Chapter 5
On a bright morning, Alice woke up from her slumber. She stretched her arms.
Downstairs, she looked at the desk to see a Full English Breakfast on the table. She took the cup of coffee in hand. A gramophone was playing an old 1940 café song (Lili Marleen). The day was rather bright. She sat down on the wooden table and grabbed a Pravda newspaper, "22 August 1945 — price of milk and bread up by 2 rubles", "War in Europe reaches a feverish pitch as the Red Army occupies Berlin".
"Ah, peace at last," Alice sighed, sipping another cup of coffee and continuing to read the daily tabloid. Finally, my wish had come true, I'm enjoying the best of times, back then when the world was simple.
She stood up and went for a walk, coat fastened.
The suburban area was rather peaceful, outside of the houses were children playing and the elderly people sitting down on a table talking and playing bingo. The sun was at its peak right now, she winced looking at it.
"Hey!" a young boy holding a rose and handed it to Alice. His face was red and he ran away back to his friends, who were giggling. Alice just smiled, "thanks."
What a beautiful morning to be alive.
"Attention citizens, lunch is being served at the nearest food centre." Where is the food centre? She can't seem to remember.
"Hey young lady, are you lost?" an old grandma approached her, "mess hall is that way." She pointed towards a line of people in front of a typical 'fish and chips' styled shop. There was already a long line of people there.
"Hey there, my name is Martha, nice to meet you," a young brunette approached Alice and shook hands with her, "you look new, where did you come from?" Where did I come from? Alice contemplated.
"Moscow. I guess," Alice mumbled.
"Ah Moscow! I'm really jealous! It must be really expensive to live there." Alice recounted her life in Moscow, coming from a family of soldiers, and the small details of life there. They had a lively conversation and in no time, they reached the front of the queue. A bearded man with apron asked them, "beef or seafood?"
"Beef please," both Alice and Martha simultaneously replied.
"Here, 2 beef stews," the soup-kitchen man scooped the beef stew and sprinkled them over the potato, "next!"
Alice held the warm stew in her arms and tried it, it was alright.
"So, what do you do?" Both of them sat down in the community park and had a chat.
"I'm not sure to be honest," Alice's head felt unusually muddled.
"Ah, you must be having a bad day, I must be disturbing you," Martha chuckled, embarrassed.
"Nono it's alright," Alice replied, "please stay."
"Thank you," Martha said, "so do you have a family?"
"No, I don't," Alice admitted.
"What? I'm surprised, I am sure someone like you would be married by now," Martha clasped Alice's hands tightly, "Wait, don't tell me he died in the war?"
"No, I never had a partner," Alice replied.
"I see," Martha looked sad for some reason.
"Well, have you heard the news that the war is ending soon? My husband is there and I hope he is well," the woman wept, "it felt like years since I've seen him."
"Sorry to hear that," Alice tried to comfort the woman, "if there is any comfort, I heard that the red army has occupied Berlin, it's a victory."
"What? Where did you hear that? I've just heard that," Martha gripped Alice's hands.
"The newspaper today," Alice replied.
"What? Isn't the latest news on the Red Army counterattacking?" she shouted in a sharp pitch, "when was your newspaper dated?" she pouted.
"Uh, 22nd August 1945," Alice said.
"What? Impossible! Today is the 15th February 1943. Look at this paper!" Martha held up a newspaper up to show it was dated then. Her voice was too loud that the other people overheard the conversation.
"But it's the 15th September 1960," one passerby said.
"You must be mad, it's the 1st of December 1944," another person argued.
The argument became so heated that Martha shouted, "alright, if you insist so much, how about we go to the local police station and ask them?" Murmurs of approval and nods could be heard and seen from the crowd, "alright then let's go!"
Police officer Igor was sitting down in his office when he heard a commotion in the crowd. The office started to be filled with a wave of what seemed like protests. Igor, annoyed at the ruckus they were all causing, knocked on his table with the baton stick and shouted, "please lower your voices, I am working here. If you have requests, one at a time please."
The old granny who Alice encountered the morning before placed her handbag on the desk, bent forwards and promptly asked, "these people must be crazy, they have all their dates wrong, tell them that today is the 19th of July 1950,"
"Ma'am today is the 5th of December 1970, what are you talking about? Are you okay?" Igor looked at the old lady with befuddlement and genuine concern, "Look." He showed her a calendar that has been standing on his desk. "I told you it's 1970!" one man shouted from the crowd.
"Clearly not! Look at this news article," the old lady placed it at the desk, "it's a fresh newspaper that arrived at my home just today, I may be old but I never mistake my memory."
"Madam this is an old newspaper, Stalin has been dead for 20 years now," Igor said.
