Putin Threatens the World with Poseidon: Russia’s Nuclear Tsunami Drone That Could Wipe Out the US

The Week That Shaped the World — 24–31 October 2025

Putin Answers Trump’s Tomahawks with Poseidon — and Other Stories That Shaped the Week

Two men, two tempers, and one very old game.
As Donald Trump spoke of “peace through strength” and reminded Putin that American submarines “are always nearby,” Moscow replied from under the sea — literally. The unveiling of Poseidon, a nuclear drone said to summon radioactive tsunamis, felt less like deterrence and more like theatre. The kind with very real consequences.

Meanwhile, the world’s economy performed its own version of brinkmanship. Nvidia became the first $5 trillion company in history, China promised total technological independence, and global markets rallied on faith that interest rates would finally begin to fall. Fear, as usual, proved excellent for business.

In Europe, France flirts with a direct intervention in Ukraine, Israel’s Gaza strikes remind us how fragile peace still sounds, and Russia’s nuclear bravado turned the headlines into a doomsday script.

But here’s the paradox of our age: as leaders rehearse apocalypse, investors rehearse optimism. The missiles point skyward, the charts go up, and the rest of us just try to tell which graph matters more.

This week, we look at both — the politics that burn and the markets that pretend they’re fireproof.

“The world doesn’t collapse anymore — it trends.”

1. Putin Threatens the World with Poseidon: Russia’s Nuclear Tsunami Drone That Could Wipe Out the US

It began with a smile, the sort of calm expression that belongs more to a chess player than a statesman. Vladimir Putin announced that Russia’s underwater drone “Poseidon” had completed its full-scale trials — a torpedo powered by a miniature nuclear reactor, capable, at least in theory, of triggering a radioactive tsunami that could wash entire coastlines from the map.

To the untrained ear, it sounded like a relic from the Cold War’s darker novels. But this time the stage lights were real. Footage from a Russian naval base showed technicians in white overalls and a submarine the size of a cathedral. “A new dimension of deterrence,” the Kremlin called it. The West called it something else: lunacy with a periscope.

And then came the encore. Alongside Poseidon, Moscow reminded the world of the Burevestnik — the nuclear-powered cruise missile Western media have already christened the “Flying Chernobyl.” A machine designed to fly indefinitely, fuelled by the very substance it threatens to unleash.

But who is this performance for?
For NATO generals calculating insurance premiums. For Russian voters who equate power with apocalypse. And for Donald Trump, who, days earlier, had bragged that U.S. submarines were “always nearby.” Two men swapping metaphors of annihilation as if they were currency.

Some analysts insist it’s bluff — part of a wider negotiation theatre. Perhaps. But even theatre leaves scars when the props are radioactive.

Markets hardly blinked. Oil dipped, gold drifted. Fear, these days, is just another asset class.

“In the nuclear age, the loudest explosions happen on balance sheets before they ever touch the water.”

2. Trump and Xi Agree to Pause the Trade War

For once, the world exhaled — briefly.
At the APEC suDonald and Xi sat across fro

On paper, the meeting produced nothing historic. Washington agreed to suspend new ta on Chinese“we’ll th

Still, symbolism matters. The optics of Trump and Xi together — even in a chilly South Korean hangar — gave markets something to believe in. The Dow rose, oil steadied, and commentators used the word “stability” for the first time in months without irony.

Behind the smiles, though, the architecture of mistrust remains. America’s semiconductor bans stay in place; China’s export controls on gallium and germanium aren’t going anywhere. The truce is temporary, the competition existential.

Both leaders needed this scene: Trump, to look like the peacemaker before an election year; Xi, to remind domestic audiences that the dragon still negotiates as an equal. The handshake, like most diplomacy, was more photograph than policy.

And yet, in a year filled with detonations and drones, even a pause in tariffs feels revolutionary. The global economy runs not on certainty, but on suspension of disbelief — and this week, both men delivered just enough of it.

