Mark "Russian Slayer" stood at the podium, papers trembling in his hand from sheer excitement. His laugh was intense, almost demonic, as he revealed the final stage of his master plan. Behind him, the world lay in ruins—literally. The cities of Russia, Serbia, and every ally that had ever supported them were reduced to ash. This wasn’t just victory; this was total annihilation. And he reveled in it.

"Do you see this?" Mark laughed, holding the document high, a plan so terrifying it would make even the most hardened generals flinch. "This is the future. And guess what? There’s no place for you in it!" His words echoed through the hall, filled with the terrified stares of those still clinging to some desperate hope.

Mark’s eyes gleamed with pure joy. "We have crushed them all. The last remnants of resistance are being wiped out as we speak. And now," he looked at the paper in his hand, "we move to phase two."

The audience held their breath. "You thought the bombs were bad?" Mark burst into laughter. "We haven’t even begun to unleash our real power. Starting tomorrow, every city that dared defy us will be erased. Not just from the map—but from memory. We’ll make sure they never existed."

Mark slammed the paper onto the podium and grinned widely. "And your children?" He chuckled darkly. "They’ll grow up in a world where the very air they breathe will remind them of what happens when you stand against me."

His laughter filled the room, echoing like a harbinger of the hell he was about to unleash. "You wanted a future without me? Too bad. I am the future."

As he left the stage, Mark cast one final glance over his shoulder. "Let the cleansing begin."