53: Humble people

The crushing defeat in the Battle of Colombia was like a resounding slap, fiercely striking the faces of all the high-ranking federal officials.

The wreckage of those 28 stealth fighters, which represented their final technological pride, not only announced the total bankruptcy of their air superiority but also stood like cold tombstones.

They sounded the final death knell for the old era dominated by traditional military logic.

However, those remnants of the old era trapped in Washington were clearly unwilling to admit their failure just yet.

Over the next few months, like a gambler who had lost his mind, they frantically threw their remaining chips onto the table one by one.

They dispatched the B-2 "Spirit" stealth strategic bomber, a national asset that once made the whole world fearful, attempting to use its superior stealth capabilities and massive payload to launch a devastating strategic strike on the Coalition's rear.

However, these black reapers with wingspans like prehistoric giant birds were immediately captured by the Coalition's ubiquitous "AI Cognitive Filtering Radar" the moment they crossed the front line.

They were met with a dense network of anti-aircraft missile fire, far more intense than before.

Accompanied by a series of massive explosions, several B-2 bombers worth billions of dollars turned into brilliant fireballs in the night sky over Missouri, without having dropped a single bomb.

They launched AGM-129 stealth cruise missiles, which were once The Pentagon's primary weapon for tearing through enemy air defense systems, also possessing top-tier stealth capabilities.

But now, these missiles, which should have been non-existent on radar screens, were marked as dozens of clearly visible red dots in the Coalition's air defense command center.

The vast majority of them were easily intercepted mid-way by the Coalition's anti-missile missiles in a manner akin to "shooting clay pigeons."

They even dispatched MQ-9B "Reaper" drones, attempting to salvage a shred of dignity through drone-on-drone warfare.

But those federal drones, which required remote control by rear operators via satellite signals, were like a group of toddlers learning to walk challenging a world-class hacker when faced with the god-like electronic warfare capabilities of white flower.

Their control signals were easily seized by white flower the moment they took off.

Then, in the command center of The Pentagon in Washington, Miles and her generals stared dumbfounded at the big screen as their own drone swarm performed a comical waltz in the air, even forming the shape of a giant middle finger, before collectively turning around and crashing into their own airbase.

This was no longer war.

This was unilateral humiliation.

The only thing that brought a shred of comfort to the federal side was perhaps the "Dark Eagle" hypersonic missile they had just pulled out of the test range.

In the initial few attacks, this national asset, which penetrated terminal defenses at over ten times the speed of sound, did indeed successfully break through the Coalition's air defense system and strike several set targets.

But this minor victory did not make McConnell and the others happy for long.

Because they soon discovered with despair that, after paying the price a few times, that mysterious Paradox Technology seemed to have completed an upgrade to their anti-missile system overnight.

In subsequent attacks, the Dark Eagle missiles didn't even have time to enter the terminal acceleration phase, which was the hardest to intercept.

Just as they were launched, while still in the relatively slow inertial cruise phase, they were precisely "called out" by a new type of kinetic interceptor launched by the Coalition from orbital space.

Every interception was like using one bullet to hit another bullet flying in the air at an altitude of tens of thousands of meters.

This near-miraculous anti-missile precision completely shattered the Federal government's last shred of fantasy.

They had played all their cards.

...

Washington, The White House, underground bunker.

The atmosphere here was colder than the winter outside.

The constant setbacks on the front line had Miles, McConnell, and all the interest groups behind them sitting on pins and needles.

Now, Miles and her The White House even had to face the occasional bombing by the B-2 stealth strategic bombers in the hands of the Coalition.

They convened closed-door meetings again and again to discuss countermeasures.

But in the conference room, apart from hysterical roars and mutual accusations, no one could come up with any decent idea.

"Why? Can anyone tell me why this is happening?!" A chairman of an oil giant, a man who was once accustomed to manipulating everything with money, was now roaring at everyone present like a helpless child. "Our military, why did our invincible army that had fought all over the world lose so miserably to a group of California militia?"

No one could answer his question.

Even that Secretary of Defense, who used to be the most hawkish, was now sitting dejectedly in the corner like a defeated rooster, saying nothing.

He knew better than anyone that they had already lost this war.

It wasn't lost on courage, nor was it lost on troop strength.

They lost on a dimension they completely failed to understand.

They lost to an era.

Just when everyone was at their wits' end and the entire conference room was filled with an atmosphere of despair, Miles, who had been silent, suddenly proposed a solution that wasn't really a solution, in a hoarse voice like a drowning person clutching at the last straw.

"We… perhaps we can seek international intervention." She said slowly, "Seek help from other major powers."

Once this proposal was made, everyone was stunned.

Seek help from whom? China? Russia? They were dying for the United States to collapse completely.

"Miles, have you lost your mind?" McConnell was the first to react, looking in disbelief at the puppet he had single-handedly propped up. "Have you forgotten what our status is now? We are the legitimate federal government! How can we bow our heads to foreign powers?"

