Some news is read holding your breath, because the mistake cannot be undone. The Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant - the largest in Europe - has been struck again. According to the plant's management, the strike hit the transport zone: three vehicles were damaged, two completely burned out, along with fuel pumps and workshop windows. Fortunately, this time - no casualties.

The management said radiation levels remain "within normal limits" and that the plant is operating "under staff control". The strike, they say, was aimed at the supply and staff-transport system, not at the reactors themselves. It sounds reassuring until you think about what the phrase "no casualties this time" means - that a version with casualties also exists, and that this version hangs over a place like this every single day.

Because that is exactly the truth no official statement wants to say out loud: a nuclear plant in a war zone is a disaster waiting its turn. The facility runs under wartime conditions, under international oversight, and depends on something seemingly mundane - vehicles, fuel, people coming in for their shift. When that supply is a target of attacks, it is a question of when, not whether, something more serious happens.

For the Balkans, which remember nuclear disaster only from the textbooks on Chernobyl, this is not distant news. A cloud knows no borders, and the wind does not read press releases. When two sides in a conflict trade blame over who is firing toward the reactor, the world watches and asks one thing: how many times does the danger have to repeat before someone with real power says enough - before the mistake becomes the one that cannot be fixed?