Chapter 19: (Title at the Bottom)

I stood at the bridge of my newly christened warship, Sentinel. The vast command deck gleamed with the cool glow of holographic displays, the hum of machinery filling the air. A massive viewport stretched before me, revealing Earth below—a planet on the verge of losing its sovereignty.

"Is everything ready?" I asked.

"Yes, sir," Aurora, my second-in-command, responded instantly.

"Then let's begin."

With a thought, I teleported to the bridge of the Sentinel, the familiar shift in gravity settling as I took my seat.

"Jarvis, the ship is yours. Control it."

"Understood, sir," the AI replied as it seamlessly integrated with the ship's systems.

"Status report."

"Our forces are fully mobilized. Pilots and soldiers are in position, awaiting orders."

I leaned forward. "Deploy the interceptors and fighters. I want every military movement on Earth mapped—no stone unturned."

Across the skies, streaks of blue light pierced the clouds as our crafts descended. Silent and unseen, the squadrons spread across North America, Europe, and Asia, their advanced sensors harvesting data in real-time.

Squadron Leader Cain, call sign Raptor, led his team over the U.S.

"Raptor-One to command, cloaking engaged. Scanning military installations now."

"Copy that. Maintain stealth," Aurora's voice crackled in his comms.

Cain's sensors flared. Below, American forces were already mobilizing. Fighter jets scrambled from airbases, their movements erratic, uncertain.

"Looks like they know something's up," Raptor-Two noted.

"They're guessing in the dark," Cain replied. "Marking strategic sites now."

Across the Atlantic, Specter Squadron intercepted encrypted transmissions from NATO. Emergency meetings. Rapid deployments. The world braced for an invasion they couldn't see.

"Specter-One to Sentinel. They're preparing for war."

"Let them. We're already ahead," I murmured from the bridge.

The world's illusion of security shattered in an instant.

Dozens of interceptors decloaked above key military installations. The sky tore open with the roar of engines as our forces emerged, executing maneuvers beyond human comprehension. Within moments, chaos erupted worldwide.

In the U.S., air raid sirens wailed as F-22s and F-35s scrambled into the skies.

"Eagle-One to command! We have incoming! Hundreds of unidentified craft! Engaging now!"

An F-22 locked onto a target and fired a missile. The interceptor twisted at an impossible angle, avoiding the attack before accelerating behind its pursuer. A split-second later—BOOM!—a lance of energy reduced the fighter jet to debris.

Across Europe, Eurofighters and Rafales tried to intercept, only to find themselves hopelessly outmatched.

"They're too fast!" a pilot screamed as his target defied physics, rolling at a 90-degree angle before vanishing from sight. Two jets collided trying to pursue it.

Another interceptor dove toward the ground, nearly scraping the rooftops of London before pulling up at the last possible moment, causing two pursuing jets to crash into a high-rise.

Above the Pacific, Japan's Air Self-Defense Force clashed with the invaders in a breathtaking aerial battle. Japanese F-15s managed to get missile locks, launching a barrage of Sidewinders.

"Direct hit!" one pilot yelled.

But the interceptor emerged from the explosion unscathed. It tilted backward, floating in mid-air, before instantly accelerating toward the attacker. With a single energy burst, the F-15 disintegrated.

"They're toying with us!"

China and Russia deployed their full might—J-20s, Su-57s, and waves of missile defenses. The sky became a wall of firepower.

"Massive missile launch detected," Ghost-One reported from the Pacific. "They're throwing everything at us."

"Let them try," I said coldly.

The interceptors weaved through the rocket storm with inhuman precision. Some baited missiles into circling back toward Earth's own forces. Others vanished, only to reappear behind their targets.

Over Moscow, a Russian ace executed a perfect Cobra Maneuver, forcing an interceptor to overshoot. But the enemy ship stopped mid-air, rotating effortlessly before firing. The Su-35 disintegrated.

One by one, Earth's defenses crumbled.

Every nation had launched its best—none had stood a chance. Debris rained over cities and seas. Fighter pilots, trained in Earth's most advanced aircraft, were powerless against a force they couldn't comprehend.

On the Sentinel's bridge, I watched it unfold.

Aurora turned to me. "Sir, we have full aerial dominance. No military force remains capable of resistance."

I exhaled, gripping the armrest. "So this is the best Earth has to offer?"

A desperate transmission broke through.

"Who are you?! Why are you doing this?!"

I leaned forward, my voice calm, unwavering.

"This planet no longer belongs to you. It belongs to me."

The transmission cut.

I turned to Jarvis. "Begin the next phase. Occupation starts now."