“Trade peace isn’t a treaty — it’s an interval between press conferences.”

3. France Prepares to Send 2 000 Troops to Ukraine

It began with a rumour and ended like most rumours do — half denied, half confirmed.
According to Russia’s foreign intelligence service, France is preparing to deploy up to 2 000 troops to Ukraine, many of them drawn from the famed Foreign Legion. Paris called the claim “a distortion.” Moscow called it “evidence.” The truth, as usual, lives somewhere between translation and timing.

Still, something shifted. French defence sources quietly acknowledged “expanded training operations” in Eastern Europe, and new logistics convoys were spotted crossing into Poland. Officially, they’re advisers. Unofficially, no one uses that word without a helmet anymore.

President Emmanuel Macron, who once flirted with the role of Europe’s peacemaker, now speaks the language of deterrence. His latest line — “France will stand where freedom is threatened” — sounded noble enough for headlines, if slightly out of sync with public opinion. Polls show most French voters want less war, not more theatre.

The symbolism, however, is priceless. While Washington and Brussels debate fatigue, Paris chooses visibility. A nation once allergic to American wars now positions itself as the continent’s spine. For Moscow, it’s another excuse to talk about “Western escalation.” For Kyiv, a promise with a heartbeat.

No one believes France will tip the balance militarily; that’s not the point. In modern conflicts, optics move faster than artillery. Macron understands that a photo of a Legion insignia in Donbas is worth a dozen policy papers in Brussels.

Europe, for now, claps politely — relieved someone still remembers what resolve looks like, even if it’s wearing borrowed courage.

“In war, presence is half the victory — and the other half is pretending you meant to be there.”

4. Russia Claims 10 000 Ukrainian Soldiers Trapped Near Pokrovsk and Kupyansk

It was announced with the kind of confidence that doesn’t ask for verification.
On 29 October, Vladimir Putin declared that around 10 000 Ukrainian soldiers had been “encircled” near Pokrovsk and Kupyansk, describing it as a decisive moment in the war. Russian media called it “the new Mariupol.” Western analysts called it “unconfirmed.”

Ukraine denied the claim within hours, insisting that its lines remain “flexible” — a military term that usually translates to “we’re still moving, just not forward.” Satellite imagery and battlefield reports showed heavy fighting but no clear evidence of a full encirclement. As with most modern wars, the truth travels slower than the footage.

Still, the narrative mattered more than the map.
For Moscow, it was a declaration of momentum. For Kyiv, a reminder of fatigue. For Washington and Brussels, another line on the endless chart of escalation versus endurance. Each side now fights two wars at once — one with shells, another with adjectives.

The timing was strategic. Just as the world focused on Gaza and the Pacific, Russia reclaimed the spotlight. “Our operation continues according to plan,” Putin said, the sentence that has now outlived several generals.

Markets noticed, briefly. Wheat futures ticked up; energy traders held their breath. Then, as always, calm returned — the kind of calm that hums like electricity before a storm.

No one outside the front lines can say exactly what’s happening near Pokrovsk. But everyone feels what it means: the war is learning to repeat itself.

“In modern conflict, victory isn’t measured in territory — it’s measured in how long the lie can hold its breath.”

5. Israel Resumes Strikes on Gaza — Trump’s Peace Collapses Before It Begins

It started quietly — the kind of quiet that usually means the noise is coming.
Israel has resumed airstrikes on Gaza, ending what little was left of the ceasefire wrapped inside Donald Trump’s so-called peace plan.

By dawn, Gaza City was a map of broken glass. The strikes killed more than a hundred people, nearly half of them children. Hospitals ran on fumes; electricity flickered, but the rockets didn’t. Tel Aviv called it self-defence, Hamas called it revenge. Everyone else called it what it was — another round.

Trump, asked to comment, said only that “peace takes time.” The phrase sounded rehearsed, like something left over from a campaign trail. His blueprint had promised stability built on investment zones and new trade corridors. Yet the only corridors open this week were for ambulances.

