Later at an underground bunker,

O'Donovan and his men from the JFK Airport escape enter where the American Ultranationalists is headquartered. Milena Roman walks down the stairs to greet an overjoyed O'Donovan with arms wide open. "Milena."

Milena and O'Donovan shake hands, "Welcome back, sir." She said.

O'Donovan looks around the gather men and women, "You built us an army for the states."

Milena smiled, "Money well spent. And for the right cause."

O'Donovan hums in agreement before turning to his soldiers gathered around. "My comrades... We stand reunited!"

The soldiers raise their fists. "Fight! Fight!!"

"For your efforts in my absence, and our success today, I offer you praise." O'Donovan's face turns sour as he turns to man who was with him. "And punishment... Edward... my best friend..." he place his hand on Edward's shoulder. "You wasted precious time. And timing is everything..."

Edward blinked and checks to see the attacks stopped quickly with a small amount of deaths, "Kane, respectfully, I-"

"Shhhhh, Shhh...." O'Donovan shushes Edward, "Everyone should own their mistakes." He rips off the team leader patch from Edward's shoulder on his uniform. A gunshot rings out, killing Edward in the head. O'Donovan turns to another man named Nolan, who held the gun at Edward. "Nolan... You've proven yourself. From here on, you're team leader." O'Donovan plants the team leader patch on a Nolan's shoulder.

Nolan looks gratefully at O'Donovan. "Thank you, commander."

O'Donovan turned from Nolan to face the entire assembly of soldiers, his expression fierce, radiating authority and conviction. The room was filled with hardened men and women, their faces showing a mix of devotion, excitement, and anticipation. This was no ordinary group—they were the elite, the ones who had sworn to stand by O'Donovan's side no matter the cost. The very core of the American Ultranationalists.

With the echo of Edward's execution still lingering in the air, O'Donovan's voice thundered through the underground bunker.

"My comrades! The world is burning, and it is our fire that fuels the flames! Today was only the beginning. Air Dawnfire was a warning—a taste of what we are capable of. The governments of this world think they can control us, manipulate us, make us submit to their globalist order. They think they can crush us with their armies, their alliances, their lies. But they are wrong!"

He paced in front of them, his presence commanding the room as his eyes locked onto each and every one of them.

"We are not pawns in their game. We are the wolves at their gates, ready to tear down their fortresses! From Washington to Moscow, from Beijing to Berlin, we are the future! And they fear that future, my brothers and sisters. They fear us because they know that we will not bend, we will not break, and we will not stop until we have taken what is rightfully ours!"

The crowd roared in approval, fists pumping into the air, the room pulsing with the energy of their fervor. O'Donovan's words lit a fire in their hearts, a fire that would consume everything in its path.

"Today was just a taste, a strike to remind them we are here. But soon—very soon—we will unleash the full fury of our power. Their cities will fall. Their leaders will tremble. Their people will rise, our people will rise, and together we will reshape this broken world!"

He raised his arms, like a prophet addressing his followers, his voice rising with intensity.

"They call us terrorists. They call us murderers. But we are freedom fighters! We are the ones who will free this world from its chains! They will never understand the strength of our resolve, but they will feel it. And when they do, they will know there is no escape from the justice we bring."

O'Donovan paused, letting the gravity of his words settle in.

"Prepare yourselves, my comrades. We are about to begin Phase Two. The capitals of the world are vulnerable. Their people are unprepared. Their leaders are complacent. And now, the time has come for us to strike at the heart of their power, to bring down their corrupt systems once and for all!"

The crowd erupted again, louder this time, their enthusiasm palpable. O'Donovan's smile returned, cold and predatory, as he surveyed the men and women who would follow him into the fire.

"We will not stop. We will not falter. And when the dust settles, we will be the ones standing victorious over the ashes of the old world! Prepare yourselves, for the true war is about to begin!"

"Fight! Fight!" the soldiers chanted, fists raised, their loyalty and determination unshakable. O'Donovan had them right where he wanted them—united in purpose, driven by ideology, and ready to tear the world apart at his command.

Milena stepped up beside him, a sly smile on her lips as she whispered, "The world will soon learn what it means to fear us."

O'Donovan nodded, his gaze fixed on the future that awaited them.

"The dawn of a new era," he said, "is upon us."

Meanwhile on the USS Barack Obama (CVN-81).

