Once upon a time, there was a sovereign Russia that was one of the greatest powers that commanded the world's attention. Then it cracked under the weight of repression and revolution. The nobility fled the country or hid underneath the watchful eye of its secret police. Those who were unlucky had found themselves sharing the fate of the royal family. As the world tore itself to sunder underneath a black sun, so did Russia.

When the world found itself trampled underneath the black boot of the rising fascist powers, Russia fractured into bickering states. Authorities of the Soviet Union tried to maintain order and some were desperate for power that they found themselves at war with their fellow comrade. Others chose a different path, seeking help from outside sources like the exploitive Co-Prosperity Sphere or the welcoming nature of the Organization of Free Nations. There were also those who embraced the devil, becoming the very vile monsters that destroyed their homeland. Out of all these… governments, there was only one man who was unlikely to succeed in a land ruled by warlords and generals.

Fate was a fickle creature that could be a cruel mistress or a master of irony. No better example of this than Mikhail II, the Tsar of Russia. Well, if anyone wanted to be technical, he had no legitimacy of claiming the title of emperor thanks to the morganatic marriage of his parents. Yet, the old White Army generals who kidnapped him cared little for these facts as long as there was some hint of legitimacy for their selfish actions. Ripped away from freedom and distant from his father and his family in Australia, Mikhail found himself in despair that his life would never get better.

Everything changed when the imperial government in Chita succeeded in eliminating its opposition. The backing of the Japanese helped in their efforts and the companies of American mercenaries found themselves fighting for a new employer. Mikhail found himself rescued by allies who sought out to rightfully put back their tsar where he should be. Those who wronged him had found themselves being robbed of ruling Russia after their actions in Harbin. Then it was at this point that the man found himself at a crossroads few ever find. There was a slight chance to back down and return back to Australia; however, his years of imprisonment in Chita had made Mikhail finally connect with a people he once despised.

A wrong had to be put right and a legacy had to be reclaimed. Russia had to be united once more. Powerful individuals such as the Father or Karbyshev's Black League stood against this newfound strength in the bloodline of emperors. White Army forces slowly expanded westward from the east coast, enduring the harsh weathers that their homeland brought forth. Yet, the greatest test to Mikhail's rule was a longtime enemy that haunted the Romanovs until now.

The West Russian Revolutionary Front was the last trace of the Soviet Union held together by Zhukov and those who sided with him. A climactic struggle for the fate of Russia was on the world stage to watch as the Third Reich descended into the anarchy of their civil war and while the United States checked who would deserve a chance to become an ally. A massive frontline erupted between the borders of these two competing legacies. One-by-one, towns and cities fell to the advancing White Army forces.

Tanks and armored personnel carriers drove forward into the capital of their foe, Arkhangelsk. Jets flew overhead, dropping their payload upon the defenses before they fled the airspace with anti-aircraft gunfire chasing after them. Rockets and high explosive shells flew overhead as the troops dismounted their vehicles and supported their tanks into the breaches.

Gleb was one of the first men to storm the positions with a Kalashnikov in hand. His squad proceeded to assault a bunker that was being suppressed by friendly vehicles before they closed the distance. With a grenade in hand, the young man pulled the pin and tossed it into the machine gun port before jumping back and keeping his head low. A loud blast echoed from the bunker as his sergeant ran around the right flank and made his way towards the bunker's exit.

Many of the Whites behind had followed after him as the door slowly opened with a white flag leaning out. Someone shouted from inside. "Don't shoot, we surrender!"

The sergeant stole a glance from Gleb as he nodded his head towards the door. "Corporal, I don't want to."

The young man was quick to reply. "Understood, sir." He made his way into the trench leading into the bunker with his assault rifle in hand. His barrel tapped the steel door as the cries of war continued. "Open up, hands in the air. No weapons!"

"Yes… we're laying down our arms. Comrades, lay down your arms!"

There was a loud mishmash of weaponry landing on the stone bunker as the door slowly opened with a Red Army soldier stepping out as commanded. His face was scarred by the shrapnel that was thrown into the bunker as blood slowly dripped from his uniform.