"Then do we have any other choice now?" Miles suddenly exploded, screaming hysterically, "Either we sit here and wait to die, waiting for that bastard Elon to drive the electric tanks he developed over The White House lawn and send us all to the execution ground!"

"Or, we cast aside that ridiculous dignity and use the last things in our hands to trade for a glimmer of survival!"

Her words were like thunder exploding in everyone's ears.

Using national interests to trade for external intervention.

This was an act of treason through and through.

But for these old-era oligarchs who had long been blinded by greed and fear, as long as they could preserve their power and wealth, what did it matter if they sold out a country that was no longer theirs?

...

The next day.

New York, United Nations headquarters.

In that solemn Security Council chamber, Carmen, the U.S. permanent representative to the United Nations who had disappeared for a long time, finally reappeared in people's field of vision.

He looked much more haggard, but he still tried his best to straighten his back, attempting to maintain the last bit of decency of a superpower representative.

He cleared his throat, faced the microphone, and delivered a proposal that made everyone present show strange expressions in a tone full of compassion.

"... In view of the unfortunate armed conflict currently taking place in our country, which has caused huge casualties and a humanitarian disaster for innocent civilians."

"In order to avoid unnecessary casualties and to restore peace and stability in our country as soon as possible," he paused, took a deep breath, "I hereby, on behalf of the government of the United States of America, formally request the United Nations to intervene and mediate, and to send a multinational observer mission to supervise a ceasefire between the two sides and return to the negotiating table."

When his voice fell, a silence of more than ten seconds appeared in the entire conference hall.

Many country representatives present looked at him with complex eyes mixed with mockery, pity, and a hint of schadenfreude.

They seemed to be saying:

You, the guy who used to bypass the United Nations, hold high the banner of "human rights over sovereignty," wantonly interfere in other countries' internal affairs, and stir up trouble everywhere...

You, the bully who once treated the United Nations as your own backyard, coming and going as you pleased...

You have this day too?

You have the day where you wag your tail and run back to ask the United Nations to "uphold justice"?

The tides of fortune turn.

There is no drama in this world more ironic than this.

Although legally speaking, the Washington government that Carmen now represents is still the only legitimate representative of the United States recognized by the United Nations.

But everyone present was no fool.

They could all see that with the changing situation of the war, how long this "legitimate representative" status could be maintained was uncertain.

Many "little brother" countries that used to rely on the United States and obey its orders also had their attitudes become ambiguous at this moment.

They no longer stood up to echo immediately after the U.S. representative spoke as they used to.

Instead, they chose silence or simply whispered to other country representatives beside them, pretending not to hear.

In the end, this proposal was shelved indefinitely amidst awkward silence and various procedural prevarications without even entering the formal voting stage.

This result, Carmen had long expected.

Or rather, this was simply a part of their plan.

From the perspective of national interests, several major powers led by China did not want to see the United States regain peace so quickly.

A divided, internally draining, and constantly bleeding United States was the United States that best served their interests.

They needed time to digest and fill the huge power vacuum left by the sudden exit of the United States on a global scale.

Moreover, everyone knew it well.

Although it was that mysterious Paradox Technology that provided a large amount of advanced military equipment to the Coalition United States.

But most of the rare metals and basic industrial products needed to manufacture these equipments almost all came from China's massive industrial system.

Most of the military supplies of the Coalition army other than weapons—from military rations to medicines, from military uniforms to backpacks—were also continuously shipped from China to the U.S. West Coast through a busy route across the Pacific Ocean.

It can be said that it was China's world-factory-level industrial production capacity that was continuously transfusing blood for this nascent regime, allowing the Coalition to avoid the chaos of skyrocketing prices and material shortages in the face of war and blockade.

In this case, hoping that China would agree to mediate was tantamount to a pipe dream.

Carmen knew that his public performance at the United Nations General Assembly was just to sell a miserable image to the whole world and pave the way for their next actions.

After this general assembly ended, he did not leave New York immediately.

Instead, he found the permanent representatives of China, Russia, the UK, and France to the United Nations through secret channels respectively.

In an inconspicuous private club in Manhattan, he finally tore off his last bit of disguise and revealed his most humble and ugly side to these former opponents.

"... Gentlemen," he looked at these people who represented the strongest power on this planet other than the United States, and said in a hoarse voice: "I know, you all want to see us fall."

"But a completely out-of-control United States with thousands of nuclear warheads is not in anyone's interest."

"We... the federal government needs your help, needs the intervention of the international community to end this civil war."

"As for the interests or whatever..."

He took a deep breath, as if he had exhausted all his strength, and said the words that would be enough to nail him to the pillar of shame in history.

"... Everything is negotiable."

"We are willing to give up part of our power in the United Nations Security Council, we are willing to open up part of our domestic market, we are willing to..."

"We are even willing to abandon part of our sovereignty within the framework of the future World Government."

"As long as it allows us to continue to exist."