The USS Barack Obama (CVN-08), frequently referred to simply as "The Obama", is an US Navy Gerald R. Ford-class supercarrier that was laid down on February 26th, 2046, launched on June 25th, 2049, christened on July 22nd, 2049 and commissioned on July 4th, 2051. She has 2 decks and a flight deck, is 302.8 m long, 102.4 m wide and 28.8 m high, has a standard displacement of 100,000 tons, an operating complement of 6,000 and an absolute complement of 6,500. Her aircraft complement includes 100-130 F/A-20E Super Wasps and/or F/A-20F Super Wasps, 32 MH-60R/S Seahawks and/or MV-22s, 26 E-2D Advanced Hawks, and 32 SH-3F Super Seabatts. The carrier can support other aircraft and helicopters, including 6 AV-10S Harriers, 18 AH-1Z Vipers, and 12 CH-46G Sea Knights, and she has a capacity of 22 F-24E Shadow Fighters. The ship's two elite nuclear powered engines are capable of driving the carrier at a top speed of 50+ knots. The ship has an armament of 80+ vertical launch system (VLS) cells for a mix of AGM-84 Harpoon anti-ship missiles and RGM-105E Thermal Attack Cruise Missiles, 68 CIWS, 4 Phalanx CIWS, and 12 Mk 41 VLS missile launchers with the capability to carry a mix of RIM-162 Evolved Sea Sparrow Missiles, RIM-166 Standard Missile 6s, and RGM-84C Harpoon Block II Standoff Land Attack Missiles, 12 torpedo tubes, 12 5"/62 (127mm/L62) guns, 4 Mk 15 Phalanx CIWS, and the ability to deploy 30 UAVs, most commonly the MQ-55 Coyote. She also has 2 Mk 15 Phalanx CIWS, and has 620 crew members and 2,000 aircrew. 4,000 men and 2,000 aircraft.

Captain: ADM James E. B. Jones

XO: CDR Michael S. Keller

Flight Deck: LCDR. Matthew S. Givens

The crew and pilots on the ship was getting a lot of messages and news alerts of what's going on. A few minutes later, the Captain's voice came in.

As the news of the chemical attack in Russia spread across the world, tension aboard the USS Barack Obama (CVN-81) was palpable. Crew members were glued to their screens, receiving continuous updates and alerts. The attack on Arklov Military Base had set the global military on high alert, and the ramifications were far-reaching, especially for those stationed in volatile regions.

The buzzing of incoming messages and the quiet, urgent exchanges between officers filled the air on the bridge. Admiral James E. B. Jones, the commanding officer of the ship, was a seasoned leader who had seen his share of global crises. Still, this felt different. The enemy they were facing was unpredictable, and now with the confirmed presence of O'Donovan and his Ultranationalists pulling the strings, the stakes were higher than ever.

Admiral Jones stood on the bridge, hands clasped behind his back, looking out over the vast expanse of the ocean through the large windows. His gaze was fixed, his mind racing with strategies and possible scenarios. At the same time, his executive officer, Commander Michael S. Keller, approached with a tablet in hand.

"Admiral," Keller said in a steady tone, "the latest intelligence from CENTCOM. The chemical attack at Arklov is confirmed. Preliminary reports indicate over 250 dead, with hundreds more injured. Russian and UNE forces are scrambling to assess the full extent of the damage."

Admiral Jones turned to face him, his expression grim. "Any word on O'Donovan's location?"

Keller shook his head. "Negative, sir. The intel we've got suggests he's in hiding, but where exactly—nobody knows. His movements are unpredictable, and after this attack, he's likely gone further underground."

Jones sighed, rubbing his temples as the weight of the situation pressed down on him. "He's a ghost. And the more we hunt him, the more we expose our weaknesses." He paused for a moment, then added, "What about our allies? How are they responding?"

"UNE forces are mobilizing," Keller replied. "There's been an increase in air patrols in Europe and Asia. The Russians have ramped up their own military presence along key strategic points, especially near their borders. And as for the Remnant Kingdoms—they're still working on integrating their defenses with ours. It's a slow process, but we're making progress."

At that moment, the voice of Lieutenant Commander Matthew S. Givens, the officer in charge of the flight deck, crackled through the intercom. "Admiral Jones, we've got a full squadron ready to launch on your orders. F/A-20E Super Wasps are prepped for air patrols over the Mediterranean, and our UAVs are standing by for recon missions."