"No, look at this!" someone slipped by and placed his news article on the table, "22nd December 1991 — Soviet Union is Dissolved."
Igor looked at the newspaper in utter confusion as to what to do. Saying that the USSR has collapsed first and foremost is blasphemy. However, despite both papers being dated 20 years apart, they still look new and mint. Someone must have been pulling a prank, but to do it at this scale…the government should have noticed it by now.
"Hold on, let me reach out the line to the government office," Igor put his hands forward to signal them all to stop. Everyone became silent to pay full attention to the call that was happening. They waited for 1 minute, anticipation building up. 2 minutes, nothing. Then Igor finally said, "I can't reach them. There must be a problem." The crowd goes wild again.
Political officer Anastasia was walking to work on a lovely afternoon when she noticed a ruckus occurring outside the parliament building. She waded her way through the crowd and got through the line of crowd control trooper. They formed a tight barricade with their shields to prevent these people from entering the building. By showing her badge, they made way for her to enter.
When walking inside, she could vaguely hear what the protestors were saying, 'today' and date'. In the hallway, she encountered her colleague Ilya and asked him jokingly, "Ilya, what day is it today?" The conversation ended with both colleagues arguing about the date and the White House erupted into chaos.
A group of military officers in high command including General Zhukov were having a discussion with the engineer department on the topic of mining equipment and placements when one of the young officers rushed into the room and shouted, "Sir it's an emergency. There is mass public unrest in the city of Podmoskovye. The police have been unable to contain the protests. The general secretary has ordered me to forward you this letter." The young man bowed and offered General Zhukov the letter. Then he burst into laughter.
He showed the letter to the other officers who also thought it was funny. In a few seconds, the entire room was laughing.
Zhukov calmed down and said, "anyways, can we all agree that today is Day 4 after the transfer from YGGDRASIL?" Everyone in the room nodded.
"Since this is such an urgent request from the general secretary, I am going to deal with the situation. I would like everyone to continue the discussion without me and come up with a sound plan by the time I arrive. The Tsaritsa expects it done by today," Zhukov gave a serious look to make sure everyone was committed.
"Great. You there, follow me," he called on the young officer who had delivered the message. He gathered a group of 100 soldiers and made his way to the site of the riot.
"Sir, we have arrested the ringleader of the protests, a senile old woman, but the crowd hasn't seemed to disperse. Instead, they seem to be resisting more," a young political officer claimed.
Zhukov could contain the protest by violence, but that appears excessive. On the other hand, he can talk to the crowd but that would lead to more questions and a mass panic, since the Podmoskovye people are not aware of the existence of Yggdrasil. Thus, he made a choice — arrest everyone involved.
Zhukov was busy going through the newspapers that had been collected from the protesters and noticed an article about the dissolution of the USSR. "This is outrageous!" He slammed the table, shocking the military staff and officers. "Bring me the person who owned this article."
A gaunt middle-aged man was then put forth against General of the Army Zhukov, "how did you procure this article?" The man, who was trembling in fear at this point, just shook his head. He did not know where he received it. He only have vague recollections of someone who left this article on the table at his house, before leaving. He guessed it was his son but he hasn't seen his son for a long time. He explained the situation to the general and pled for mercy.
"Interrogate him," Zhukov instructed that he brought to the KGB so that he might spill his secrets.
"I want to talk to the other protestors," Zhukov waved.
"Why did you make a fuss about the date? If the police says it's Monday then it's Monday. Place her back in her cell. Next!"
Zhukov has spent three hours talking to all these people and there seem to be no end to it. 56 suspects and they all reported that the question was first put forth by two young woman, one with brown hair and the other with white hair.
"Sir, we have 2 suspects who match these descriptions, should I bring them in?" an officer asked. Zhukov simply waved and nodded. He was having a bad day. He had an important task to complete but was interrupted in between. He wanted to make the people who started this mess suffer the consequences.
"Bringing them in now!" the door opened and Zhukov, sitting in the podium usually reserved for juries, hit the gavel. The first person that entered was a young lady in her late-20s, who looked incredibly remorseful and fearful. "Sir! I didn't intend for this to happen. Please forgive me!" She fell to the ground as she was being dragged by 2 of the police officers.
The other person was the woman with the white hair, a lady in her early-30s, who remained emotionless and did not say a word as the 2 officers brought her to the defendant seat.
"The trial is now underway. Please state your names."
"Martha Zaitseva," the brunette said.
"…Elena" the white hair woman said after she hesitated.
"Full name?" Zhukov spoke as he wrote down the names.
"Elena Smith," she replied and smiled. The other brunette stared at her with eyes wide open, as if trying to say something.
