After the fires of the Third World War, three Soviet soldiers awaken 3000 years after the ash has settled
On April 11th, 1984 the trigger was pulled. Following a Cold War that turned more and more dystopian and with a much more hostile Soviet Union things never deescalated completely, coming to a head on a quiet morning after three years of bloody world war humanity finally ended itself in nuclear fire.
3000 years after the slate was wiped clean, the world has began anew. New life, entire continents reshaped, most remnants of the previous owners reduced to dust.
Dimitri Antonov, a reluctant conscript,
Mikhail Markov, a war weary veteran,
and Ivan Abakumov an ideological fanatic.
The last of their race, brought back by a freak magic surge that occurs during the second use of the Elements of Harmony.
In the center of the Everfree forest it was almost as if the world was coming to an end
Magically caused explosions reduce rock and cloth alike to not more than dust. A battle, taking place in the very heart of the Equestrian Capital between two sisters. One, lost within her anger and spite at being rejected by the world and the other heart broken and pleading, hoping that her dear sister would return to her senses.
For hours they battled, their once beautiful castle home now naught more than a glorified heap of rubble, barely held together and partially collapsed after a blast hit a major supportive pillar. Beautifully woven tapestries of day and night alike ripped to pieces and set aflame by the manifestation of the younger’s rage.
No words were uttered, how could they be? The oldest having lost the ability to shout hours before, now the only sign of her sorrow the tears that stain her cheeks.
‘I can’t win this... not if things continue how they are,’ Celestia realizes, quickly throwing up a magical shield to block another of Luna’s, now the self Proclaimed Nightmare Moon’s blasts.
It was starting to crack.
‘It’s not going to hold, she’s too strong!’
Eyes desperately scanning her surroundings the Princess of the Sun spots what may be her only chance at salvation. A small door behind the remains of the throne, seemingly untouched despite the furious battle of the last few hours.
‘I’m sorry, Luna,’
Celestia dashes, dropping her shield just as it’s about to shatter under her sisters wrath. Letting out a yelp of pain as one of her sisters attacks tears a bloody hole through one of her hind legs.
Using her magic to propel herself forwards she bursts through the simple door and into the adjoining room.
Fairly small by the standards the rest of the castle might have maintained and bare of all decoration, the only feature of this room is the large stone pedestal in the center of it, bearing six artifacts of immeasurable importance and power.
‘The Elements of Harmony!’ Celestia mentally exclaims, dashing towards the pedestal and grasping all six of the revered stones with her magic before desperately attempt to yank them from their pedestal.
“I don’t think so dear sister of mine!” A loud voice exclaims from behind, followed by the sensation of an immense amount of dark magic building up.
Celestia rolls to the side, abandoning the Elements and dodging the blast that was meant to take her life by mere inches.
The pedestal however, was not so lucky.
With a sound comparable to rending metal and smashing stone the pedestal explodes, the room filling with a think cloud of dust and the scent of ancient decay.
After several seconds the dust settles, revealing a gaping hole where the pedestal once sat. At least 20 meters deep and perfectly circular aside from where Nightmare’s blast had damaged it.
Both Alicorns pause for a moment staring in mild surprise, neither had ever known of such a tunnel existing, their long departed mother never leaving any mention of it in the castles blueprints.
Their attention is once again diverted when a massive glow obscures their vision, the Elements unharmed and protected by a glowing shield of pure light drop into a deadfall, plummeting into the darkness below.
A second passes,
Then another,
Nightmare Moon and Celestia lock eyes.
Nearly simultaneously both Alicorns push off the shattered ground, powerful wings beating as they dive as fast as possible into the hole, shoving one another to the side in a mad dash to grab falling artifacts.
For what seems like hours, but in reality is only around eight seconds they fall, both gaining numerous cuts and bruises after being shoved into the side walls by each other in their desperate plummet to grab the Artifacts. Horns light, only to have to be diverted from Telekinesis to raising a swift shield to defend from a magic bolt.