In Europe, statements arrived by reflex. Grave concern, restraint, dialogue. The usual incantations. The UN met, again, as if repetition could substitute for resolve. Markets barely twitched; they’ve learned that moral outrage doesn’t move indices. Oil rose, arms stocks smiled, and humanitarian aid trended for half a day before disappearing beneath quarterly reports.

This is how the world now experiences war — through half-read headlines and the dull acceptance that it will happen again. The tragedy of Gaza isn’t only the destruction; it’s the routine of it.

And somewhere between the press releases and the explosions, Trump’s “deal of the century” finally found its real name — the illusion of choice.

“Peace here doesn’t die in battle; it dies in scheduling.”

6. Nvidia Hits $5 Trillion Valuation — AI Fever Redefines the Market

Some weeks change everything without trying.
This one belonged to Nvidia — the chipmaker that quietly became bigger than most countries. Its valuation hit five trillion dollars, a number so surreal it feels less like finance and more like mythology.

The cause isn’t a mystery. Every major company now wants what Nvidia builds — the processing muscle behind artificial intelligence. A decade ago, its chips rendered video games. Now they render economies. Data centres multiply, power grids strain, and investors call it “progress.”

Inside trading floors, people have stopped discussing profit margins. They talk about capacity, about cooling systems, about energy density. Words that sound more like engineering than finance. One London analyst called it “the infrastructure of thought.” Another just said, “We’re all addicted.”

Nvidia’s success isn’t purely technological — it’s spiritual. Markets have turned GPUs into faith instruments. Every forecast starts with belief and ends with valuation. CEO Jensen Huang, dressed like a rock star at a physics lecture, declared: “The next era of computing has begun.” The crowd cheered, and the share price obeyed.

But even miracles carry expiry dates. Power shortages, chip hoarding, and export bans are already clouding the horizon. When one firm becomes the pulse of an entire industry, that pulse can stop faster than anyone expects.

Still, the story works — and for now, that’s enough.

“Every gold rush begins with a shovel — and ends when people start selling the map.”

7. China’s New Five-Year Plan: Total Technological Self-Reliance

Beijing has stopped pretending to chase the future — it’s decided to build it instead.
Last week, the Communist Party unveiled its new five-year plan (2026–2030), a manifesto that reads less like policy and more like a declaration of separation. The goal: total technological independence.

No more imported chips. No more Western software licences. No more waiting for Washington’s permission to upgrade. China’s message was crisp — if we can’t buy it, we’ll invent it.

The plan stretches across everything: quantum computing, robotics, synthetic biology, semiconductors, and energy storage. Each section repeats the same phrase — 自主创新 — “independent innovation.” It’s both slogan and survival code.

For decades, China grew by integrating into the global economy. Now it’s rewriting the manual — carving out an ecosystem that can thrive even if the rest of the world decides to pull the plug. The logic is simple: dependence is weakness, and weakness is no longer affordable.

Western capitals called the plan “ambitious.” Investors called it “inevitable.” The real question isn’t whether China can do it — it’s what happens when it does. A self-sufficient China means a fragmented planet: competing standards, isolated networks, and trade that sounds more like diplomacy than business.

Inside China, the mood was celebratory. State media called it “the great technological rejuvenation.” Students cheered when Huawei unveiled its latest chip built entirely from domestic components. It wasn’t faster than its American rivals — just possible. And that, for Beijing, is the victory.

The world once built factories in China. Now China is building a world without factories abroad.

“When you can’t join the system, you become one.”

8. Markets Rise as Investors Bet on Rate Cuts — Optimism or Delusion?

You can almost hear the champagne fizzing through the spreadsheets.
Global markets ended the week on a high, investors whispering the same magic phrase — rate cuts are coming. Whether that’s analysis or collective hallucination depends on who you ask.

