A.N: For the sake of fan service, looks like Olga needs some time with her late brother! Why not some heavenly guidance?

As she slept, Olga had a strange experience. She found herself in a vast throne room with columns, walls, and decorations of a pearly white material. On the carnelian throne, a glowing human-shaped silhouette quietly sat, wearing robes of white and gold. Olga froze still as soon as she realized where she was. A pool of what appeared to be a transparent, crystalline fluid rippled in front of the throne. Winged humanoid figures dressed in simple robes of a flowing white fabric sung praises at the figure on the throne. Although the figure did not show any movement, a voice could be heard.

"Hello, Olga Nikolaevna Romanova." the voice said.

Olga looked down at herself, and she saw that she was glowing a dark blue. Streaks of darkness were embedded in her spiritual body, contrasting against the simple white robe she wore. She trembled in fear, unable to take a step forward or backward. The enthroned figure spoke again.

"Do not be afraid, child. You are here for a reason. I am sure that you are confused as to why you are here, but I will explain why. There is someone who you will see."

Another human figure appeared from a flash of light, and Olga could see that he was a young boy of no more than eight years old. His eyes were the same Romanov blue, and his neatly combed hair was a light brown. He smiled with joy etched on his face upon spotting Olga, and he ran towards her.

"Sister, sister!" the boy cried out, as he ran towards her.

"Alexei? Is that you?"

"Yes, sister, I am home."

Olga outstretched her arms to the soul of her younger brother. Alexei stopped his pace before tightly embracing his oldest sister. A feeling of a familiar warmth spread through them, and they glowed a light pink. Despite being separated by death, both sister and brother were bound by familial love. She released her brother.

"Father told me to keep you company, he will bring us somewhere." Alexei said.

"Where?" Olga asked, wearing a confused expression.

"A possibility, dear child, a possibility. Remember that to avert what could happen, you must fight hatred with love..." the voice spoke.

Olga found herself in a dimly lit basement, looking at a group of uniformed men facing a family of seven. Looking closely at the uniforms, Olga could see the symbol of the Bolsheviks: a hammer and sickle insignia woven with red fabric. Looking at the family, Olga gasped. She could see the familiar faces of her parents and sisters including herself, but they were older, paler, and thinner. Dressed in only simple civilian clothing, the Romanovs looked like commoners rather than royalty.

A man with a brown, curly beard stepped forward before taking out a note from his pocket. He read it aloud, punctuating the tense silence within the small cellar. A name flashed in the mind of Olga's soul: Yakov Yurovsky.

In view of the fact that your relatives have continued their attack on Soviet Russia and the significance of yourselves as political figures, all of you are to be executed," Yakov coldly said.

"What? What?" Nicholas said in confusion.

"This, Romanov scum!" Yakov said, pulling a pistol out from his pocket.

With a loud blast, the .22 caliber pistol embedded a slug of metal into the chest of the former Tsar, who spluttered and collapsed into the floor. The four former Grand Duchesses screamed in terror, backing against the wall. The gruesome sight of the Tsar bleeding on the ground and choking on his blood frightened Alexandra. She trembled in fear as she watched another lethal round of bullets embed themselves in the body of her husband. The former Tsar finally laid still on the ground in blood spattered clothing.

"Fire, fire!" Yakov yelled at his comrades, gesturing to the Tsarina and Grand Duchesses.

The men brandished their pistols and began firing, as the cellar was filled with the deafening noise of blasts. Even the truck engine idling outside the house could not silence the commotion. The Tsarina fell from a headshot, slumping on the floor beside her husband. Olga watched her future self cross herself before being shot in the hand, and other bullets ricocheted off her jewel-filled corset. Moaning in agony, the other Olga twitched on the floor before Yakov pointed his pistol at her head. Looking up, the eldest Grand Duchess wore a face contorted in fright. Another staccato of bangs filled the air, as Yakov and his men fired their pistols. Olga watched her other self die in a gruesome manner, as the bullets made mincemeat of her head. Her sister Tatiana screamed and tears flowed down her cheeks, as she fell onto the floor. Yakov finished her off with another headshot, and the second Grand Duchess fell silent. Only the Little Pair were left, huddling in the corner and screaming. Yakov smiled. He was enjoying this. He ordered a few guards to hold the sisters down, and they did so without hesitation. A black-haired guard grinned as he stepped toward the girls.

