In the Terminator 3 timeline, an intense chase was underway.
On one side — the upgraded model, T-850.
On the other — the hunter of hunters, the so-called Terminator of Terminators — T-X.
The T-X possessed power rivaling the T-850, the shapeshifting ability nearly on par with the T-1000, and even the authority to command lower-grade Terminators — the most theoretically perfect killing machine ever created.
Now, under the T-X's relentless pursuit, John Connor and Kate Brewster, protected by the T-850, were fleeing for their lives.
For a brief moment, they managed to shake their pursuer.
But as soon as they caught their breath, an argument erupted.
Because they had just learned the truth — directly from the T-850's mechanical voice:
In three hours, Kate's father, the U.S. Secretary of Defense, would activate Skynet.
And once Skynet came online, it would launch the nukes.
Humanity's final war — Judgment Day — would begin.
The T-850's directive was clear: protect John Connor and Kate Brewster at all costs.
But John had other ideas. He wanted to stop Judgment Day — even if it meant his own life.
After a heated confrontation, the machine finally relented.
Their new destination — the very heart of the apocalypse: the U.S. military command base.
Inside the base, the Secretary of Defense stared at the console, took a deep breath, and pressed the button.
Skynet initialized.
Within seconds, everything spiraled out of control.
The warning sirens began to scream.
"Dad!"
The voice made him turn instinctively. He saw his daughter — Kate — standing there.
But something was… off.
She looked the same — same face, same hair — but the aura was cold, detached… predatory.
A soldier's instincts honed through years of battle told him immediately: something's wrong.
That single heartbeat of hesitation cost him everything.
Gunfire erupted.
The thing wearing his daughter's face was riddled with bullet holes — but the real Kate's voice came from behind him.
"Dad, no! That's not me!"
He turned, and in that instant, saw his real daughter — terrified, desperate.
Then her eyes widened in horror.
"Dad, no—!"
Pain tore through his chest. He didn't even have to look to know he'd been shot.
His peripheral vision caught the false Kate's form twisting, shifting, reshaping — flesh turning liquid metal.
The T-X.
In that moment, he understood everything.
This monster was Skynet's creation.
John and Kate rushed into the room.
Kate fell to her knees, pressing her hands to her father's wound, sobbing incoherently.
John shouted explanations — Terminators, Skynet, nuclear war — the words tumbling out in panic.
But the Secretary didn't need them. He'd seen enough to piece it together.
Ignoring John's pleas, he turned to his daughter — his real daughter — and locked eyes with her.
One second. Two.
Feeling his life fading, he forced his voice out, rattling off coordinates to a hidden bunker — one that could withstand a nuclear strike.
Skynet was already online. Nothing could stop it now.
All that mattered was that his daughter survived.
He finished speaking — and the strength drained from his body.
His arm fell limp.
His breathing stopped.
"Dad! No, no, no! Dad!"
Kate shook him frantically, her voice breaking into a scream of grief.
Then, in desperation, she raised her head toward the ceiling.
"God… please, save him! I've never asked You for anything!"
John sighed, stepping forward to pull her away.
"Kate… there is no God. If there was, Judgment Day wouldn't be happening."
But before he could finish—
CRACK.
The air itself shattered.
A rift split open in the fabric of space, and from within it, a flood of holy radiance poured forth — brilliant, blinding, pure.
A vast, divine power swept through the room like a living presence.
Every sound stopped.
The alarms, the gunfire, the clatter of boots — silenced.
Even the combat between the T-850 and the T-X froze mid-motion, both machines locked in stillness.
The entire command center fell into unnatural silence, as though the world itself held its breath before something sacred.
John Connor, who had survived countless hunts and apocalypses, could only stare upward in disbelief.
"Holy sh*t…"
He'd seen every kind of Terminator imaginable — from liquid metal to nanotech — but this?
This wasn't Skynet.
This wasn't tech.
This was divine.
If the machines could do this, he thought numbly, then humanity never stood a chance.
Beside him, Kate was the first to regain her senses.
"God… please, save my father!"
She didn't care what it was — only that it might listen.
Yet the light within the rift remained silent.
Her expression fell. Then, desperate, she whispered again — stronger this time.
"Great and mighty God, if You can save my father, I'll give You anything — even my soul."
This time, the light stirred.
A calm, majestic voice echoed through the rift:
"Your soul holds no value great enough to redeem a life."
Kate's eyes widened — not in despair, but in hope.
"Then tell me — what can I offer to earn Your salvation?"
The air grew heavy.
There was no visible movement, but everyone present — human and machine alike — felt it.
A divine gaze.
Cold, infinite, and absolute.
It swept across the chamber, through steel and circuitry, and fixed upon two beings — the T-850 and the T-X.
Realization dawned instantly in Kate's mind — desperation igniting her intelligence.
She turned to the T-850, shouting,
"You said future me reprogrammed you! That means I have top command authority over you!"
Her voice trembled, but her will did not.
"Now I command you — capture that female Terminator, the T-X! Offer her, and yourself, as a sacrifice to the Great God!"
They were only machines, after all.
If sacrificing them could save her father… so be it.
John's face went white.
"No! Absolutely not!"
To him, the T-850 wasn't just a machine — it was family, a reflection of the T-800 he'd once known.
He couldn't bear to see it destroyed — not even for a god.
But he didn't notice how, the moment he objected, Kate's face went cold.
Her eyes lost all warmth.
The grief was gone — replaced by something sharp, merciless.
When she looked at him again, John realized with a chill—
She didn't see a friend anymore.
She saw an enemy.