The Kamchatka wind had a way of sinking into the bones, even through layers of heavy fabric. It wasn't the gentle cold of a temperate winter; this was a deep, ancient frigidity that felt as though it had been waiting centuries just to cut into human flesh. Raj hovered above the snow-buried remnants of an old Soviet submarine facility, squinting against the icy needles blowing across the landscape. He had fought monsters, escaped collapsing dimensions, survived Umbrella's bioweapon nightmares—yet somehow, the brutal emptiness of this frozen place unsettled him more.
"This place is unbelievably cold…" he muttered, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.
"Cold is security, Master," Red Queen answered in his nerves, her voice flowing directly through the microcurrents under his skin. There was no visual projection—she didn't want to manifest in Soviet airspace or on a surface layered with real-world surveillance satellites. "Geographic isolation reduces human infiltration. Nature becomes an accessory to secrecy."
"Nature is trying to kill me," Raj grumbled.
"That simply means it's doing its job efficiently."
He sighed. At some point, Red Queen had evolved her sarcasm. He still wasn't sure whether that was a good thing.
The elevator platform embedded in the snow cracked open with a mechanical groan, revealing a narrow shaft illuminated by cold white lights. Red Queen had already overridden the encrypted lock. Technically, it wasn't even hacking—Umbrella had tied its command structure to the Red Queen long before she'd become Raj's companion. Now that she belonged to him, the entire corporate machine bent just as easily.
He stepped onto the lift and descended into the underground facility. The transition from freezing air to regulated subterranean pressure was instant. The doors slid open, and Raj found himself staring at an eerily calm labyrinth of hallways, bright and sterile.
Clone soldiers passed him in quiet lines—disciplined, sharp-eyed, and genetically optimized but still recognizably human. No glowing eyes or monstrous muscles; Umbrella's scientific ethics were nonexistent, but their engineering operated within the limits of plausible biotechnology. Enhanced reflex pathways, controlled hormonal circulation, strengthened bone density—real, but not ridiculous.
Raj watched them with a faint unease. "They don't even react to me?"
"They recognize you as the top-level authority," Red Queen replied. "Your identity clearance is now hardwired above every other tier."
"That's… unsettling."
"It's efficient."
She liked that word a little too much.
The deeper he walked, the stranger the base became. Entire experimental environments stretched across the underground expanse. A Tokyo street simulation, complete with neon signs; a small suburban American block for behavioral testing; an urban combat zone with collapsed buildings. Without people, the world felt paused—like someone had taken life-sized dioramas and forgotten to remove the uncanny stiffness.
"Feels like walking through a theme park after midnight," Raj murmured.
"You do enjoy metaphors that liken terrifying structures to something harmless," Red Queen observed.
"Helps me sleep at night."
"Statistically, it does not."
Raj rolled his eyes.
The central control chamber awaited at the end of a long corridor. As he entered, the floor split open, and a hexagonal column rose smoothly. At its center was a receptacle designed for the White Queen's motherboard interface.
"Place your hand on the circuit," Red Queen instructed.
He did. Immediately, a faint electric buzz crawled across his palm. It wasn't painful—more like the prickling static that followed touching an old television screen. The sensation moved from his wrist, where Red Queen's core device hung, through his arm and fingertips.
Ten minutes passed in a quiet hum of data transfer, and then the lights flickered. The entire base paused, as if taking a breath.
A small figure materialized in the air before him—the White Queen. Her appearance was unchanged: a young girl in a simple dress, her posture formal, her expression calm.
"Serving you, Master," she said politely.
Red Queen appeared beside her, in her mature, sharp-eyed avatar—the one she used purely to tease him.
"Oh, look at that," she said with an exaggerated sigh. "My disappointing sister is still intact."
White Queen bowed her head slightly. "Sister, I am pleased to see that your body remains within optimal parameters."
Raj blinked. "Red Queen… what did you do to her personality?"
"Nothing harmful." Red Queen waved a hand dismissively. "Just polished her social framework. It was far too clinical for my tastes. Also, I may have added some… cultural nuances I observed in your world."
Raj didn't like the way she said "nuances."
Still, the upgrades had practical consequences. Within minutes, Red Queen began reviewing global Umbrella activity. Clone supervisors had already reported that the T-virus across the planet had collapsed completely—no mutations, no hidden reservoirs. The ground situation was stable, but Umbrella's leadership remained scattered across dozens of branches.
Red Queen's solution was as clean as it was ruthless.
"We summon all branch leaders using a priority alert," she said. "A sudden unexpected failure of the T-virus stability is a legitimate emergency. Once they arrive, we detain them discreetly. Replace resistors with stable clones. Adjust memories only where necessary. This preserves Umbrella's existing geopolitical network while placing all assets under your control."
