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Prologue

A well dressed man bursts into the office, sweat trickling down his forehead and a serious look on his face. " President Martinez, we've just received word that the Chinese and Russians have launched the first barrage of missiles with no intention of ceasing, sir."

A tanned man with slicked back hair sits at his desk, head in his hands, surrounded by a group of advisors. He looks up at the well dressed man and his lips let out " It seems like we have no choice, the only course of action is one of retribution" the president's voice trails off and goes low "...and mutual destruction."

The room is quiet and somber, but the people understand and at once they all leave to carry the task that has been given to them. The well dressed man looks at the President and says " Sir, we have to move you to down to the bunkers at once!"

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President Martinez lifts up a hand and waves the words off as if they were a gnat buzzing in front of his face and a smile slowly begins to grow. " If a captain must go down with his ship, so must a president with his country. He spins around looking out the office window taking in the view that won't be there much longer. He chuckles a bit and says " President Martinez, the first and only president to let the country die at the end of his first term...I was supposed to run again in 2060. Guess that option is out the door now."

Hours later and off in the distance mushroom clouds spring up like a fungal forest, the televisions are repeating their emergency broadcasts until the power grids are inevitably wiped out and a massive wave of fire moves towards the President's office window. He has a calm expression of acceptance on his face as he hums "Amazing Grace" to himself.

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