Lydia Armageddon, Saffi Kalashnik, Samuil Abdulov.
Russian Bastion: Serdtse Revolyutsii,
The year 2173.
A nation is a tool.
It is sharpened by absolute rule.
Samuil and Saffi latched onto Lydia as she leapt with a bellowing gale beneath her, sending them soaring into the night sky. Zipping through the neon horizon into the Center of Revolution, they could spot a great congregation of people. Miroslav and Rurik were halfway there, running down the crumbling layered roads. All traffic had come to a screeching halt. They stepped out of their vehicles, watching the towers of glass and steel that scraped the skies.
"What's going on?!" Saffi shouted, wind whipping her face. They came close enough to the gathering of hundreds of people and saw it. The sight sent shivers and goosebumps down the three's flesh.
"Auntie! The towers!"
On every skyscraper, the glass panels worked in cohesion to display the same broadcast across the entire length of the building: the Pillar of the World blown to pieces, entirely engulfed in flames, panels of steel falling to the concrete grounds, exposed metal framing with sparks of electricity flying off torn wiring. Lydia couldn't tell if the people wept or cheered.
Lydia cut through the air, zooming down to the ground. She slowed as she neared the tarmac road; she let Saffi and Samuil down. Anthony ran to them with Saffi, who met him halfway. Samuil and Lydia followed close behind.
"Romanov!" Saffi shouted. Lydia and Samuil followed closely. "What is happening?!"
"I caught word that there was a terrorist attack on The Pillar of The World, and sure enough." He said, rushed and breathless. He pointed to the enlarged displays. Smoldering smoke covered the display across the length of the skyscrapers surrounding them, people entranced by the pillar of fire—some in celebration of their ultimate oppressor falling to ruin, the rest in screaming lament and terror. The sweeping camera off the helicopter circled the blazing tower, dwarfing the crowd of hundreds of thousands gathered.
"That's where their leaders are?" Lydia said.
"And it's gone, and the rebellion stormed the place as soon as the bombs went off." Anthony turned away and looked up at the displays that surrounded them. "The world changes today, and I don't know what that means for us."
"Anthony," Saffi began, grabbing his shoulder and looking up at the display with him. "I got what you wanted."
"Tell me."
"The World Capital is vulnerable. A superweapon they were developing had resumed production with Lydia being active; they are fearful she will use the Church of Armageddon to initiate war against them."
"... I've heard what their followers say about her. Their worries are real. What is the weapon?"
"Far larger than you can imagine, I guarantee you that."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I designed it."
Anthony stayed silent—quiet, resigned at the realization of who was standing next to him. "You're Dr. Kalashnik."
Saffi swallowed the aching in her chest, not able to forgo the lump in her throat, continuing. "...War isn't coming, not by her hands. They risk starting that war with such a weapon completed. It doesn't make sense..."
"Their fear that Lydia can seize the imaginations of their fanatics can be used by us, then. Is that our advantage?"
Saffi flinched at the thought, "There will never be good to come of that place. We don't need another Conqueror."
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Mother Earth.
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