"Please, spare us a medic." He pleaded.

Gleb looked over his shoulder as his sergeant nodded his head. "Someone fetch the medic, but keep them on guard. Everyone else, continue with the assault."

The ground rumbled as the soldiers watched as the armored fighting vehicles slowly crawled over the trenches with infantry moving at their back. Even the defenses of the front seemed to put little resistance against the forces of the White Army.

There was a sudden change in the air as the night operation found the skies to be changing. The world became bright and a strange feeling washed over the two armies at their final battle for Russia.

News reached the emperor about a strange blinding light that affected all of Russia in a single moment. Tsar Mikhail II was not concerned about these rumors, but what had surprised him was the shift in the rest of the world. The contacts Imperial Russia had with Japan and the United States were gone and the information beyond their borders had ceased to come in. He knew not of the causes; however, he hoped it was just a simple mishap in communications.

The door to his office was opened wide open as his trusted advisors entered the room. His head of state and three ministers had been with them to support the overthrow of Boris Shepunov and his military leadership. "Can anybody tell me what happened that night?"

General Dimitry Volkoganov spoke first. "I am sure that Anatoly has more on that, but we are here to officially announce the defeat of the Red Army once and for all."

"That is absolutely wonderful," Mikhail expelled a sigh of relief at the news. They were able to end the dark era of Russia for good. "Nikolay, do we have any response from the Red leadership?"

The foreign minister that was Nikolay Uhktomsky stepped forward from the doorway since he was the farthest from the tsar. "Yes, sire. Zhukov has finally surrendered to our forces in the midst of the assault on Arkhangelsk," His eyes glanced at the head of the government, "Mr. Sobchak, I think we mention the issue about the lights."

"Anatoly, is there an issue about that light over all of Russia?"

The advisors exchanged glances as the relatively young government official spoke the truth. "Your majesty, we are receiving reports that the nations at our borders are no longer there."

He was perplexed by the news. "Excuse me, Mr. Sobchak? Pardon me if I do not understand the situation."

"Something happened to everything around us, sir. The only exception to this is the German-occupied territories of the fatherland."

Then his eyes focused on the economist in the room. "Mr. Abaza, do you have anything to add?"

Alexey Abaza was quiet for a time. "All trade has been cut off, sire. I believe that this sudden light that has befallen on our country has separated us from the rest of the world economy."

"What kind of setback are we talking about?"

"The economy would plummet; however, due to the considerable efforts to the imperial corporations, we might sustain ourselves for the time being," He answered, "The positive aspect of this is the lack of talking to the Japanese. We do not have to pay our debts in full. Yet, it will hamper our nuclear developments for the time being."

Perhaps the greatest concern was now about the citizens of the country. Tsar Mikhail looked to Sobchak with worry. "What of the situation amongst the public?"

"They are worried, sire," Came his response, "Not even the regional officials have a response to the matter."

"I will have to address that soon."

Now that the revelations were over, plans had to be devised to respond to this ever-changing situation. After all, Mikhail was used to the situation the moment some old men took him by force. The first that needed to handle was damage control.

He turned towards the security minister. "General Volkoganov, shore up defenses against the Germans and declare martial law. We cannot allow the hard work of Russia to end up like the Soviet Union."

"As you command." He acknowledged his sovereign.

Then he looked at the two necessary advisors for the public. "Sobchak, Abaza, we need some kind of plan for the corporations and the citizen to be assured the economy and the rest of the nation will not implode on itself."

The economy minister nodded his head. "We will do what we can."

Ukhtomsky was the last person to receive an order from his emperor. "Nikolay, we need to find out what has happened beyond our borders."

"I understand," Said the foreign minister, "What we find might not be to our liking?"

Mikhail chuckled. "Gentlemen, we live in a world full of fascists and communists. What could be worse than that?"

Author's Note: So I have been playing TNO and Old World Blues every now and then, trying to come up with a coherent storyline to work with. Now that has come to fruition. I am still working on some of the other fics like From The Shadows Redux and Mojave Roulette Redux. I just want to see how people would react to this.