In New York, the S&P hit a record close; in London, the FTSE finally remembered how to smile; even Frankfurt looked optimistic for a change. Traders called it “momentum.” Economists called it “wishful arithmetic.” Both were right.

The logic is simple: central banks will soon blink. Inflation is cooling, unemployment is stable, and politicians are panicking about slow growth — the perfect cocktail for a dovish pivot. Futures now price in at least two rate cuts by spring. It’s the financial version of betting on sunshine during hurricane season.

Behind the euphoria sits something fragile. Corporate earnings remain flat, household debt is climbing, and the cost of living has quietly become the world’s most persistent tax. Yet the graphs keep rising, as if optimism itself were a tradable asset.

In Hong Kong and Tokyo, the mood was identical — a mix of relief and disbelief. Even the bond market, usually allergic to enthusiasm, joined the rally. “The soft landing is here,” one analyst said on Bloomberg. Moments later, another warned, “So is gravity.”

What keeps the illusion alive isn’t data — it’s habit. Investors have spent fifteen years learning that central banks will always catch them. Maybe this time they’re right. Maybe they’ve just forgotten how to fall.

“Markets don’t predict the future — they rent it, one headline at a time.”

9. Amazon and Nestlé Slash Jobs as AI Automation Tightens Margins

It’s been another week of polite bloodletting in the corporate world.
Amazon and Nestlé both announced large-scale job cuts — different continents, same vocabulary. “Restructuring.” “Efficiency.” “Future-readiness.” You could almost mistake the press releases for each other if not for the logos on top.

At Amazon, robots now hum where people once worked in silence. Conveyor belts glow blue under sensors that never sleep. Nestlé isn’t far behind; its factories run smoother than the coffee machines in its offices. The machines don’t take breaks, don’t unionise, don’t call in sick — just blink quietly when something jams.

Inside boardrooms, the numbers look beautiful. Margins up, costs down. Shareholders nod. Somewhere outside, the people who used to make those margins possible are trying to work out how to pay rent next month.

Governments promise retraining again — a ritual more than a remedy. “New opportunities in the digital economy,” they say, as if the man from the loading dock could turn into a data scientist overnight. A few will. Most won’t. Progress rarely waits for paperwork.

What’s happening isn’t collapse; it’s evaporation. The middle is disappearing — not through crisis, but through optimisation. The world’s richest companies are teaching everyone else that growth doesn’t need growth anymore.

Markets, naturally, applauded. They always do when labour costs shrink. It’s easier to believe in innovation when someone else is paying the price.

“Technology never fires people. It just makes it obvious who’s no longer required.”

10. New Zealand Cuts Rates to 2.5% — A Global Signal of Softening Monetary Policy

Sometimes the smallest economies speak the loudest.
This week the Reserve Bank of New Zealand cut its benchmark interest rate by half a percentage point — down to 2.5%, the lowest in over a decade. It was meant as a local decision. The markets heard it as a global one.

Inflation is cooling faster than expected, unemployment creeping up. The bank’s statement spoke of “ensuring sustainable growth.” Traders translated it as: the age of expensive money is ending.

Within hours, currencies twitched. The New Zealand dollar dipped, the Australian followed, and Asian bonds quietly rallied. In London and New York, analysts began rewriting their year-end forecasts. A small island nation had just whispered what every major economy is too proud to admit — tightening is over; the easing has begun.

The irony is that New Zealand was among the first to raise rates back in 2022, warning that inflation would burn through savings. Now it’s among the first to blink. Policy cycles, like fashion trends, always return to where they started.

Central bankers insist this isn’t a pivot, merely “adjustment.” Investors know better. Cheap money is habit-forming, and the world has been sober for too long. The next global rally might not begin in Washington or Frankfurt but in Wellington, carried by the scent of cheaper credit and collective relief.

The decision won’t change the planet’s course — but it changes the conversation.

“Monetary policy doesn’t lead the world anymore; it follows the mood.”