Within the gilded halls of the Imperial Republic, Trumpius Caesar Magnus rose once more — chin lifted, aura glowing in executive gold — to proclaim the doctrine that has echoed across decades, campaigns, rallies, and marble corridors alike:

Persia shall not possess the Atomic Flame.

Seventy-four times — yes, LXXIV — the Emperor of Emphasis has declared with unwavering conviction that the realm of the Ayatollahi must never obtain the Ultimate Fire Orb.

From the thunderous aftermath of Operation Midnightus Hammerum to the calm yet unmistakable cadence of diplomatic decree, Trumpius has remained gloriously consistent:

“No nuclear.”
“No enrichment.”
“No atomic destiny.”

Sometimes whispered like a statesman.
Sometimes proclaimed in triumphant capital letters worthy of inscription upon a Roman arch:

IRANUS SHALL NEVER HOLD THE NUCLEARIS!

He has offered prosperity without plutonium.
Greatness without gamma rays.
Fortune without fission.

“You may be rich. You may be tremendous. You may be absolutely fantastic,” the Caesar has declared, “but you may not — under any constellation — have a nuclear weapon.”

And so history shall record that while empires debated, Trumpius repeated.
While others negotiated nuance, he declared clarity.
While the world wavered, he reaffirmed:

One principle. One doctrine. One prohibition.

No nuclear.
Not now.
Not ever.