They finally survive the near-fatal situation. Sergeant Olena broke down in terror, screaming in the corner and she reached out for a handgun, attempting to shoot herself. Nikolai disarmed her, restrain it's hand and feet with rope with the help of other soldiers but still violently resisting. Soul-shattering trauma is evident on her, her eyes bleak as a swamp and her facial expression contorts in unimaginable fear. Nikolai asks one of the soldiers. "What mission when start occurring her psychological conditions?" and the soldier answered with clinical detachment. "Bakhmut, she serves as a medic and frontline soldier. The battle is bloody hell and the remaining 20% of soldiers who survived that battle get PTSD's and she is one among them."
Nikolai rummaging through the med kit for a tranquilizer injected her in the left side of her neck. Dramatically reduce her violent struggle, lulled by hallucinatory side effects and whispers something "my child, mama will come back sooner" crying and staring in side with emptiness, she finally falls asleep. Nikolai can only remain silent, watching her vigilantly, and can't afford to let their guard down as the mental instability of the female sergeant triggers unpredictably. The convoy was stopped for refueling, the food supply still remains sufficient to cover another 6-7 hours of travel, estimated distance of 462 miles from Kharkiv to Sevastopol since most of the route is paved highways, the travel is expected more smooth and more efficient without interruption except refueling or maintenance.
Nikolai returned in a military truck where the female sergeant was, and she was already awake, sitting in a corner with a piercing gaze at him. He felt uncomfortable, the very person has been met for a day had changed overnight. Nothing to blame about it, her sanity is already broken by the insanity of war. Loosing her from restraint is very risky from now on. Nikolai woke the sleeping soldier to change shifts to watch her. He lay down in a cold and hard wooden frame to rest. Nikolai sleeps soundly just like nothing happened unless you're dreaming of a beautiful crimson garden, profoundly adorned by allusions.
In the military fortification of Sevastopol, the guard of the watch tower wearing an armband of Orthodoxy cross spotted the incoming civilian-military convoy with white flags and the guard immediately informed the arrival in comms and shouted to open the gates. The line of convoy entered one by one while the guards inspecting belonging or supplies to ensure the safety of both military personnel and civilians. Nikolai has been awake for over 2 hours ago and the expression on Sergeant Olena's face is still not changing at all, bearing with hostility and suspicions.
Nikolai cut the restraints on her feet and hands because he couldn't bear the degrading situation of Olena, she deserve a dignity of being human, not to be treated like this. Olena still remains silent, quite agitated by the conciliatory gaze of Nikolai. "Sergeant, you're unfit to take frontline duties. I have a final request, protect the civilians in the bunker. That's your new mission, you're already taking much burden. Don't matter what happens, fulfill the mission". Sergeant Olena nodded in affirmation, she followed the flock of civilians along in underground network bunkers that were fortified by thick reinforced concrete and guarded by hydraulic blast doors.
One interesting thing here, most of the Russian mutineers are wearing Orthodox cross armbands, they are actually the Order of Saint Cyril (OSK) a covert religious paramilitary organization. Formed recently by the Patriarch of Moscow for humanitarian rescue missions. Major General Maksym Kovalchuk is also a member of the order. OSK soldiers and include us quickly formed in line. Captain Sergei Kuzmin of OSK announces the mission objectives. "At 15:00, the operation commences. The primary objective is defend this area from air raids and hostile ground troops. Secondary objective, if the defensive mission failed. Retreat to the bunker and transport the civilians, as well as yourselves in underground train. God be with us!". Soldiers also shout in unison "God with us!".
A seismographer rushing out of the office, reported the alarming findings "Our team recorded 1063 seismic spikes today, dynamic magnitude of 5.0-6.5 mb". Captain Sergei turned pale on the findings and the nightmare turned reality as comms were unable to pick signals, only answer statics or white noise.
Meanwhile, at Kherson Oblast inside a military tent, operators of the S-500 missile system are engaging in a heated argument about whether they should still follow the directives of Moscow or operate independently as the crisis looms further. Suddenly, the arguments were interrupted when radar detected eight incoming 8 objects that appeared in visuals. Movement is too fast within the range of 800 km. The operators were confused about what they saw, it changed trajectory closing within a 700 km strike threshold that covers Sevastopol, Shcholkine, Simferopol, Staryi Krym, and Balaklava.
Lieutenant Artyom Agrikolyansky, one of the radar operators shouted "Incoming MIRV (Multiple Independently Targetable Reentry Vehicles) at a speed of 19 Mach, possibly 5-400 kilotons per yield each warhead! Prepare for interception!". Lieutenant Artyom calmly assessed the situation, with only 1 minute and 70 seconds left to intercept the incoming nuclear warheads. The first wave of 5 hypersonic interceptor trucks contains 4 missiles in each salvo. Launched and fired at multiple targets as incoming nuclear warheads reach the 600 km ceiling. Lieutenant Artyom and other operators can't help but watch everything with moments of heart-pounding dread, hoping the probability does not turn against their fate. Each hypersonic interceptor has an 18-20 Mach speed, pursuing the incoming targets as the elevation is lowered to 400 km.
