Late at night, in the underground military command center of Cuba, the atmosphere in the conference room was as cold as ice. The harsh light shone over the long table, casting shadows over a group of senior officers, their faces filled with exhaustion and anxiety. Scattered documents and maps on the table silently spoke of the brutal war and the collapsing situation.
"The intelligence has been confirmed," an older officer spoke in a low tone, his eyes scanning the reports. "The mysterious girl who appeared on the Russia-Ukraine battlefield is now under protection by the Pentagon. Latest intel shows her abilities have given the NATO alliance overwhelming advantage in Ukraine. Russia's allies are on the brink of collapse and are asking us to send troops…"
"Send troops?" Another officer snarled, slamming his hand on the table, scattering papers. "This is a nightmare! How do we fight against a monster who can resurrect soldiers? Sending more troops is just sending them to die!"
"We must find a solution," the commanding general spoke coldly. His voice was like a blade cutting through the silence. "Otherwise, this war will end, and we will become pawns of the American imperialists."
The room fell into a deadly silence, the quiet hanging like the toll of a bell. Then, suddenly, a faint creak interrupted the stillness.
Everyone looked up toward the door.
A slender figure stood in the doorway. She wore an elegant black lace gown, its hem flowing like the dark night, highlighting her pale skin. She appeared to be no older than twelve, with a stunningly beautiful face, her nose straight and her chin delicate, as if sculpted by a deity. But her deep eyes were chilling—cold and indifferent, as if gazing down at the fate of ants.
She smiled slightly, a smile full of mockery and disdain, as if everything in the room was nothing but her plaything.
"I am a goddess, here to help you win the war," the girl spoke with an elegant yet dismissive tone.
"Who is this little girl?" The general, momentarily stunned, laughed sharply. "Hahaha, this is a military meeting, not a fairy tale! Who left their daughter here? Guards, take her out!"
Two guards advanced, calm and armed, clearly prepared to handle a child. But as they reached her, something unexpected happened.
The girl gently raised her hand, flicking her fingers.
The guards froze, their bodies stiff as if frozen in time, their eyes hollow and lifeless, their arms suspended in midair like puppets without souls.
"What are you doing, guards? Move!" The general's laughter stopped abruptly, his expression turning to anger. He slammed his hand on the table, pointing at the girl. "What trick is this? You brat! Who let you in? Get out of here!"
The girl slowly approached, each step seeming to press on their nerves. Tilting her head slightly, she smiled coldly. "Rude mouths deserve punishment."
She raised her hand and pointed at the general's forehead.
"Bang."
No sound of a weapon, but the general's head jerked back, blood gushing from his forehead, splattering the wall behind him. His body collapsed with a heavy thud, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, as if he never had the chance to utter his last words.
The room plunged into deathly silence. Every officer's pupils contracted, their breaths quickening. They leapt to their feet, but none dared to move, too afraid to become the next target.
"Who are you?" Someone finally stammered, breaking the silence.
"My name is Margoloria," the girl calmly replied, adjusting her gown. She smiled again, her expression regal like a queen, but the coldness in her eyes was like an abyss. "As I said, I am a goddess."
She slowly raised her hand, forming a gun with her fingers, and pointed it at each officer in turn. Her movements were slow yet lethal, and every time she made a "bang" sound with her mouth, the officers felt as if their hearts were being gripped.
"I have the power to kill all of you here, and you have no means to fight back." Her voice was soft but carried an undeniable weight. "But I don't like wasting time. Your lives mean nothing to me. If you listen to me, I can help you win this war. Now, will you be my dogs?"
No one answered. The air was thick with silence and fear.
"This is insane! A bunch of grown men afraid of a little girl? I don't believe your tricks!" Suddenly, a young officer stood up, his face filled with suppressed anger. He lunged at Margoloria, attempting to strangle her.
"Bang."
Margoloria gently raised her finger, mimicking the action of shooting. The officer froze, then collapsed like a broken branch, a hole appearing in his forehead, blood spilling onto the floor.
"Good. Another one dead," Margoloria clapped her hands lightly, her gaze sweeping over the trembling officers. "Anyone else want to try?" Her smile remained elegant and disdainful, as if looking at a group of obedient hounds.
The officers nearly all fell to their knees, trembling and lowering their heads, too afraid to look at her again.
Margoloria smiled graciously, nodding in satisfaction. "Good. Now, let's get to work. Let us open a new chapter in history."