Country Stories presents: Chaos (LEGACY)

Revolution

The phone rang in Petrograd's office, it was the fifth time this day, and there was no doubt that the call had come from Russia again; the year had not started well for him, his success from last summer had been turned upside down immediately and now everything was trouble; Suddenly, food began to be in scarce and ammunition was running out rapidly, the army began to riot and the situation got out of his hands, those desperate phone calls were the consequence of this surprising decline, but they were also the sign of a storm on the horizon, one that would stain things red...but now I'm talking more than I should, for now, Petrograd only had to answer the call.

Petrograd : Yes?

Russia: T-Thank you very much for answering! I'm in trouble...again

Petrograd: Yes, it doesn't surprise me

Russia: P-Please...tell His Highness that I need help

Petrograd: I will, but I can't guarantee he will listen to me

Russia: I understand...thanks for everything

Petrograd: Sure, oh and one more thing-

Before he could finish his sentence, a machine gun blast cut the phone line, leaving Petrograd in darkness and worrying about Russia's fate, he shook his head, he had to find a way to help him before things got worse; But when he saw the situation in the streets, that seemed complicated; As he left the grounds of the imperial palace, he was immediately met by a crowd pleading for food...it was true, the few rations they still had were being sent to the frontline to try to avoid further riots, and the civilians were hardly receiving crumbs. Petrograd had nothing to give them, so he pretended not to see them and walked past. However, another person...

Ever since he was relegated from his military post in 1915, Moscow had become not only another city of the bunch, but also a source of humiliation for failing the Tsar; for two years, he was hiding from the ridiculing and judging eyes of others in all the places that were possible; On one occasion he stumbled upon a kind of secret meeting, a place where workers, soldiers, and peasants seemed to put their differences aside with one simple goal: Complaining about the monarchy, Moscow had entered a Soviet.

It didn't take long for Moscow, humiliated and degraded by that same monarchy, to join that group; that group of apparent equals waiting for the perfect opportunity to create a change in that absolutist regime that had treated them so badly. To celebrate the year 1917, Moscow was going to bring the revolution to his own people, after all, if there is a person who is actually the human version of a nation, wouldn't it be convenient to drag him into your cause?

Moscow took out of his coat a loaf of bread that he had obtained, and he did not hesitate for a moment to give it to that crowd that Petrograd had ignored minutes ago, even though it was not large, it was enough to cut a good sized slice for each one; the group of people thanked Moscow, perhaps that would be the only meal they would have in days. Moscow, who had long since replaced his royal designer attire with a simple workman's overalls, took off his hat, indicating that there was no reason to thank him, and soon resumed his march.

Moscow: You shouldn't worry, we are going to teach the tsar that he shouldn't play with the people very soon.

Moscow knew it well, the strikes and protests had not only spread like the scarce hot bread in the course of those days, but that March 8 was approaching, he had never taken real importance to Women's Day, but that occasion It was going to be special, the strike that was going to be led by them was going to be the spark that would fan the flame, the real revolution was about to begin.

The days before that day arrived seemed like an eternity to Moscow, but he waited patiently for the moment, and the moment arrived in the early hours of that March 8, that day, the noise of the factories working at full steam that usually woke up Petrograd didn't sound, what seemed like a calm day beginning was the signal that something was happening; The capital did not know it, but that alarming silence did not mean anything other than the start of the Revolution, the moment Petrograd left his residence, his life would never be the same, ever again.