Celestia hits the ground first, reaching out and grabbing one of the Elements with a hoof before a bolt from her fallen sister forces her to drop it.
“Please, Luna! Stop this madness!” Celestia cry’s out, desperation and sorrow having filled her eyes.
A scoff, “My name is no longer Luna. In fact, Luna no longer exists. I am Nightmare Moon, the rightful Queen of Equestria! I will make all of them see the true beauty of the Night, for it will last forever!” The maddened sister exclaims, hate in her eyes
“Luna, please! I’m sorry for not noticing... but please! If not for me, for mother she wouldn’t have wanted this!” Celestia cries out, while inching towards fallen elements.
Nightmare scowls, “Mother?! She always cared for you over me, ‘Why can’t you be more like your sister, Luna?’ ‘Quit being silly, Luna ponies sleep at night!’ Look who’s silly now!”
A fresh wave of tears spill from Celestia’s eyes.
“Luna... she loved you. She only ever wanted you to be the best you could be,”
Two hoof steps away from the Artifacts now.
“Love?! Of course you would preach about love, in fact that’s all you ev - “
A loud and particularly vicious crunch interrupts her, both Alicorns whipping their heads towards the direction of the noise.
Celestia, her hoof planted square through the crushed rib cage of an ancient bipedal skeleton.
Both finally taking in the entirety of the room.
Dozens of skeletons, dressed in ancient fatigues and surrounded by the dropped bits of corroded metal and rotted wood. All outside of a massive sealed steel gate labeled ‘Бункер девяносто Шесть’ in faded golden text.
Taking the moment of distraction, Celestia grabs the Elements in her magic bringing them up and pouring her emotions into them.
“I’m sorry, Luna!!!” she screams while Nightmare howls in rage and rushes towards her.
But it was too late.
With a steady hum followed by a bright flash the Elements do their work.
Celestia collapses in exhaustion, sobbing in silence. The only witness being herself and the sorrowful and trapped spirits of those long dead who cry along with her.
All across Equestria terrified ponies exit their homes to gaze a brightening night sky, the only sign of the struggle between two sisters a faint imprint of a mare in the moon.
Elsewhere around the world creatures of all kind take a momentary glance upwards, frowning for a moment before returning to their daily toil.
In the far Frozen north, under layers of snow, ice and rock somewhere nothing living has graced for over 3 millennia is graced with the presence of life.
Dimitri was cold, more than cold in fact. The chill seemed to penetrate to his very bones, unrelenting and unmerciful. The sharp bite of General Winter’s cruel breath tearing through the ill-fitting hand me down fatigues he’d been supplied with and reaching to his very core.
With a groan he slowly rises, rubbing the back of his palm against his eyes to clear the snow that’d built up over his lids, else they freeze shut entirely. Half blinded he reaches out to his sides desperately seeking his ushanka and scarf.
After a few moments of struggling he finally manages to open his eyes fully, blinking a few times to clear the blurriness.
With sight regained he easily locates his fallen head and facial wear, slightly off to the right and partially buried by snow. Groaning in annoyance he first grabs his ushanka, brushing the snow off its top and placing the light brown hat emblazoned with the ever watchful red star upon his head. Releasing the ear flaps with a quick tug and retying the string connecting them to hold beneath his neck.
With that done he grabs his scarf, quickly brushing off accumulating snow and wrapping it so it covers his neck and lower face.
Finally settled he takes a moment to observe his surroundings, eyes filling with desperation and dread as he takes in the endless and undisturbed white wasteland that seems to stretch infinitely in every direction. While behind him lay a cruel looking mountain, covered in twisted jagged rocks that look more akin to spikes than stones.
‘By god, where am I? Where is everyone? How am I still alive...?’ he thinks to himself, desperately seeking a single thread of... anything to cling to.
Anything aside from the snow and the rock.
After several moments of standing still he grits his teeth, spinning once more towards the mountain range behind him.
“Anywhere else is better than white hellscape, I suppose...” he grumbles to himself, voice barley above a whisper.