Admiral Jones nodded, his decision made. "Deploy the Super Wasps. I want a full aerial sweep over our designated sector. And get those Coyotes in the air. We need eyes on any suspicious activity—ships, planes, you name it. We're not taking any chances."

"Aye, sir," Givens replied, and the comms went silent.

Admiral Jones turned back to Keller, his voice low but firm. "We're sitting on a powder keg, Mike. O'Donovan just lit the fuse, and it's only a matter of time before the whole thing blows."

Keller nodded, his face set in determination. "Then we'll be ready, sir. Whatever he throws at us, we'll be ready."

Jones stared out at the horizon, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. The world was on the brink, and the USS Barack Obama—along with its crew—would be at the forefront of whatever was to come.

Moments later, the intercom buzzed, and the Admiral's voice came through the speakers across the ship.

"Attention, all hands. This is Admiral Jones. You've all seen the news, and you know what's at stake. We are now at DEFCON 2. We are in a state of high readiness. All personnel are to report to their stations and await further orders. Our enemies believe they can strike without consequence. They believe they can spread fear and chaos across the globe. But let me remind you of one thing: we are the United States Navy. And when we are called upon, we deliver. Stay focused, stay sharp, and be ready. Jones out."

As the announcement echoed through the corridors of the massive carrier, the crew sprang into action. Pilots hurried to their aircraft, engineers double-checked systems, and sailors prepared for whatever lay ahead. The Obama was not just a ship—it was a fortress, a symbol of power, and a key player in the battles to come.

Up on the flight deck, the F/A-20E Super Wasps roared to life, their engines screaming as they were prepped for launch. The massive carrier had transformed into a hub of controlled chaos, with every person knowing their role in the coming storm. And somewhere out there, O'Donovan was watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike again.

But Admiral Jones and his crew would be ready. Whatever it took, they would be ready.

Back at the Joint UNE Marine Corps/Atlas Military/White Fang Base. Now commonly called the "MAC-SOG Base". Was watching the news of the chem attack Arklov Military Base and the terror attacks at the international airports across the world.

UNE Marines and Soldiers were pissed seeing the airports attacked but glad they were quickly dealt with and with minor casualties. Both law enforcement and civilian.

Ryan, Albert, Franklin, Dmitry, Kenji, Jonas, Rigel, Anthony, David, Mari, Igor, Shino, Jie, Kang, Felix, Dae, and Michael were sitting in the briefing room. Along with, Ironwood, Sienna, Winter, Miho, Raven, Glynda, Qrow, Clover, Elm, Vine, Marrow, and Harriet.

Lt. Generals Reeves and Walker Briefed them along with a message from Admiral Jones who is their close Navel assist in the Pacific.

The briefing room at the MAC-SOG Base was charged with a mix of tension, determination, and the simmering anger shared by the UNE troops, Atlas Military, and White Fang operatives after watching the footage of the coordinated chemical attack on Arklov Military Base and the global terror strikes at various international airports. The attacks had been swiftly dealt with, and though civilian casualties were minimal, the audacity and scope of the strikes had left everyone on edge.

As Lt. Generals Reeves and Walker stood at the front of the room, preparing to deliver their briefing, the soldiers, Huntsmen, and leaders of the assembled forces sat quietly, their expressions reflecting a shared resolve. Among them, the UNE—Ryan, Albert, Franklin, Dmitry, Kenji, Jonas, Rigel, Anthony, David, Mari, Igor, Shino, Jie, Kang, Felix, Dae, and Michael—stood out, their posture showing the grit of troops who had seen too much of war.

Ironwood, Winter, Miho, Sienna, Raven, Glynda, Qrow, Clover, Elm, Vine, Marrow, and Harriet filled the seats in the briefing room as well, representing the diverse factions now working together under the MAC-SOG banner.

The room fell silent as Lt. General Reeves cleared his throat and opened the briefing.

"Alright, everyone, listen up. By now, you've all seen the news of the chemical attacks at Arklov Military Base in Russia and the coordinated terrorist attacks at airports across the globe. We've confirmed that Kane 'The Patriot' O'Donovan is behind these attacks. His Ultranationalist forces are mobilizing across multiple fronts, and this is only the beginning."

Reeves paused for a moment, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in. The tension in the room was palpable, with soldiers and officers sitting up straighter in their seats, some exchanging grim looks.