As Zero Celestia declared Earth his own, the world's leaders were thrown into a state of chaos. In a hidden underground bunker beneath Washington D.C., the President of the United States, flanked by his top military advisors, slammed his fists on the table. The room was filled with urgent voices, screens displaying real-time footage of Earth's forces being obliterated.

"Who the hell is this guy?!" the Secretary of Defense roared, watching as yet another F-22 vanished in a blinding explosion.

"Their technology is… beyond anything we've ever seen," General Carter, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, muttered grimly. "They're wiping us out like we're insects."

The President turned to the NASA Director. "Have we traced the source of that transmission?"

"No, sir. It was encrypted with an unknown method. But…" The director hesitated.

"But what? Spit it out!"

"We intercepted several communications before this all started—strange anomalies in satellite feeds, unexplained disappearances of data. There was also an island that we lost track of… a place called Starfell."

"An island?" The President's face darkened. "Are you telling me these invaders came from Earth?"

The room went silent. Then, from the UK Prime Minister's emergency line, a call came in. The British leader's face was pale, sweat dripping from his forehead.

"We've lost control of the skies, Mr. President. RAF command is in shambles, and our fleets in the Atlantic are vanishing. This isn't an invasion—it's extermination."

In Beijing, China

The Chinese President stood in the heart of the underground war room, surrounded by the highest-ranking officials of the People's Liberation Army. The air was thick with tension as holographic projections displayed real-time footage—Chinese warplanes being torn apart like paper, missile defense systems failing to lock onto their targets.

"We cannot surrender!" a general roared, slamming his fist on the table. "We will deploy everything! If they think we will kneel, they are gravely mistaken!"

"Prepare our hypersonic and nuclear warheads!" another commander barked. "We'll rain fire on their forces!"

But as the command was given, something unthinkable happened. The massive missile silos hidden beneath the deserts, mountains, and secret facilities of China came under attack—not through hacking, but through direct and brutal force.

Explosions rocked underground bunkers as high-energy strikes obliterated entire launch sites. Satellite imagery revealed the terrifying truth—enemy drones had surgically dismantled China's nuclear capabilities before they could even be used.

The war room shook violently as another explosion rocked a distant facility. A desperate officer ran into the chamber, breathless.

"Mr. President! Our launch sites are being destroyed one by one! We've lost 60% of our long-range capabilities already!"

The President's grip on the table tightened, his expression unreadable. "And the enemy?"

"They're not responding to any form of diplomacy. They're erasing our ability to fight back. Sir, at this rate… we'll be defenseless within hours."

A cold silence fell over the room.

The President inhaled deeply, then exhaled. He turned to his generals, his voice steel.

"Then we mobilize the ground forces. If we cannot strike them from the sky, we will make them bleed for every inch they take. Call upon every soldier, every militia, every citizen if we must. If this is to be the end of China as we know it, then we will make it a graveyard for our enemies."

His words sent a shiver through the room. There was no surrender. If the heavens had forsaken them, then the earth itself would rise in defiance.

In Moscow, Russia

Deep beneath the Kremlin, in the fortified underground command center, chaos reigned. Alarms blared, red lights flashing as officers scrambled to make sense of the disaster unfolding above. Russia's Su-57 squadrons—its most advanced fighter jets—had been annihilated. Their powerful S-500 missile defense systems lay in ruins. Every attempt to strike back had failed.

A massive screen displayed the devastation in real time—Moscow's skies littered with wreckage, military convoys reduced to smoldering husks. Their space-based defenses had been wiped out in minutes.

At the center of the room, surrounded by his top generals, the Russian President clenched his jaw, his hands pressed against the metal war table.

"We have one option left," came the gravelly voice of General Viktor Mikhailov, a veteran of countless wars. His eyes, old yet burning with defiance, scanned the room. "We detonate everything. If they think they can take this planet, they'll have to do it over nuclear fire."

A heavy silence followed. The weight of his words settled over the command center like a death sentence.

"General…" a younger officer hesitated, his voice tight. "What if our nukes do nothing? What if they survive?"

Mikhailov's gaze didn't waver. "Then we die standing."

The room remained still, as if the very air had frozen. Finally, the President straightened.

"Prepare the launch sequence," he commanded. "If we cannot win, we will make sure they pay for every drop of Russian blood spilled."

Around the room, grim faces nodded. In that moment, it was clear—Russia would not kneel. If their enemy had come to take their land, then they would inherit nothing but ashes.

In Berlin, Germany

Inside an underground NATO command bunker, the atmosphere was suffocating. Generals and political leaders from across Europe gathered, their faces pale under the harsh fluorescent lights. The massive digital war map in front of them showed red markers blinking out one by one—signifying lost airbases, obliterated fleets, and the rapid collapse of their defenses.

