World War 2, the unveiling of the atomic bomb. The destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki was the true uncovering of the devastation mankind could cause. The event that ripped apart the curtains exposing the creations of hell that the human mind could spawn. Revealing the possibility of inhumane and eldritch weaponry that should never be wove into reality. The capability of razing an entire populous to nothing but ash and blood. Polluting the very atmosphere, inhibiting life itself. That day a new fear was bred into humanity and left to fester in the minds of the defenceless and innocent, the terror of World War 3. From that day onwards, the end of the world became a possibility. It was this dread and danger that humanity thought that there'd never be a World War again, that every man and women, every world leader would always choose the betterment of humanity's survival. As in the end desire and ambition have no meaning in a world that no longer exists.
How wrong mankind was.
As through their limitless ambition an even greater horror was unveiled.
Chapter 1
Alina remembered it like only a second had passed, the sight was scarred into her very soul.
14th of February 2004. The beginning of the end. World War 3 began and mankind's reign came to an end.
1999, in the farmlands and villages of Russia, far outside of Moscow, Alina Khrav was birthed into the Old World. For five peaceful years Alina enjoyed the beautiful woods and fields, the bright and dazzling night skies, the glistening snow and frost the motherland's winter delivered. Her mother was a teacher at her very primary school and father worked the farm, along with her uncles and cousins. The agricultural land had been in their bloodline for generations and she had once imagined it to remain with them for dozens of generation to come.
It was a serene time, one that she still constantly clings onto decades later. The memories like a holy paradise inside a living hell.
Then on one unsuspecting day it all came to an end. By sheer luck alone the village they called home was far enough away from the bombsites to avoid the direct dangers of the first attack, but … they were close enough to witness it all.
Alina constantly relived the memory, helpless to its horrors, feeling the terrified chill down her spine as jets rocketed over their farm causing the very air to tremble and vaporise. The sight of the bombs plummeting through the sky upon their capital, like angels of death descending to condemn the nation's sins. The eruption of light and power, as if hell's very gates had burst open before them, it was blinding. Utterly terrifying, no being should possess that measure of destruction. It was a power that should've been left to the gods of mythology. To this very day her eyes still burnt remembering those few moments before her younger self-managed to look away, a light so bright even miles away it was as if the sun had teleported directly into Moscow.
Later she'd found out Russia wasn't the only victim of the nuclear ambush. The United Kingdom, Germany, Denmark, Norway, France, China, United States of America, Canda, Mexico, Brazil, Japan, the entire middle east, northern Africa and even more nations had all been split open to their cores. The rest of world soon followed the same fate in the coming days. And still to Alina's knowledge no one truly knows who started World War 3 she just knew how it ended.
25 years after the beginning of the end
200 miles west from the Wasteland that was once Moscow and closing in on what was once the west border of Russia, a small division of the resistance found themselves based in an abandoned ghost town. It was mostly unscathed by artillery fire all those decades ago however, had still decayed to the passing years with no aid of maintenance.
On the top floor of a hospital, or more accurately what had been a hospital, Alina sat at her desk in the room that had been assigned as her quarters. She'd guessed it had once been a doctor or consulting office; the room wasn't big nor grand, but Alina had it to herself which was a privilege many others further down the pecking order of the Legio Libertatis couldn't claim.
As Alina patiently waited for the higher ups to decide the division's next plan of action, she made her way through her incoming transcripts, broadcasts and documents - communications and data from fellow research teams and captains across the country and even the continent- with every transmission an iota of hope hummed deep within her praying today may be the day that life finally is stirred in a different direction, that they might finally be useful once again, be put back on a pathway to achieve their goals. But alas like every week it never came. Instead, she was just met with more deaths, casualties, killings, new mutants roaming the land and overall … fucking dead ends.
With an exhausted and irritated sigh, Alina shut off the radio and communication apparatus and lashed the documents across the desk away from her sight. Her fists began to tightly ball as rage built up within as their helplessness continued to persist but with a deep and long exhale Alina composed herself. She vigorously rubbed her eyes trying to wipe away the exhaustion and pushed long, black strands from her face, her hair filthy and matted from weeks without a proper wash or rest. What'd she'd do to somehow get a supply of heated water transported here, Alina fantasied the idea of a hot bath or shower or even just more than four hours sleep.
A knock on the door snapped her back to reality and Alina straightened herself up in her desk.
"Enter," she stated.
Her second in command of the research team, a fellow Russian who went by Boris, God knows if that was his true name, entered her office carrying a folder marked with the emblem of their division. He was an averagely built man with short brown hair and wore worn, old clothes clearly scavenged and salvaged during their travels across once-Europe. Alina's eyes locked onto the folder, finally the higher ups had finished their petty debates. Maybe the Legio would now finally actually act. Sticking out an open hand her subordinate instantly placed the folder into her grasp. Without another word Boris dismissed himself and vanished from Alina's office leaving her in solitude once again. Drawing the knife strapped to her thigh on the opposite leg to her handgun, she swiftly sliced open the folder's seal and withdrew the document inside. Relaxing back into her rigid chair, Alina's eyes scanned over its contents, and within moments a smile broke through the cold and stoic mask she'd adapted to embody.
'Holy shit.'
