Platoon Leader Sergey’s voice tore through the air like a jagged blade. At his coarse, urgent shout, the soldiers reluctantly pulled their gazes away from the sky and began to move. Once everyone was gathered inside, Sergey began to read out the instructions from High Command, his face set like stone.
“What I am about to deliver is a direct order from the President.”
The air in the situation room turned heavy in an instant.
“The aerial crafts we are currently witnessing are to be treated as hostile forces. Given that our forces have been dominating this war, High Command has concluded that these objects—appearing immediately after Kelensky’s mercenary announcement—cannot be friendly. In fact, they are likely on the side of the U-forces.”
Sergey paused, his eyes scanning the soldiers.
“We do not negotiate. That massive holographic message claiming the war is over and telling us to withdraw—that is a provocation intended to break our will to fight. Our army does not suffer defeat.”
His voice grew firmer, colder.
“Therefore, we identify these crafts as enemies. Our platoon will advance to the base of the craft to perform a reconnaissance mission. Full gear on. Prepare for immediate deployment.”
After a brief silence, Sergey added:
“Oh, one more thing. No digital equipment is to be carried.”
A murmur rippled through the room.
“Sir,” someone asked cautiously. “What do you mean by... no digital equipment?”
Sergey’s expression hardened even further.
“A severe problem has already occurred. Since those crafts appeared, every digital device in our military has ceased to function. Monitors, semiconductor equipment, the internet, Bluetooth—everything has been neutralized. Fighter jets, tanks, surface-to-air missiles, even thermal-guided missiles. All of them.”
He let out a low, heavy sigh.
“My assessment is that it’s a hack. All we have left are analog tools. Rifles and old-fashioned hardware. That’s it.”
His conclusion was short and decisive.
“Now, grab your gear and move out.”
Vadim quietly packed his equipment. A rifle and a 90s-style grenade launcher. He donned his helmet and slung his pack over his shoulder. Just as he was about to leave the barracks—
A vibration echoed from inside his locker. It was the sound of a text notification.
Driven by instinct, he yanked open the locker to check the screen. Vadim’s breath hitched.
His heart gave a slight, but unmistakable, quiver.
[ Hi Vadim. How are you? It’s me, Natasha. Surprised to hear from me after all this time, haha? Give me a call when you have a chance. You know I’m a journalist now... ]
Why now?
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Why at this exact moment?
Then, Sergey’s voice thundered from outside again.
“Get out here! Mount the APCs!”
Clutching the phone, Vadim stared at the screen for a moment longer before slowly closing the locker.
Then, as if nothing had happened, he headed toward the battlefield.
—--------------
As the APCs surged forward in unison, plumes of dust exploded from both sides of the road, thick enough to blur the vision. Amidst the swirling grit, Vadim’s unit designated one of the crafts as their target.
They didn’t approach any closer by vehicle. The order was given to disembark and proceed on foot to a point where the underbelly of the craft was visible.
The frontline was eerily quiet.
Since the arrival of the spacecraft, the constant roar of gunfire had vanished, and no movement from the U-forces was detected. Intelligence suggested they weren't even launching drones. It was as if the U-forces had already decided the war was over.
Perhaps because of that, the soldiers’ vigilance was slacker than usual.
Right now, the enemy wasn't the U-forces.
It was those things suspended in the sky.
As they drew closer to the craft, soldiers from other units came into view. Vadim raised his binoculars to identify them.
It was the NK unit.
They, too, seemed to have agreed to scout this anomaly. Driven by the same purpose, they faced each other in the same heavy silence.
Even when they reached the area directly beneath the craft, the vessel showed no reaction. No warnings. No movement.
Vadim tilted his head back, studying the craft intensely. At the very center of its underbelly—right in the middle—
A massive, blindingly brilliant silver sphere was floating.
In that instant, Vadim’s heart sank.
A memory flashed through his mind like a bolt of lightning.
Light was radiating in every direction from the silver sphere. The light seemed to solidify in the air, forming gargantuan letters beneath the sphere.
A thought struck Vadim.
What if it was all an illusion created by a single silver sphere?
But he couldn't be certain.
Then—
Suddenly, another unit in the distance began firing toward the sky. As the gunshots echoed, it acted as a signal. Every soldier in the vicinity began firing upward in unison.
The NK soldiers on the opposite side were also shooting at the sky.
Vadim frowned as he watched. It felt like a meaningless gesture. There was no way bullets would reach that craft.
But what bothered him most was—
The fact that the craft had done absolutely nothing.
A sting of guilt pricked his conscience.
Just then, Platoon Leader Sergey’s voice roared out.
“Everyone, assemble! We’re establishing a defensive position here! Observe the craft's movements! Hold this position until further orders from High Command!”
Vadim glanced at the NK soldiers setting up their own position on the opposite side, then pulled his binoculars from his gear. He scanned the perimeter.
Still no movement from the U-forces. The gunfire had mostly died down. A deathly silence descended upon the front.
Occasionally, someone would fire a single shot toward the sky. It looked as if they were trying to pick a fight with the spacecraft.
Vadim peered through his binoculars at the NK soldiers. So many young faces. They looked barely twenty. They were small in stature, but their movements were agile and sharp.
Whenever he looked at them, Vadim felt an inexplicable sense of pity.
Before that thought could even finish, someone came sharply into focus through the lenses.
Vadim gasped.
That NK soldier was the very man who had treated his wounds in the optical shop.
But what was more shocking— Was the fact that the man was looking right at Vadim.
Though they were at a distance where he shouldn't have been able to see him, he was staring precisely at Vadim.
The man wore a mischievous grin. He pulled his right fist to his chest, posing as if to say, "Good Luck!"
Vadim increased the magnification of his binoculars to see the man's face more clearly. The man was saying something. The sound didn't carry, but the lip movements were unmistakable.
Then, with one hand, he pointed toward the sky.
Vadim looked up. The massive sentence floating beneath the craft had changed.
〈 16:00 RED SQUARE 〉
Vadim understood instantly. The heart of the capital. The place where the President was.
It meant the crafts were heading there.
At that moment, Sergey’s shout rang out again.
“Fall in! We’re returning to base! New orders from High Command!”
His voice was trembling.
“The capital... the capital is in danger.”
The battlefield began to move once more.