalists" below the stage were all torn apart, burned, and melted.

Ilsa's face was covered in grime, mixed with tears, and most of her hair was burned off.

She crawled and curled up, vomiting a sticky substance from her mouth—it was unclear whether it was blood, water, or internal organs.

The "bliss" I just experienced was not an illusion.

The world is truly on fire.

Some people are running. Some people are crying. Some people are dying. Some people are shouting "Führer!"

But their leader is gone.

It was completely erased along with the stone platform, the statue, and the words by some incomprehensible force.

There was no body, and no final eulogy.

There was only a huge hole, burning continuously amidst smoke and stench.

(End of this chapter)