Antarctica, Liberty City underground city.
Mars, the consul of Eagle Country, stood before the enormous floor-to-ceiling window in his office, overlooking the vast steel city still under construction and improvement.
The brilliant lights nearby screened out the misery beyond.
He held a glass of whiskey, looking pleased with himself.
Proposing "joint lunar development and technology sharing" to Great Xia was, in his opinion, a brilliant move.
Whether Great Xia agreed or not, he could seize the high ground in both public opinion and morality.
So many countries would participate, working to secure humanity's future.
If you refused, Great Xia, you would be the odd one out.
When all those countries condemned Great Xia, its influence would plummet, while Eagle Country's influence would soar thanks to this project. As one declined and the other rose...
Knock, knock, knock!
A knock on the office door interrupted Mars's wandering thoughts.
He turned, somewhat displeased. His intelligence director, a man with a lean face, strode inside.
"Sir."
"Speak."
Mars pursed his lips, walked back to his seat, and sat down.
"Our 'eyes' inside Great Xia have sent back an important piece of intelligence."
The intelligence director swallowed, his voice somewhat tight.
"All their military-industrial conglomerates simultaneously switched to wartime production three hours ago."
Mars finally turned around, frowning slightly.
"To counter our lunar program? They certainly reacted quickly."
"No, sir."
The intelligence director shook his head and projected the data from his tablet into the air.
"Something... is very wrong."
"Their production lines are undergoing large-scale adjustments."
"All their heavy machinery factories are switching to the production of extremely large-caliber firearm components."
"Their arsenals have even abandoned their established TNT production lines and begun synthesizing cubic nitrogen explosives regardless of cost."
The composure on Mars's face vanished instantly.
He snatched the tablet and swiped