After years of effort, and millions of dollars of research and development, the super weapon was complete and ready to go.
The spy they’d sent had caused no end of trouble, but he hadn’t stopped me, and his corpse now lay in a shallow grave in the garden behind my secret fortress, so riddled with bullets that he was more or less unrecognizable.
And now everything was finally prepared. My team in place, the weapon charged and ready, and finally, it was time. Cameras were trained upon me and my communications officer placed the call. This would be the riskiest part of my diabolical plan.
My video feed was routed to the leaders of the G9 nations, and the collected United Nations, who had been alerted to await my call when I destroyed the city of Paris two weeks earlier.
I suppose they had probably expected me to give them a list of demands, like some sort of badly written film villain.
I did no such thing.
As my scientists tried desperately to figure out how they’d suddenly been locked out of the computer system they‘d helped me to design, and my shock troopers attempted to figure out why they were locked out of the control room, I calmly explained that I had no demands.
The weapon was set.
It would destroy the world, blister the life from it and make it such that nothing could ever grow on it again.
There was no way to stop it. I’d made very sure of that.
The collected world leaders stared at me, a moment, then everyone started shouting at once, as thought that I was mad. Perhaps I was, but there had always been one rule I’d lived by, and I wasn’t going to deviate from it now.
You don’t build a super weapon that can destroy the world if you don’t intend to destroy the world.
I laughed all the way to the end.