Zhukov broke his pen after hearing the word 'Smith'. No Russian citizen would name themselves Smith. That was an American name. Is she suggesting that she was a spy? Zhukov's blood was boiling, but he needed to be professional. He did not want to be scolded again by the Tsaritsa for losing his temper. Just thinking about her scares him.
"Alright Martha Zaitseva and Elena… Smith. The case is that of the violent riot that occurred outside the White House today. For both women, the charges are clear: being the mastermind behind the violence, inciting rebellion against the state, and openly slandering the name of the state. Several witnesses have provided sufficient evidence to substantiate the claim. How do the defendants plead?"
"Please let me go, I haven't done anything wrong," the woman wept.
"Madam please answer the question. How do you plead."
"Innocent."
"If you plead guilty, we are willing to reduce the sentence by 5 years from the original 20 years of hard labour. We have enough evidence of your guilt. Will you still plead innocence?"
The brunette bit her lips and clenched her hands, "this is all your fault! You never told me you were an American. You must be an American Spy!" She spat at the white-haired girl with spite.
"Please confirm your final answer Mrs Zaitseva."
"Guilty," her shoulders slumped forwards having accepted her fate. From what her husband used to tell her, there was never a fair trial, it was always better to plead guilty and receive a lighter sentence rather than be accused of lying afterwards and receiving the guilty sentence anyways."
"And Mrs Smith, how do you plead?"
"Innocent!" she smiled.
"You can c-"
"Hahahahaha," Mrs Smith suddenly broke into laughter, "sorry, I couldn't do this anymore." She waved her hands and suddenly she became a different person. Zhukov looked dumbfounded for a second. His mind spun with multiple permutations on why this could have happened and came to a conclusion — she was testing him — but how to react now? He was sweating profusely. He couldn't offend her but if he let this court case slide then it might ruin her plan.
"How dare you-" one of the younger officers pointed towards Mrs Smith only to hear Zhukov banging the gavel once more, "Silence, that includes all of you too." He pointed towards the prosecution table.
"In light of the fact that one of the defendants had pleaded guilty, I shall sentence Mrs Zaitseva to 15 years of penal labour. As for Mrs Smith, since she had stated that she is innocent, we shall not press charges against her." Zhukov's voice boomed.
"What? That isn't fair!" Mrs Zaitseva sobbed.
"Please escort Mrs Zaitseva to her cell," Zhukov said indifferently, "don't test my patience." He warned the brunette lady, which kept her quiet.
"All remaining witnesses, please leave the hall."
As these people leave the courtroom, he could hear some of the political officers argue amongst each other about the sentence. Before anyone could say anything more offensive, Zhukov knelt, "my lady, the Tsaritsa, Alice Pearson."
Whispers amongst the officers became even louder. Some of them realised what was going on and knelt, but others thought that Zhukov had gone mad. Even the word "Tsar" was distasteful amongst the officers who firmly believed in the Soviet cause.
"General Zhukov, what is the meaning of this?" a highly decorated officer who looked rather old stood up.
"My fellow comrades, what is the date today?" Zhukov asked them all.
"General, you can't be seriously asking us that question," one of the political officers stood up, "did she do something to you?" Before the officer could speak another word, the door opened and KGB officers stormed the room, with Agent Bond kneeling down, "my lady."
"Agent Stierlitz, you too!" the decorated officer shouted. The room was filled with gasps and tense anxiety.
"My fellow comrades, let me ask you again, what is the date today?" Zhukov asked them with a serious face.
"The d-date? I mean we don't exactly know, since we all synchronise to different dates, as long as we have the same time, that is okay," the decorated officer had his pride taken a notch and stammered as he spoke.
"If you do not know what date it is, how do you expect to run this nation?" Zhukov's voice reverberated throughout the courtroom.
"The date is simple, it's day 4 since the USSR transferred to a new world." Zhukov said it slow and strongly. While the KGB officers have been filling the room, military officers are now flooding in the room, with guns pointed towards anyone trying to leave or make a mess.
"Now this is better. Thank you, General Zhukov, for making the proper introductions, I'd like to take over now." Alice stepped forwards to the podium and started her speech, "First and foremost, I should state that I have no relation to the Tsar bloodline, the stick ended at Tsar Nicholas II."
"Liar!" one of the political officers unsheathed his pistol, but before he could fire, the KGB swiftly dispatched of him. Everyone became silent after that.
"That was during 1918, the Russian revolution, the origin of our cause, the communist cause towards a utopia future. Now, of course, Stalin took over from Lenin and when Stalin passed away in the 1950s, other leaders took his place — Malenkov, who passed it down to Kruschev, then Brezhnev, and so on, until the last leader dissolved the USSR in 1991 to 15 different states. Note how I refer to this as the past, because it has happened." Even Zhukov was shaking at his boots now.