Grabbing his old AK-47 from the ground and slinging it over his chest for easy access he starts to head towards the mountains.
Almost in a daze he takes the first few steps, slowly at first and on wobbly legs before the blood begins to circulate again and allows him to resume a rapid pace.
‘The alarms... even the Americans stopped firing their artillery. Am I dead? Is this a purgatory for those that have killed?’
He grimaces to himself at the thought.
Pausing for a moment to gaze at his reflection in a nearby formation of ice he sighs at the man that stares back.
A poorly kept goatee with shaggy brown hair and his eyes... his mother had once told him that the eyes were the gateway to the soul and in his green eyes he saw only pain.
Frowning and turning away he continues to walk, pushing the thoughts that troubled him to the rear of his mind.
‘Survival comes first.’
For hours he walked, the cold’s relentless assault continuing to slowly batter away at his senses. Rock after jagged rock he passed, in the faint hope that he would find some sort of shelter to survive the day.
He didn’t want to think about the night.
Pausing for a moment he takes out his canteen, unscrewing the lid and scowling at the contents.
‘Frozen solid.’
With a sigh he returns it to his belt, returning his eyes, and feet to the path before him.
Dimitri continues on in a similar fashion for another two hours, scowling at his surroundings, grumbling to himself and doing anything to not think about the cold. His army issue rags being barely enough to keep him from freezing to death, but hardly enough to keep him comfortable.
After a few more minutes he spots a small side path, looking more closely he spots the faint trace of bootprints in the snow. Hope starting to fill his body he takes off along the side path, making sure to maintain careful footing though.
It’d be a shame to trip and die so close to rescue after all.
The crunch of snow and his own heavy breathing are what greets him as he arrives at the end of the path.
An opening in the side of the mountain, large enough to fit three men standing abreast and the boot prints lead inside!
Dimitri makes to enter before he pauses.
‘Just to be safe...’ he thinks, while unslinging and readying his AK, checking the contents of the currently loaded magazine.
‘Full.’
He grins and cautiously enters the cave, the falling sun at the correct angle to light up at least the first few feet.
After a few more hesitant steps he removes the flashlight generously provided to he and all similar to him in profession by the ‘generous’ Soviet government.
After two failed attempts to turn the damned thing on he finally smashes it against a nearby wall, grinning as a flickering light begins to be projected.
‘Nothing like Soviet engineering.’
Slowly he pushes deeper into the cave, following the boot prints that have been left on the dusty and snow covered floor.
Eventually he comes to an intersection, frowning as the bootprints lead down both paths.
‘Well, as they say. Right is Right.’ he thinks, letting out a half hearted chuckle and heading down the mentally designated passageway.
Another five minutes of walking pass as the walls seem to close in further and further, the young Russian starting to have regrets about his decision.
Almost on the verge of turning and trying the other way the tunnel abruptly ends. Instead of endless grey rock his visions is filled with a large entrance leading into a cavern with a ceiling that reaches so high he cant see the end of it.
Eyes focused on the trail he finally finds the end of the prints, dread filling his heart as he spots a worn boot. Slowly his eyes travel up the rest of the figure. Torn white fatigues with a shoulder patch emblazoned with a worn American flag. A dead mans eyes wide open in surprise at some unknown terror and three gaping bullet holes in his chest.
Dimitri stumbles back, raising his rifle for a few seconds before scolding himself and lowering it again.
“I suppose...” he mutters to himself, scowling as he approaches the body.
He grabs one of the fallen mans boots, tugging on it for a few moments before the boot finally comes loose.
“Close enough to fit... thank you for your kind donation, comrade.” he says as he removes his own poor quality and ill fitting boots and dons the fallen soldiers instead.
Dimitri grins, his feet already feeling leagues better after being freed from the crushing tomb known as ‘surplus’ footwear.
He goes to strip off the fallen mans canteen and backpack as well, before he freezes a dreadful and familiar sound filling his ears.
