The headquarters base cluster resembled a silent, black mountain range, shrouded in deathly stillness. The open areas were littered with abandoned, unmanned vehicles, the acrid smell of fuel and gunpowder mixing in the air. From the window slits of the buildings, countless pairs of wooden, bewildered eyes stared out. All the remaining warriors were holed up inside, the atmosphere heavy with despair.

Although the encircling forces of the Six Nations were not visible on the horizon, everyone knew that countless missiles had already locked onto the headquarters base cluster, ready to rain down at any moment, transforming everything into towering flames, burning and purifying everything.

No one knew what the future held.

Everything depended on Sprout's final decision. Surrender – perhaps there was still a glimmer of hope.

In the end, not everyone was willing to die for the cause.

In the underground headquarters control room, the screen displayed the current situation. The blue, representing Sprout, was reduced to the isolated headquarters, while the red of the Six Nations covered the rest of the continent – a dead end.

The masked leader stood at the forefront, hands clasped behind his back, silently watching the screen. Behind him, the senior officials exchanged glances, no one speaking, the silence eerie.

"What are your plans?" one of the officials asked hesitantly.

The leader closed his eyes, and after a moment of agonizing waiting, rasped, "Launch all nuclear missiles."

The senior officials were shaken. A bald official, high in the ranks, couldn't help but say, "The Six Nations have already locked onto us. Mutual destruction is impossible. This is suicide!"

"What, you want to grovel before the Six Nations?" the leader asked, his voice devoid of emotion. "Don't forget what Sprout was created for. There is no defeat, only death."

The senior officials were all remnants of nations destroyed by the Six Nations and deeply loathed them, but not everyone could remain steadfast in the face of death. Moreover, in their view, sacrificing themselves was completely futile. Even if the Six Nations' promise not to kill those who surrendered was untrustworthy, having a sliver of opportunity was better than no hope at all.

"I disagree," the bald official stepped forward and shouted.

The leader turned around, his sinister gaze sweeping across each face, and said softly, "You, or all of you?"

Some of the senior officials met his gaze without yielding, while others lowered their heads, but without exception, they all used silence as their answer.

Faced with life and death, the leader and the senior officials were divided, a chasm opening up between them.

"What if I insist?" the leader asked calmly.

The bald official said in a low voice, "Launching the nuclear missiles requires two special keys, system authority, your fingerprint, and your iris scan. You have the authority, but you only have one key. The other is with the vice commander, and he is on our side."

The leader scanned the room. "Where is he?"

"Naturally, he is not here. We won't give you any chance."

The leader shook his head. "It seems you made your decision long ago in private."

"Don't be impulsive. We still have a chance to rise again. Don't throw your lives away..." The bald official tried to persuade him, but he suddenly stopped, his eyes widening in disbelief. As he was speaking, the leader slowly pulled out two command keys for launching the nuclear missiles from his pocket, including the key that should have belonged to the vice commander.

"You... how could you..."

"Heavens, put them down!"

"How are the keys with you?!"

"Where is the vice commander?"

The expressions of the senior officials changed drastically, and they became agitated, their words tumbling over each other.

The leader gripped the keys, silent.

"Hand over the keys. We can't let you do as you please." The bald official tried his best to control the muscles in his face to avoid showing his shock, anger, and panic. His voice trembled, and he secretly gestured with his other hand behind his back.

The leader shook his head, looking at everyone indifferently, and said softly, "Melga, five days ago you contacted Red Maple in private. Doromende, you and Odivina reached some small agreements. Linu, Ruilan promised to provide you with protection..."

He named most of the people present in one breath, and facing their astonished faces, he slowly said, "The fate that awaits you after surrendering will naturally be different from that of the other Sprout warriors, so don't act righteously. Do whatever you want."

The expressions of the senior officials were uncertain, and a fear of being seen through rose from their bones.

Although the former leader was intimidating, they could still roughly guess what he was thinking. But since the tide of the war turned, the leader had become increasingly unfathomable, and no one knew what he was thinking... or rather, since Zero escaped the encirclement, the leader had changed.

He seemed to have become a bottomless abyss. As the war situation deteriorated, he remained calm as water, as if even the dire situation could not arouse his slightest anger.

The door opened, and dozens of Executors walked in, silently surrounding the leader, and the senior officials stepped back.

These Executors were all their people. Since the start of the war, Sprout's Executors had suffered heavy casualties, and the senior officials had consciously protected their direct forces. In a large organization, everyone had their own secret plans and private forces. Sprout's cohesion came from hatred, not loyalty to a specific person.

No one spoke again. The bald official gave a look, and the Executors became restless, various abilities and flames lighting up.

In the colorful light, the leader sighed.

"I'll send you to see the vice commander."

...

Far away from the headquarters was the joint position of the Six Nations, where countless armed forces were on standby. Squadrons of fighter jets carrying missiles circled in the air, the roar of their engines cutting through the sky, the sound waves and vibrations sweeping across the ground, causing the tents and vehicle armor plates to tremble slightly.

Ground missile vehicles were in a state of readiness to launch at any moment. Various satellites and detection devices were constantly monitoring the headquarters' missile silos and the situation in the air. As soon as something dark rose into the sky, they could intercept it immediately, detonating it in mid-air, and using the final resort of unleashing all the missiles to turn Sprout's headquarters into scorched earth.

In the war room, representatives of the Six Nations gathered, waiting anxiously.

"There are seven hours, thirty-two minutes, fifty-two, and one seconds left until the final ultimatum, and Sprout has not responded," a Red Maple officer said, constantly checking the clock.

"I think we should extend the ultimatum and let Sprout reconsider, and not make a hasty and reckless action," said the representative of Odivina.

No one paid attention to him.

A Ruilan officer said with a cold face, "We have contacted four Sprout senior officials in private. The last message they sent back said they were trying to persuade the Sprout leader."

The other countries nodded secretly. They had all taken the same action. Faced with this desperate situation, many Sprout senior officials were pragmatic and willing to make deals to ensure their safety.

The condition of the Six Nations was naturally to demand that Sprout surrender. Saving the hostages was naturally the best outcome.

"An hour and twenty minutes have passed since the last call, and no new news has been received."

"Keep waiting. We have time."

The officers of various countries discussed casually. This was the current situation. They were in an invincible position and had given Sprout a choice. All they could do was wait.

A Haixia officer pondered, "What kind of person is the Sprout leader? According to information from the dark web, the Sprout leader comes from the destroyed Golan. The predecessor of the Sprout organization was Mingmok. We have reviewed all the files, but we still cannot find the exact identity of the Sprout leader..."

Bennet handed over the information that Hannes had found to the Six Nations, believing that with the power of the Six Nations, they should be able to find more details. However, the Six Nations were also at a loss. The Sprout leader was like a ghost without a past. The mountain of files and documents contained no record of him. The information that Hannes found was all there was.

"Wasn't Golan destroyed by your Ruilan? Do you have any information?" asked a Xinglong officer.

The Ruilan officer shook his head. "We even checked the list of civilians who received and executed the people of Golan that year, and none of them matched. We sent people to visit the original Golan area, but we still found nothing... I suspect whether the information on the dark web is accurate."

ps: (The next chapter should be finished before 12 o'clock...)