Lt. General Walker took over, his voice steady but hard. "We've received intelligence from Admiral Jones, currently commanding the USS Barack Obama in the Pacific. His recon flights and UAVs are actively tracking O'Donovan's movements in the region. As of now, O'Donovan's forces are confirmed to be making significant moves in Afghanistan, where they've consolidated power. The situation is escalating, and we expect further strikes soon—possibly within the next 72 hours."

Walker pressed a button, bringing up a series of maps and images on the screen, detailing known Ultranationalist locations and suspected bases. One of the images showed the aftermath of the gas attack at Arklov, a sobering reminder of the threat they now faced.

Admiral James E. B. Jones' voice suddenly crackled through the speakers, his tone as direct and firm as the soldiers had come to expect. "This is Admiral Jones, speaking to you from the USS Barack Obama. We're coordinating a full-scale response in the Pacific and beyond. Our forces will be moving into position to cut off O'Donovan's escape routes and strike his key installations. But I need boots on the ground in the Middle East, specifically in Afghanistan, to hit his forward operating bases before they can launch another attack."

Ryan and the other Marines exchanged glances. They were ready for this.

"We're counting on you, MAC-SOG," Admiral Jones continued. "This operation is going to require absolute precision. Your objectives will be to infiltrate the Afghan bases, neutralize O'Donovan's leadership, and gather any intelligence on the new chemical weapons he's using. The world is counting on us to put an end to this."

The room remained silent for a beat before Lt. General Reeves spoke again, his voice cold and resolute. "We're calling this Operation Phoenix Strike. Our task force will work in tandem with Admiral Jones' naval airstrikes and ground support. Special units from the Atlas Military, White Fang, and UNE will be deployed. This will be a multi-front operation, with simultaneous strikes in Afghanistan, Russia, and key Ultranationalist strongholds worldwide."

Sienna leaned forward, her voice soft but filled with deadly intent. "And what about O'Donovan himself?"

Miho added, "If we cut off the head of the snake, we can disrupt their plans before they go any further."

Reeves nodded. "O'Donovan is our primary target. We've pinpointed several locations where he might be hiding, but he's slippery. That's why we're sending in the best to track him down. Teams from this base will be inserted directly into the field to find and eliminate O'Donovan. He won't get away this time."

Anthony, his arms crossed, spoke up, his voice steady but filled with determination. "Then we'll take the fight to him. We'll hit him before he can cause more damage."

Ryan, Dmitry, and Kenji nodded in agreement. The rest of the room followed suit, the atmosphere thick with resolve.

Winter stood up, her posture commanding. "The Atlas forces are ready to mobilize. We'll provide air and ground support where needed, and I'll ensure our troops are at full readiness."

Ironwood, silent until now, added, "We've been preparing for this. O'Donovan won't escape justice."

Lt. General Walker concluded the briefing. "You all have your orders. Prepare your gear. We're launching within the next 48 hours. O'Donovan made a mistake attacking our bases. Now it's our turn."

As the troops and operatives stood up to leave, there was no need for further words. They knew what was at stake. Operation Phoenix Strike was about to begin, and they were ready to end O'Donovan's reign of terror once and for all.

It was then a voice of an Atlas soldier spoke in the speakers, "All callsigns! This is Vacuo HQ, we're about to be overrun!"

Ironwood calmly answers the scared soldier, "Understood. We'll deal with Ultranationalist that located there."

"Not mostly the Ultras(nickname for Ultranationalist)! We're about to be overran by Grimm!!" The Atlas soldier clarified shocking almost everyone.

To the UNE troops, it wasn't big.

Ozpin was a bit puzzled and asked, "This is Ozpin. How big is the Grimm threat?"

"An entire fucking army!! Oh no... THEY BREACHED!! WE'VE BEEN BREACHED!! OH GO-" Static followed as a satellite image shows how massive the force was.

Everyone...

...was...

...shocked.

Even the ever stoic Dustin Walker raised his brows in shock.

"Sweet..." Miho and Ironwood said.

"...mother of..." Sienna and Winter said.

"...crap..." Raven, Qrow and the rest said.

The amount of Grimm heading for both at the city of Vacuo and the country of Iran, Oman, Pakistan, and India... is 2.7 million.

A message from the UNE is sent ordering 750,000 troops(Army, Marines, Air Force, & Navy), Atlas soldiers, Huntsmen, Huntresses, PMCs, White Fang, and Nomadic(bandit) Tribes to hold any military Operations as this is a Critical Threat against all living.

