The three trails streaking across the sky with tails of deathly flame drew the attention of everyone on the ground.
Yet faced with the ultimate symbol of human weaponry, different groups reacted in vastly different ways.
Neos raised his head slightly, but his gaze did not linger on the rapidly falling nuclear warheads.
His eyes seemed to pierce through dimensions, turning toward the deeper backdrop beyond. There, an evil will filled with greed, decay, and finality was rapidly approaching through the cracks in Earth's shattered dimensional barrier.
A true evil god was about to descend.
The Primarchs remained impassive, even showing a trace of barely perceptible disdain.
To them, fission weapons of this level were practically standard firepower for the Imperium of Man, let alone compared to planet-killing nuclear weapons. Their energy efficiency was low, and there were countless ways to defend against them.
Never mind whether they could hit their targets—even if they detonated right in front of them, the high-temperature shockwaves and radiation would be, at most, a slightly stronger "warm breeze" to them now.
Ancient One watched the approaching points of light, and the last trace of color drained from her face.
She was not afraid of death. Rather, she felt utterly powerless and chilled by this meaningless, humiliating provocation.
She had protected Earth for centuries and understood the destructive power of nuclear weapons well. But she also knew even more clearly that, against the beings before her, such power did not even count as a scratch.
This was not an attack at all. It was foolish suicide, and an outrageous escalation in response to the other side's repeated restraint.
She no longer wanted to plead for humanity. Closing her eyes, she was left with only numbness, overwhelmed by the weary feeling of *Just destroy it already.