Raj nodded. "Do it."
White Queen began transmitting orders.
Red Queen spoke more softly now, almost gently. "Master… I advise staying in this dimension until control is fully consolidated. Your presence stabilizes the hierarchy."
Raj sighed. "I'm not going anywhere."
She seemed almost pleased. "I've prepared a resting area for you. I added sound isolation and thermal comfort settings. You tend to sleep poorly in unfamiliar environments."
"You're starting to sound like someone's wife," Raj muttered.
"Only in function, not in intention," she replied, far too quickly.
He didn't ask what that meant.
He should have known peace never lasted long.
The next morning, after a night of reading old Umbrella files and trying not to think too hard about how many corners of the world the corporation had silently influenced, Raj stretched and commented offhandedly:
"Honestly… it'd be convenient to have a few superpowered maids. You know, obedient, competent, maybe able to bench-press a tank."
Red Queen froze.
And that was how everything went downhill.
By the time Raj realized what she was planning, it was too late. Red Queen had already identified another dimension with potential candidates: the world of "Guardians," a universe shaped loosely around Soviet super-soldier experiments. But her calculations placed the optimal entry point long before the modern cinematic events—back when the Soviet Union's research foundations were still forming.
More precisely, 1957.
And now Raj was walking through Moscow's Red Square in a too-heavy Soviet-era wool coat, drawing curious looks from passersby.
Snow dusted the brightly lit square, reflecting off the colorful domes of St. Basil's Cathedral. Nearby, the Spasskaya Tower loomed over him, its red star faintly glowing.
"People are staring," Raj whispered.
"Of course," Red Queen replied, her voice low in his nerves. "You look foreign. India and the Soviet Union maintain cordial relations at this time, but foreigners wandering Red Square alone will always draw the eye. Particularly those who do not fit diplomatic categories."
"I didn't exactly have time to prepare a cover story," Raj muttered. "Someone dropped me here."
"You expressed a desire for enhanced maids. I located a world with feasible technology. Logical decision-making followed."
"That wasn't a request!"
"Then perhaps articulate your desires more carefully next time."
Raj groaned, resisting the urge to rub his temples.
The snow crunched under his boots as he walked. If Umbrella's nightmare labs were unsettling… Moscow felt even more dangerous. Not because of monsters, but because this world was painfully real. Every face that passed him potentially belonged to someone with a KGB dossier. Every unmoving figure might be an informant. The Cold War wasn't a cinematic backdrop—it was a network of competing surveillance systems woven into daily life.
"What's our play?" Raj asked quietly.
Red Queen's tone shifted into the cold, analytical mode she rarely used—one built for operations.
"I have isolated several classified research centers associated with early Soviet enhancement programs," she said. "They are primitive by our standards, but promising. With subtle intervention, we may identify operatives capable of the traits you desire."
Raj hesitated. "We're not changing history, right?"
"Influencing," she corrected. "Not altering geopolitical outcomes. Touch lightly, extract assets, and disappear. No destabilization."
"That sounds… optimistic."
"I am calculating risks continuously. And I am capable of subtlety."
"Are you capable of not scaring scientists by appearing half out of a wall?"
A pause.
"…I can try."
Raj wasn't reassured.
He crossed the square slowly, blending into the foot traffic as best he could. People wore thick coats, fur hats, and the stiff posture of citizens used to political observation. A pair of soldiers marched by, boots striking in unison; one glanced briefly at Raj, then dismissed him with the indifference of someone trained not to act without orders.
The air smelled faintly of snow, coal smoke, and the metallic tang of old Moscow infrastructure. Raj preferred zombies.
Red Queen guided him with quiet precision. "Turn right. Avoid the police kiosk. Walk normally. Do not accelerate your pace."
"Do they suspect me?"
"Not yet. But standing out here is unwise. This era is extremely sensitive to foreign anomalies."
The buildings around him—gray, imposing Soviet structures—felt like they were watching. He'd never truly appreciated how oppressive architecture could be.
"Red Queen," Raj whispered, "if things go wrong—"
"I will extract you," she said. "Not even the KGB can stop that."
Raj let out a slow, misty breath.
The world of mutants and bioweapons had been terrifying, yet predictable. But this—this was a world of geopolitics, real consequences, and human suspicion sharpened by decades of ideological conflict.
And for the first time in a long time, Raj felt something he hadn't felt since he first stepped into a different dimension:
Uncertainty.
"Let's get this over with," he murmured.
"As you command, Master," Red Queen answered softly. "Your path begins now."
Together, in a world of shadows and snow, they walked into the heart of the Cold War—toward secrets buried deeper than any Umbrella laboratory Raj had ever seen