Alina strode down the hall, maintaining an unwavering and stoic expression worthy of her station and making sure not to wince as grimy water dripped from cracks in the ceiling and puddled along the ground. The old, crackling light flickered gravely bathing the crumbling concrete and plaster hallway in an ominous, patchy white glow, as the already strained power supply struggled to try and keep the building alight. They'd established bases of operations in worse and more unhygienic conditions before, and Alina had never grown to truly enjoy it, barely able to tolerate it. Most of the worse they'd called home was here in her homeland Russia, or more accurately once-Russia. Ever since the war the concept of countries and nations had died with society and civilisation. Now their names and borders were instead just used either out of habit or to aid the remainder of humanity when traversing the land and keeping track of their position across the continent.
Alina missed the comfort of their central headquarters, which seemed like a distant luxury while settling here, built from the underground metros of their country's least decimated cities.
As she passed by dozens of rooms all assigned to a range of different functions and operations from accommodation to medical bays to storage, Alina kept her eyes off the muck and grime not wanting it to tempt haunting visions from her past. Memories from the beginning of the end, herself and her mother starved and fighting to survive in ram packed, ruined shelters, surrounded by desperation, death and waste. It still left her speechless how far she'd come since then, Alina wondered what her mother would think seeing her daughter partnered with the Legio Libertatis, fighting in attempt to save their doomed world, the same one that had left their family nothing but despair.
Following the contents of the document, Alina traced the numbers of each door and took a right as the corridor split, entering a shorter hall but considerably better maintained area of the hospital, still mostly intact and had even been polished and repaired by the Legio. Alina would expect that this calibre would only be done for the higherups and leaders of her division however, herself and the others had been staying on the floor above. Alina soon found herself stopped in front of a lone door at the end of the hall guarded by two burly men of the Legio.
Unlike the military, the resistance didn't have a true uniform that every soldier and member wore, due to the easy fact that it'd be a waste of already finite resources, instead they commonly just wore whatever they could find and would stitch the Legio Libertatis' emblem to their choice of attire. Their symbol was a white patch portraying two crossed wings bisected by a sword. Like herself the two guards wore the emblem on their upper arms, hers being on sowed into her thick overcoat, the inside layered with wool from the sheep of her old farm. The coat was a memento from the Old World and a gift from her late mother, once belonging to her father.
The two guards stood alert and at attention as she approached and Alina glanced down upon them in acknowledgement, neither of them were small men, but Alina's bloodline had apparently always been graced with height, and her thick heeled, steel capped boots enhanced that aspect of her genetics even further with a few inches, causing her to tower over most in the division.
"Miss Khrav, a warning before you enter. The girl has been … uncooperative with everyone who has attempted to interact with her," the left guard informed, like herself he possessed a thick accent of the motherland.
"Many have used the term rebellious and stubborn," the right guard stated, she believed he was Ukrainian.
"As are most teenage girls," Alina stated amused but not letting it show. "I'm ready, unlock the room."
'Let's see if you truly are my golden egg.'
Without delay the Russian guard unlocked the room and opened the door for Alina to enter. Once inside the door was immediately shut on her heel and Alina heard the sharp click of the guards locking it once again. From a brief glance, Alina had to admit they'd picked what was probably one of the nicest rooms in the building. Although that wasn't saying too much, all it meant was that it was mostly intact. The windows had been completely boarded up with scraps of plaster, rusty steel and wood and the only light source where a few oil lamps scattered around the room, lighting the sole two objects it contained in a warm orange hue. A bed and a desk.
"You're new. Who are you?" a young feminine voice demanded sternly, possessing an accent Aline couldn't pin down. Alina's gaze found itself upon the bed where a young girl was lying down uncaring about Alina's intrusion. Instantly Alina caught site of the chain and shackle on her left wrist restricting the girl to only the spaces of the bed and desk.
'What is the need? Why fear a single girl?' Alina thought, annoyed at the Legio's paranoia once again. But then again, Alina pondered, if they're going through all this effort, it can only mean they think it's true. A small smile formed upon her face as she wandered over and took a seat at the base of the bed.
"Alina. Research team leader of Legio Libertatis, Russian division," she answered, letting the girl's tone slide understanding that being locked in a room with no explanation or context could very easily breed irritation.
"Ooo, a big fish this time, I'm moving up in the world. What do I owe the honour Alina. I've already been prodded and questioned today."
'Prodded?'
"But if my answers weren't sufficient earlier how about this. My name is Renata, I'm fourteen almost fifteen, I was born in Slovakia, have no family or outside relations, it's a Friday in the year 2029 and we're currently in Russia. And no, I'm not a mutant or abomination nor will I become one. Now, unless you're going to let me out so I can go the toilet, piss off," Renata grumbled.
Despite the world's effects in play covering the girl in cuts, bruises and dirt, Renata had retained her youth well, she was a thin girl with big, brown eyes and long, chestnut hair although it definitely needed a wash.
"You speak Russian very well," Alina commented.
"Obviously."
Alina stifled a laugh, remaining stark. "No I'm not here to test you. I'm sure someone here would find that riveting but personally I couldn't give two fucks for all that drivel. I could tell you were human the moment I laid eyes upon you. I'm here on a different agenda, to offer you an opportunity." Renata found Alina's gaze, the girl's interest clearly piqued. "How would you feel about finally getting out of this room?" Alina inquired.
Slowly the girl sat up, a curious but suspicious expression covering her face.
"Finally dropped the attitude have we, brat?" Alina stated, letting a grin break through.
"What do I have to do?" Renata questioned, a raw, desperate hoarseness in the girl's throat.
"Listen and obey my every instruction, Renata, and you'll be just fine," Alina said. This girl was it. It was like a sixth sense had spoken to her since laying eyes upon the stray teen. This girl is the difference Alina needed and no one whether military or any of the damn Legio higher ups was going to take it away.