"It is a shame... that such beauties like you can only be used once," the guard said.

"No, please!" Maria said in fright, as the guard pulled her skirt off.

Olga closed her eyes as soon as the guard pulled down his pants. She could not watch any longer, and she turned back to the soul of her brother.

"I cannot believe that some people hate us that much!" she said, feeling tears roll down her translucent cheeks.

"It is sad to know, but it is true. They do hate our family that much," Alexei said, looking away from the graphic scene.

"Why am I being shown this?"

"Because you must know what could happen to understand how to stop it."

The scene changed, and Olga and Alexei watched Soviet guards bark orders at prisoners dressed in rags. They came across a limping prisoner, and they beat him with the butts of their rifles.

"What kind of terrible place is this?" Olga asked, placing a hand over her mouth.

"It is a gulag, a place where people in prison work for the Bolsheviks," Alexei spoke.

Another cry of pain could be heard from the frail prisoner as a guard kicked him in the ribs. He collapsed on the ground, unmoving. Olga could only watch with a horrified face as the guards dragged him away to a secluded place behind a cabin. Without a hint of hesitation, both guards shot him in the head.

"Our people, they suffer so much in the future," Olga said, feeling great despair.

"It's not the future, Olya, as long as someone does something about it."

"But how? How can these things to come, these tragedies, be averted?"

"Through love, sister. Before you wake up, I must say something."

"What is it?"

"Evil will only increase in the earthly world. Only love can beat evil."


April 28, 1912

Olga awoke with a gasp, sitting upright in her bed. She looked around her cabin, feeling confused about her whereabouts until she realized that she was only dreaming. She shuddered at the memory of her vision, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. It had seemed so real.

She looked around the cabin again, as her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the moonlight. Silvery rays of moonlight illuminated the ruffled covers of the cabin beds and the form of her sleeping sisters. The sound of waves could be heard, and rain pattered on the roof of the ship. Still, the sisters did not stir. They were deep in their slumber, softly snoring. Olga groaned when she looked at the clock within the cabin. It was only three in the morning, and she had been disturbed from her much needed rest. She laid back down in her bunk bed. Her breathing fell into the slow rhythm of sleep, but her mind was still awake. After another hour of failed attempts to sleep, she got out of bed again. There was much to settle in her mind, and she gave up all hope of sleeping.

Dressing into her thick, rainproof clothing for the weather, Olga looked outside the small cabin window. A thunderbolt flashed in the distance. Seconds later, the thunder sounded. Anastasia mumbled and turned under the bed covers of her bunk, but she remained asleep. The others did not stir, continuing to softly snore. She felt certain that none of her sisters would notice her brief absence from the cabin, as they were asleep.

Opening the door, Olga was met by the salty Mediterranean wind and the rain that splattered on her raincoat. She closed the door behind her before walking under the shades of the deck towards the front areas of the deck. Thunder boomed again, and the wind whistled around her. She approached the bridge, where two officers in their white uniforms conversed. Captain Zelenetsky, a well-built man with brown hair, manned the wheel. Alongside the captain, the Tsar in his naval uniform could be seen looking outside the right window. It was a normal habit for Nicholas the Second to rise early in the morning and check the weather. Before Olga could hide behind a large exhaust pipe, her father stepped outside the bridge and spotted her.

"Olga! What are you doing up this early?" the Tsar sternly asked.

"I-"

"The weather is getting rough. You should stay inside your cabin."

"I could not sleep, Papa. I had a disturbing dream..."

After considering her words, Nicholas answered. "Oh, I see. Fine, you may stay with me, but do not go outside for too long."

Olga stepped inside the bridge along with her father. The captain welcomed the pair with a brief smile. He turned back to the front of the ship and manned its controls again, regaining his stoic expression. Zelensky was a man who took his duty seriously, and he stubbornly followed protocols and procedures. Off duty, he enjoyed socializing with the crew and the royal family. At the moment, he focused on his task at hand: getting the Standart to Livadia.