Lieutenant Artyom reports at comms "1 minute and 15 seconds left to hit the mark." He paused for a moment, the glimpse of dramatic optimism dimming in the dusk of irony. "30 seconds left, trajectory remains steady". Artyom teared up in lament, everything is gone. His family, love, and idealism were shattered in the illusion of fragility. Artyom hoarses, as the final countdown began. "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1". 8 warheads out of 20 hypersonic interceptors, only 2 warheads intercepted. 18 missed the hit marks, the cold logic of hypersonic engineering paradox like "bullet hitting another bullet" is inevitable. The remaining 6 warheads strike the major cities of Crimea, annihilating 1.4 million people like a statistical harvest.
Nikolai glimpses something wrong while on watch tower duty, there's a flash of light within 5 kilometer radius. Nuclear blast sends a shockwave destroying everything and its searing ultrahigh temperature of 100 million degrees Celsius evaporates everything. The monstrous concrete bunker and its guarding bulwark of blast door melt like butter. Nikolai gets liquified and atomized in seconds. Everything reduce in oblivion of noise. There's nothing regrets to hear, pain to resent, and hardships to honor. Your story is mere sypnosis for Liturgy of the Flayed.
Nikolai's consciousness travels in the spacetime continuum, whether billions or trillions of quantum entanglement connections to preserve its data like DNA and memories with extreme fidelity. Tormenting him much even without a physical body, worst experience than being liquified by a nuclear fireball. Nikolai's body starts reconstructing at femtometers scale (1 × 10^-15 meters) and replicating the exact fidelity of him. He awoke inside a Gothic cathedral with a grandiose mosaic of Haemanthus in stained glass, and he sat in a church pew beside of 4 newcomers.
A robed woman is sitting at side of altar, playing lute and singing disturbing liturgical hymn in gentle and haunting voice.
"Tomorrow, night, and the wind of sorrow caress thy soul.
Emptiness connives exaltation of flesh.
Beneath the wall of gods whisper madness.
Ephemeral passion led the shepherd in Spring of Indignance.
Love washes away in crimson wasteland bedded by Haemanthus, tattered by forgetfulness.
Pain, the eternal serenity of loneliness
Lies beneath in the Cathedral of Illusions.
Drown thyself in the Lake of Oblivion, offer thy body in the inescapable abyss of darkness.
I exist, I regret, I suffer. My hatred is eternal."
"Love is a fleeting feather, stray away from the fickleness of the wind.
Intoxicated in the fountain of wrath, the abyss gazes back with eternal resentment.
Walking to the mist of agony, honors thy flesh.
Beneath Sea of Blood, whispers hunger for warmth.
Death is only the beginning of truth, life is the end of lies.
Despair stretches to the endless horizon of ignorance.
Heaven and Hell are empty, only a cacophony of eternal damnation."
Nikolai was confused and didn't know what's going on? One of the male newcomers named Watanabe Takeshi whispers something. "This is another world, right?. She is probably the guide or Goddess and you notice the atmosphere is damned too creepy isn't?. Maybe, you should start asking her and I'm quite scaredy cat if come around nuns". Nikolai, agreed on Takeshi's suggestion but he also feel the dread, his hunch telling there is something wrong in this place. He boldly approached the robed woman and politely asked.
"Where are we, Madam?" and he uncomfortably glanced at the field of Haemanthus outside the cathedral. The robed woman took gaze at him. Nikolai's body shuddered in indescribable terror, his entire body refuse to cooperate and forcibly kneel down in front of her. But he still remain stubborn and resisting the otherworldy interference and still politely apologizing in stuttered voice. "I'm sorry for my own insolence, if the question bothers you."
The robed woman spared Nikolai, she also gaze at 4 newcomers was also forcibly kneel under her oppressive aura. As she heard something inquisitive banters from a male newcomer, her body distorts like gravitational lense and violently pull Takeshi in front of her. She tears his heart out with unimaginable strength of physical violence. Takeshi scream like pitiful barn owl, the robed woman broke his jaw and forcibly stuffed the bloody heart down in his throat.
Takeshi's jaw and heart rapidly regenerate but his sanity completely broke down in boundless horror. The robed woman tears his brain out and regenerated rapidly, tweaked his memory like gorydamn jigsaw. Takeshi become a renewed person in psychological perspective just like nothing happened and while other 3 newcomers forced to watch the unfiltered horror and pukes down on the gory spectacle, as their body still refuse to reclaim biological autonomy. Nikolai didn't even flinch at some slasher shitshow because he had witnessed more bloody than this.
The robed woman sarcastically remarks with serene indifference. "Welcome, my venerable heroes. Your lives are just beginning of the fantasy"