MTLNOVEL Chapter 246: Advisor
9 Days Since First Strike — MOA Complex, Command Level
The war map had changed again.
It no longer pulsed with red. The old infected zones—Manila, Clark, Lucena, Cabanatuan, San Fernando—now glowed pale white. Not from heat, but from silence. A total absence of Bloom activity. Drone after drone confirmed it.
No motion. No bio-signature. No nests. Just ruins.
Dead ruins.
Thomas stood alone in the Strategic Map Room. Behind him, the soft hum of the room's cooling system was the only noise. The others had been dismissed. This was a moment of reckoning.
He had done what no one else dared.
But the cost…?
He closed his eyes briefly, before opening the translucent interface that hovered beside the map's console.
[System Notice: New Role Available – Strategic Advisor (Nuclear)]
[Unlock Cost: 25,000 Blood Coins]
[Accept? Y/N]
He didn't hesitate.
[Confirmed.]
[Summoning Advisor…]
[Designation: Dr. Harold Keplar, Ph.D. Nuclear Engineering.]
[System Override: Digital Reconstruction Successful]
A flicker of blue light swirled in front of him—and then a man appeared. Mid-fifties, balding, with wire-rimmed glasses, a sharp nose, and a worn-out lab coat that looked like it had seen a few too many stress tests.
Dr. Keplar blinked and adjusted his glasses.
"Well. That was a strange nap," he muttered. "Commander Estaris, I presume?"
Thomas nodded. "I assume you're my new advisor."
"Indeed." Keplar looked around. "Let me guess… you've used several tactical thermonuclear warheads in densely populated zones to exterminate large-scale biological infestations?"
"Yes."
Keplar nodded, unfazed. "Good. That means we're past the stupid phase."
Thomas crossed his arms. "People are already questioning me—even within my ranks. They're afraid of radiation. Of fallout. Some think I've just made those cities permanently uninhabitable."
Keplar snorted. "Hollywood rot. Let's fix that."
He stepped forward, projecting a map overlay above the war table. It split into radiation zones, plume projections, and decay timelines.
"Here's the truth," Keplar began, speaking with precision. "The W76-2 is a low-yield thermonuclear warhead designed for minimal collateral damage. Yield: six to eight kilotons. Airburst detonation."
He pointed to the diagram. "Airburst, Commander. That's critical. When a nuclear device detonates in the air, you avoid cratering the earth. No ground debris is pulled into the mushroom cloud. That's what causes the long-term fallout in surface detonations—irradiated particles raining back down. Hiroshima and Nagasaki? They were surface-based with heavier payloads, and still, both cities were rebuilt."
Thomas narrowed his eyes. "So, the white zones…"
Keplar gestured again. "Are safer than people think. Immediate radiation—yes. Lethal within the core radius. But radioactive decay drops rapidly. Within 48 hours, the gamma radiation levels in airburst zones fall to survivable thresholds for brief exposure. Within 7–10 days, most of these zones are safe for extended operations with light shielding."
Thomas turned toward the screen. "And long-term habitation?"
Keplar raised a brow. "You'll want to decontaminate surface layers—ash, soot, some metal fragments. But soil contamination is shallow. You can rebuild within months. Radiation levels will be lower than most hospitals' X-ray wings."
Thomas said nothing at first. Just stared at the now-silent map.
"So the cities aren't lost," he muttered.
"Not if you plan properly. You've done the impossible—cleared biohazards no conventional army could've touched. But now you have to win the peace. Rebuilding, repopulating, reconnecting supply lines. And doing it fast—before nature or Bloom tries again."
Thomas looked up at the advisor. "You're not just a scientist. You're a strategist."
Keplar smiled faintly.
Thomas turned to the comms terminal.
"Marcus. Assemble the Infrastructure Core. We're starting reclamation plans."
10 Days Since First Strike — Overwatch Engineering Bay
Inside the massive reinforced hall, dozens of engineers and logistics planners gathered as Thomas, Marcus, and Phillip stood at the front beside the glowing holographic projector.
A digital layout of Calamba City rotated above them.
"We begin with Calamba," Thomas said. "Population before the outbreak was nearly 600,000. It served as a southern transport hub, water-rich, and had surviving geothermal energy sites. It's also one of the cleanest N-Zones post-detonation."
Phillip zoomed in on the center. "The Bloom infestation was rooted in the commercial zone. Our strike eliminated it completely. Structural damage is extensive but not beyond reclamation."
Marcus chimed in, pointing at projected markers. "We'll need three teams: one for decontamination, one for debris clearing, and one for core infrastructure recovery. Priority is water, roads, and local power."
Keplar stepped forward.
"Don't waste time hunting for old survivors in that zone. You won't find them. Focus instead on preparing it for repopulation. Shelters, clinics, food depots. Treat this like a forward operating base."
Thomas nodded. "Calamba becomes our first Phoenix City. From its ashes, we rebuild."
Someone in the back raised a hand. "But who'll live there?"
Thomas turned.
"Families we've rescued. Volunteers. Survivors who want to start again. We are getting cramped here inside Overwatch. I figure we should expand now."
"But will it be safe?"
Keplar raised his voice.
"Safer than walking into a hospital without gloves. These sites are cleaner now than they've been in months. The Bloom is gone. It can't regrow in sterilized ground."
Thomas added, "And every inch we rebuild is one less for the enemy to retake."
The room quieted.
There was resolve now. Uncertainty remained, but it no longer ruled them.
That afternoon, construction crews were mobilized. Heavy-lift drones dropped prefabricated modules. Bulldozers rumbled to life. Solar arrays were planted in rows. Roads were re-cleared. Rail lines from the south were examined for repair.
Each day that followed, a new city was added to the list.
Clark. San Fernando. Lucena.
One by one, the ashes became foundations.
11 Days Since First Strike — MOA Complex Rooftop
The sun set slowly over Manila Bay. From the top of the MOA tower, Thomas stood with a pair of binoculars, scanning the horizon.
A faint column of smoke rose far in the distance—part of the debris-clearing effort in San Fernando. It was a hopeful kind of smoke. Controlled. Intentional. Human.
Keplar walked up behind him.
"Once, during the Cold War, we thought nuclear fire would be the end of the world."
Thomas didn't respond.
"But in the right hands," Keplar continued, "fire is rebirth."
Thomas lowered the binoculars. "That's the second time I've heard that."
"Then maybe it's worth believing."
Below them, the lights flickered on in the MOA Complex—solar-powered, grid-stable, self-sufficient.
The last capital of mankind still stood.
And Thomas was ready to build again.