The shockwave of the Atlas soldier's transmission rippled through the briefing room. The sheer magnitude of the Grimm threat — 2.7 million strong — advancing on Vacuo and surrounding nations sent a collective shiver down the spines of even the most battle-hardened veterans. UNE troops had faced monstrous threats before, but this was something beyond their normal operational scope.

Dustin's sharp command snapped everyone out of their momentary paralysis. His voice cut through the tension like a whip, grounding the troops back into their purpose. "Less jaw open, more fucking moving. We got a Critical Threat that's as big as O'Donovan taking nukes!" he barked, his eyes flashing with the urgency of the moment.

Miho followed suit, her face determined and resolute. "You heard the USMC Lieutenant General! Less standing, more taking Grimm names and kicking Grimm ass!" she shouted, her tone electrifying the room.

The troops, Huntsmen, and operatives snapped into action. The murmurs of disbelief quickly dissipated, replaced by the sound of chairs scraping against the floor and boots stomping with purpose. Everyone knew what needed to be done.

Ironwood was already on his Scroll, coordinating with Atlas Command. "We need our forces mobilized now! Get the transports and air support prepped for deployment to Vacuo and reinforce the surrounding areas. Every Huntsman and Huntress available is to be sent in!"

Winter was beside him, issuing orders of her own. "I want every available Manta and Bullhead airborne in the next fifteen minutes! The Grimm are coming, and we will be ready."

Sienna stepped forward, rallying the White Fang troops present. "We're going to Vacuo. The Grimm have never faced the might of the Fang and the allies at our side. Prepare for immediate deployment." Her fierce words were met with a resounding roar of approval from her followers.

Anthony, standing beside Ryan and Dmitry, exchanged grim looks. "Looks like we're about to be neck-deep in Grimm," Anthony muttered.

Ryan, always the pragmatic, nodded. "No rest for the wicked. Time to earn our pay."

Felix and Michael were already moving toward their gear. Felix, adjusting his tactical vest, grinned tightly. "I knew something was coming, but this? We're going to be fighting a damn army."

Mari, Jie, and Dae were all locked into their training routines, shifting into combat mode as they prepared for a battle unlike any they'd ever seen. The combination of Grimm and Ultranationalists posed an apocalyptic challenge, and they knew they had no choice but to stand their ground.

Meanwhile, Miho moved toward Raven Branwen, who was still processing the scale of the Grimm horde. Raven's crimson eyes met Miho's as the commander spoke. "You've faced down plenty of monsters before, Branwen. It's time to show the world why the Branwen tribe is feared."

Raven nodded slowly. "We'll be ready." Her voice was cold, but there was a flicker of something deeper, something primal — a readiness to fight and survive.

Ozpin, ever the strategist, began connecting the dots, speaking aloud to those still within earshot. "The Grimm are always drawn to negative emotion and chaos... it's no coincidence they're converging on the same fronts where the Ultranationalists have been causing upheaval. O'Donovan knows exactly what he's doing."

Clover, Elm, Marrow, and Harriet of the Ace-Ops were already gearing up, adrenaline pumping. Clover raised an eyebrow at the scale of the fight ahead but maintained his composure. "We've got this. We always do."

In the background, the satellite images of the Grimm horde swarmed across the screen, their numbers multiplying as they advanced through Vacuo, Iran, Oman, Pakistan, and India.

Dustin stood at the head of the room, glaring at the carnage on the screen, his resolve hardening. "This isn't just about survival anymore. We stop these bastards here, or we lose it all."

Within moments, the MAC-SOG base buzzed with frantic activity. Troops strapped into their exosuits, pilots raced to their aircraft, and Huntsmen and Huntresses prepped their weapons. The White Fang, Atlas soldiers, UNE troops, and Nomadic tribesmen alike prepared for the ultimate battle, united against a threat so massive that failure wasn't an option.

In the air, the roar of jets and Bullheads filled the skies as forces were deployed rapidly to the critical zones.

Back in the briefing room, Anthony cracked his knuckles, looking at the incoming waves of data. 'Let's show these Grimm and Ultras why we're the best damn force on the planet.' He looked at the faces around him and smirked. "I'm ready if you are."

Ryan adjusted his rifle, grinning. "Born ready."

With Operation Phoenix Strike now rapidly transforming into a dual-front war against both the Ultranationalists and the Grimm, everyone in the room knew what was at stake: the world.

And there was no room for hesitation. It was time to fight.

The mission was clear. The stakes were high. The world was on the edge of an abyss.

And they were the ones standing in the way.