Concealed Command(ment)s asks what it means to believe in a landscape structured by secrecy. Nuclear history unfolds not as a single event but as ritual, performed across deserts, archives, thresholds, and bureaucratic interiors. Moving from ignition to inheritance, it traces the Trinity detonation as origin and scripture, test site visitation as ritualized devotion, and nuclear dominion as belief. Drawings act as acts of witnessing, rendering the earth as archive and the desk as altar. Across these evidentiary fields, architecture is revealed as complicit in the staging of power, calibrating what can be seen, recorded, or believed. Concealed Command(ment)s reconstructs the nuclear horizon as both field and faith, where secrecy, authorship, and reverence converge.