Chancellor Reinhardt stood at the head of the room, gripping the edges of the conference table. His voice was sharp, commanding.

"We need to consolidate what remains of our forces," he said, scanning the desperate faces of European leaders. "If we fall apart now, we will be nothing more than scattered nations waiting for execution."

French President Moreau slammed his fist on the table. "What forces?! Our Rafales, our Eurofighters, all destroyed! Our air superiority is gone, our missile defenses are worthless! These things… they fight like gods!"

"Then we use what we have left," replied General Klaus Weber, the Supreme Commander of NATO forces. "Ground warfare. Guerilla tactics. If they take the skies, then we make sure they never take the land."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room. Europe had fallen from the air, but the war was far from over.

"Mobilize the resistance," Reinhardt ordered. "We will not surrender."

In Tokyo, Japan

Above Japan, the sky was a storm of fire and debris. The Japan Air Self-Defense Force (JASDF) had fought valiantly, launching every available F-15, F-2, and even their prototype F-X fighters to counter the impossible threat.

Squadron Leader Takashi Saito gritted his teeth as he banked his F-15 sharply, barely dodging a blast from one of the alien interceptors. His squadron was in ruins. Out of the original 30 aircraft, only four remained.

"Takashi!" a desperate voice crackled through the radio. "We can't—ahhh!"

Another explosion. Another lost comrade.

The enemy fighter hovered in front of him, defying the laws of physics. It watched him, as if toying with its prey. Then, in an instant, it vanished, reappearing behind him.

"Damn it!" Takashi yanked the stick, pulling his aircraft into a last-ditch maneuver.

A bright light flashed.

And then—blackness.

On the ground, in the underground war room of the Japanese government, the Prime Minister watched the last of their fighter squadrons vanish from the tactical display.

"…We are alone now," one of his ministers whispered.

"No," the Prime Minister said, his hands tightening into fists. "We still have our spirit. Prepare for a national resistance."

In Seoul, South Korea

The demilitarized zone, once one of the most heavily fortified borders in the world, was now a graveyard.

South Korean and U.S. forces stationed at the DMZ had put up a valiant defense. Missile batteries fired relentlessly, tanks rolled into position, and their air force had been deployed in full force.

None of it had mattered.

Lieutenant Park Jisoo crouched behind the remains of a destroyed bunker, her rifle clutched tightly in her hands. Around her, the battlefield was littered with burning wreckage and the bodies of fallen soldiers. The enemy forces hovered ominously in the sky, untouched.

"Command, this is Bravo Team!" she shouted into her radio. "The line is broken! The enemy—"

A monstrous explosion erupted nearby, cutting off her transmission. The ground trembled.

In Seoul, President Kim slammed his hands on the war table. "Get the civilians to shelters! Order all remaining units to regroup for urban combat!"

A grim silence filled the room. Seoul would not be abandoned. If the enemy thought they could take the city, they would have to fight for every street, every building, every inch of Korean soil.

In New Delhi, India

Inside the Indian Space Research Organization's main headquarters, scientists and military leaders gathered in a desperate bid for survival.

"We have one last chance," General Singh said, his voice unwavering. "Project Vajra—are we ready?"

Dr. Patel, one of India's top scientists, adjusted his glasses. "The experimental weapons have never been tested in real combat… but at this point, we have no other choice."

In orbit, the enemy fleet remained untouched, looming over the Earth like gods preparing to pass judgment.

Then—without warning—dozens of ballistic missiles launched from Indian soil.

These were no ordinary warheads. They carried cutting-edge technology, weapons designed to counter unknown extraterrestrial threats.

The missiles streaked through the atmosphere at blinding speeds, their warheads crackling with experimental energy fields.

One struck an enemy interceptor directly.

For a brief, flickering moment—the alien shield collapsed.

An explosion followed.

The room erupted into cheers.

"We did it!" a scientist shouted.

But the celebration was short-lived.

The remaining enemy ships adjusted instantly, shifting their formation. Their shields adapted. The next wave of missiles never reached their targets.

Silence filled the war room.

"…They're learning," Dr. Patel whispered in horror.

General Singh exhaled sharply. "Then we keep hitting them. Call every last unit we have. If we go down, we take as many of them with us as we can."

The War Had Only Just Begun

Across the world, governments scrambled, military forces fell, and entire nations faced annihilation. Yet humanity refused to bow. From the ruins of their shattered defenses, a new war was beginning—not of jets and missiles, but of resistance.

Zero Celestia might have declared Earth his—but its people were not ready to surrender.