Soviet Union, Plesetsk Cosmodrome.
A Proton rocket began ignition, then launched into the sky.
Soon, the rocket entered its designated orbit. The second-stage booster separated, leaving only the Traceless Extension Module loaded with satellites.
Normally, at this point, the Traceless Extension Module would gradually break apart, releasing hundreds of satellites into low Earth orbit.
But just then, a speck of light rose from across the Atlantic Ocean.
In the Ural Mountains, atop a snow-covered peak, a humanoid figure made entirely of steel had been standing in silence like a statue. But now, it suddenly opened its eyes.
It slowly raised its head and stared unblinking into the sky. Mechanically, it shifted its head to a specific angle, and the six lenses in its eyes rapidly adjusted their spacing. Across nearly a thousand kilometers, it saw a white line climbing in the distant sky. It zoomed in, clearly capturing the missile's appearance. In the next instant, a flash of light lit up.
The scene was transmitted through the magic communication network built into its body to a laboratory hundreds of meters beneath London.
There, Murphy lay on a long chair with his eyes closed, his posture relaxed. Yet through dozens of ground observation stations and hundreds of radars, his gaze "saw" the burst of flame after the Traceless Extension Module was struck.
And the tendrils of his mind were spread through hundreds of thousands of sensors and magic-control devices of all kinds across the globe.
With the immense computing power of Pioneer and the other supercomputers, he was now like a deity incarnated into billions of forms, possessing a thousand eyes and ten thousand hands, and in those hands he held weapons powerful enough to conquer the world.
At that moment, he watched indifferently as that empty shell, which had been