Mars. Command Headquarters.

  A red sunset, like a thread of fire, slides across the dome of the capital. The main hall of the headquarters, illuminated by the cold glow of holographic panels, seems lifeless in its majestic silence. In the center of the room, standing before a tall communication screen, Commander Alexander stands like a stone statue, preparing for an important conversation. He gestures, and the communications officer silently connects the required line.

  A bluish hologram of President Marcus flares to life in the air. He appears as a sharp, bright figure, still wearing the same austere suit that has become his signature. His face is serious, and his voice — emotionless.

  — Report, Alexander.

  Alexander straightens his uniform, pulls his shoulders back, and, after a moment’s thought, begins:

  — Mr. President, today we received another report from our agents. If it’s accurate — the Central Belt has begun rearmament. With their tech base, they’ll quickly build a fleet comparable to ours. We may not be fast enough.

  Marcus nods, never losing his composure. His face remains unreadable, even under the weight of such news. He looks into Alexander’s eyes, as if confirming that they both knew this moment was inevitable.

  — We knew it would come to this. We’re ready. I’m informing you: we’re close to our goal. The decisive battle is approaching. Mercury’s fleet will be destroyed. The planet will fall. The corporation will be taken. After a lightning-fast victory, we’ll unite the fleets and wipe out the resistance cells on Earth. The Belt will be left without ergon. Then — an ultimatum. They will choose: submission or destruction.

  Alexander inclines his head slightly but doesn’t reply immediately. There’s something more than just calculation in his eyes. He feels the tension, as if the coming storm is already near.

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  — Everything is proceeding according to plan, Mr. President. Cruiser production has been accelerated. However... there’s another problem we can’t ignore.

  Marcus narrows his eyes, listening.

  — Speak.

  Alexander pauses, gathering his strength before continuing.

  — We’re receiving reports of a new phenomenon. A software virus — infecting living people. It spreads under the guise of faith — they call it the god Kairus. Our agents are dying. Hundreds are already "infected." We’re losing personnel.

  Marcus, seemingly unable to believe what he’s hearing, struggles to absorb the information. His voice is almost a whisper, as though it can’t be true.

  — A software virus? Infecting people? How is that possible?

  — We don’t know. But it’s real. People are fleeing. En masse. To Mars. Refugees. The flow is becoming uncontrollable. I was forced... to temporarily close the borders.

  Marcus’s hologram flares with anger. His voice booms like thunder in a clear sky.

  — Are you insane, Alexander? These people — we’re fighting for them! We’re obligated to take them in. Give them food, blood... and above all — protection!

  Alexander lowers his gaze. In his eyes — the understanding that he’s trapped, but also the determination to do what is right.

  — I understand, Mr. President. But where is the guarantee the virus won’t come with them? We don’t know how it works, how it spreads…

  — That’s your job. Find out. Ensure security. But don’t you dare abandon those people. Not a single one must be turned away.

  Alexander doesn’t avert his eyes. His face grows resolute. He steps forward, as if accepting the final decision.

  — Understood. I’ll see it done, Mr. President.

  Marcus’s hologram flickers. His voice softens, as if to emphasize the importance of his final words.

  — One more thing, Alexander. Don’t forget: faith — can be a weapon. But we too know how to wield a weapon.

  The hologram vanishes, leaving behind only a faint glow. The commander remains alone. The hall is still filled with the hum of servers and a dim light that more and more resembles the pale gleam of a coming war. Alexander stands alone, the president’s final words echoing in his mind. He knows he now bears not only the task of protecting Mars and its people, but also of finding a way to control the virus — and perhaps, to turn it into a weapon.