"This entire place, that we call Podmoskoye, was built by the efforts of people loyal to the Soviet cause, as an underground facility to house Soviet citizens, away from the dangers of the outside world, until the day where it is ideal for us to rise up again. Today is the day every Soviet will get to see the outside world once more. We will show you, but be patient, because the outside world is fraught with dangers you have never faced before."
"This world is not Earth and is neither the YGGDRASIL that some of you may be familiar with." She nodded towards General Zhukov and Agent Bond. "This is uncharted territories and that is all I will say for now. You will understand once you see it."
"General Zhukov, can you give these officers a tour of the Kremlin and show them what lies beyond it?" General Zhukov gave Alice a final salute and left the room with the others.
"Sigh, that was tiring. The Amnesia potion luckily wore off just in time. If it had been longer I would have been in deep trouble." Alice self-commented on the incident. She had gotten drunk the night before and accidentally ingested the potion that gave a random chances of unknown status effects. This was all entirely a coincidence and she wanted to know how it would pan out.
"To accomplish something this grand so efficiently, your intelligence must be unparalleled," Natasha, who appeared from near the corner of the room, commented sarcastically, which made Alice feel rather embarrassed. Oh, why did she have to make Natasha so similar to herself. "Nah it isn't sarcasm, I mean it," Natasha made a sweet smile that seemed genuine for a while but Alice knew better than that. Natasha was sweet and cute, but she, like Alice herself, had a sharp tongue.
Alice wondered whether other players of YGGDRASIL got summoned to this world as well — only time will tell. She was quite worried about the players from Trinity, Seraphim, but the presence of Ainz Ooal Gown gave her a bit of hope. Speaking about Ainz Ooal Gown, Alice winced at the thought of Momonga. He hasn't contacted her for quite some time.
So, this is how unrequited love feels like. God, I can't go on like this forever.
She took the stairs from Podmoskovye to the Kremlin. The cold breeze of nature carried the scent of lavender and rose. It had a calming effect.
Walking through the Red Square at night, she was able to appreciate the vast space she had all to herself – no work colleagues disturbing her, the absence of paperwork, and the complete harmony she felt with outside world at this moment.
"What are you up to master?" Natasha greeted Alice.
"Just gazing at the stars tonight, reflecting on everything I've gone through since we've come to this new world."
Unconsciously, the thick, layered social mask she wore slowly slipped off. The desire to exert control over the world, to control others. All of these slowly faded away.
"When a person dies, does their soul leave their body the moment they die? Or is the soul inherently attached to the physical form?"
"Perhaps both? I think what's important is that you're here with us. Without you…I think the guild would have been lost."
"Thank you. I sometimes dream about travelling far beyond Ea- Midgard, to find a more beautiful world away from the crowd. Strange how I feel calmer more than ever, like I'm truly living for the first time in my life. Away from the judging eyes of the crowd."
"Sometimes a leader must detach herself from the responsibilities, to explore what is important to herself." Natasha said.
"I want to protect the peace inside this new world. Make sure each person has the chance to experience life to the fullest."
I do believe that the problem plaguing most societies back in my old world was stagnation. People clinging on to the old ways. The old must die to give rise to the new.
"An apt statement my master. It's like the story of the Boy and the Tree. When one accepts death as part of life, then the sacrifice of the tree can be viewed to be quite a beautiful sight."
"That's a brilliant metaphor Natasha."
"I wish I can be the tree, just for you master."
"No. I've lived long enough to understand what it's like to live. But you, you have a long journey ahead of you."
One day, I hope you'll one day take over my position.
"I've done a lot of things I regret such as the destruction of the Illa-Ville."
Natasha listened.
"It's funny. How I regret it, but at the same time I know I did it to protect our people. If these people managed to locate the Kremlin, then I would have failed my role as the Tsaritsa."
"However, if I got the chance, I would have done things more diplomatically. Perhaps with less bloodshed." Alice admitted.
Don't try to play the victim here. You know that you wanted to see the world burn Alice. The look of fear and terror in their eyes, how you made them regret disrespecting you; it felt good. Deep inside, you know that this is true. The world is filled with despicable people who lie and cheat and it's suffocating you.
Alice rubbed her temples gently, closing her eyes, to make the voices go away. She knew Natasha would be worried and this wasn't the time to let everything out. Auditory hallucinations are a classical symptom of Schizophrenia. Fuck. What's happening to me?
"Natasha I've been thinking for a while that maybe we should pay Uncle Momonga a visit. How does a trip to Nazarick sound?"