One of the two officers stopped his conversation with his peer. He turned around with his same charming smile, and Olga looked away before her father could take notice. It was good to see her love again, but she could not allow her affections for the officer to show. If she did, her father would disapprove and transfer Pavel away to another ship. She was a Grand Duchess, and Pavel was only one out of thousands of junior officers. A relationship between the two would be improbable, if not impossible.

Pavel turned away, and his fellow officer, Viktor, looked at him with pity. Viktor looked at Pavel with his dark brown eyes, feeling pity for his friend. He understood that his fellow naval officer had a crush on the eldest Grand Duchess. A week had passed, and the small flirtations from Olga had only increased the feelings that Pavel had. He did not know what Olga thought or felt about Pavel, but he knew that they could not be together. He tapped his friend on the shoulder and gestured for him to go outside. Pavel hesitated for a few seconds before following his friend outside. They retreated under the shades to find some cover from the rain.

"I see the way that you look at that young woman, Pasha. The Tsar's eldest daughter!" Viktor exclaimed.

"I know we cannot be together, old friend, but I distantly recall the first time I saw her as a little child. Since that day, I have often been thinking of her, and now... I feel something for her. Her sharp wit and her inner fire attract me, and the way those blue eyes crinkle when she laughs..." Pavel quietly spoke, looking out at the rough waters of the Mediterranean Sea.

"You should be careful. The Tsar and Tsarina are protective of their children, and they would be shocked if they found out about your budding romance with Grand Duchess Olga."

"Yes, you are right. But it is hard for me to imagine living my life without her. I must be falling for her. I can only wonder if she feels the same."

"That is love, Pasha. The romantic kind."

While Pavel and Viktor watched the escorting vessels at some distance, Olga and her father sat in the bridge. Nicholas watched the captain and the flag captain Nikov discuss the direction of the yacht. Olga sat beside her father for some time, and she heard the captain exclaim.

"I have spotted land!" the captain exclaimed.

"Shall we notify the escorting cruisers? The waters might be shallow with hidden rocks."

"Absolutely. Tell the navigation officer Sergey to send a message from the radio."

"Yes, sir."


An Inn at Livadia

"The time has come, comrades. Our trip has taken a week, passing through a tangle of roads to get here... but it will all pay off," Mikhal Vaganov stated, watching the five suited men wear their smug smiles.

"The Romanovs, are they arriving soon?" one auburn-haired man asked.

"Yes, according to our sources, they will arrive tomorrow. I am not surprised that some ship officers in the Imperial Navy are not paid much. After all, the royal family hoard their money rather than paying their serving soldiers enough. However, that has worked for our benefit, as I have bribed a sympathetic officer on the Standart."

The man gasped in disbelief. "The Standart? That is the royal yacht! All members of its staff must be incredibly loyal to the Tsar in order to even be there!"

"Yes, but even some officers have trouble paying for their families back at home, even with their pay. I have bribed Officer Viktor, whom I have met at the Petrov Bar. He is quite sympathetic to our cause."

Silence filled the inn room. All of the men in their casual civilian disguises considered the words of their leader, some scratching their heads. Mikhal wore a grim smile, and he rubbed his hands. He gestured to the table, where a few cups of coffee steamed. The men picked their cups and savored the warm coffee drinks. For the meantime, the caffeinated drink would keep them awake at three in the morning. If their minds were still dulled by sleepiness, they could never plan a successful assassination.

"Yakov Yurovsky, I admire you for your zeal for the Bolshevik cause. When we finish planning the raid, you will have the honor of killing the Tsar," Mikhal said.

"Yes, Comrade Mikhal!" a brunette, bearded man said, saluting.

"Alexander Bagov. You will have the honor of killing the Tsarina," Mikhal said, facing the auburn-haired man.

"It would be my utmost pleasure, Comrade Mikhal!" Alexander said.

"We will all begin planning the assassination now! Time is ticking, but I believe that we all can achieve this. Russia will soon be free of the tyranny of the Romanovs, forever!"