Au: Well, I still have to say that my English proficiency is not high, so if there are any issues with this translation, please be understanding and overlook them. Also, I am currently feeling quite depressed about writing, so I won't be able to work on this translation too frequently. Since these are translations that were done beforehand, I will be releasing one chapter per day until it catches up with the main storyline. 

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Note: This work is entirely fictional and belongs to the Alternate History genre, utilizing historical characters and events in a fictional context. All content is a product of imagination and does not reflect reality or any political or military stance.

The story contains sensitive elements such as violence, large-scale warfare, tense political conflicts, and alternative historical depictions. It is not suitable for readers under 16 years of age or those who may be psychologically affected.
Continuing to read implies acceptance of all controversial elements within the work.

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September 25, 2020.

Russian Federation, Capital Moscow, Kremlin.

Inside an office, a Russian diplomat is busy sorting through paperwork—his name is Stalin R. Roboknov, 27 years old, currently preparing for a trip to Germany for discussions regarding the Nord Stream 2 pipeline. Germany and its allies have taken unfriendly actions due to Russia's recent military activities near the Caucasus, specifically the elimination of the MIR organization led by Orlov, a notorious terrorist hiding somewhere within the territory.

The reason he has been entrusted with such a delicate mission at just 27 years old is that he graduated from MGIMO—Moscow State Institute of International Relations—where Russia's top diplomatic experts are trained. He was an outstanding student and graduated two years ahead of schedule due to his exceptional abilities in studying international relations, languages, and energy policy.

He is also fluent in English, German, and Chinese. He gained attention for impressing leadership with his essays and projects on national energy strategy.

This has helped him achieve notable accomplishments in energy-related negotiations. Over the past three years, he has participated in a series of small but sensitive negotiations with Central Asian countries, where he demonstrated skill in resolving border and energy disputes.

He was also assigned to work at the embassy in Berlin, where he built a network of relationships that helped resolve a significant trade dispute, benefiting Russia.

However, to achieve such a series of accomplishments, he also needed support from above—Foreign Minister Lavrov—who recognized his talent and facilitated his advancement throughout this time. He is a good mentor but also somewhat strict, especially with those he has high expectations for, and he is no exception. Of course, if it were only for a good mentor, he might not have come this far; a mentor is the best thing anyone could wish for, and he has one—Ikanovih M. Berchivka—whom he considers his only friend. Others may have good relations with him, but they are not as close. Ikanovih was once his senior, and now he is an inseparable friend, always someone he can trust.

His personality is quite humble; despite having more significant achievements than Stalin, he rarely steps forward to handle issues directly and often supports from behind. Stalin must admit that Ikanovih is sharper than him in terms of thinking; he is more pragmatic and sees practical aspects that Stalin does not.

If one were to add more, the two had actually met earlier; they were even neighbors for a long time, as their families had a close relationship because their fathers had been friends for a long time. And during a holiday, it was quite a surprise. Their motivations are also different; for Stalin, it is simply not wanting to be a soldier, while for Ikanovih, it is a desire to contribute to the country, which is very simple and straightforward.

Returning to the present, Stalin has finished preparing everything and is ready to head to the airport at any moment. He leans back, stands up, and leaves the room with a confident demeanor. Walking down the hallway, he feels very excited as it has been a while since he last returned to Hamburg; he misses the atmosphere there immensely. The overwhelming feeling of joy makes him unconsciously close his eyes and accidentally bump into someone at the corner of the hallway.

He is momentarily stunned and opens his eyes wide to see who it is, and to his surprise, it is Ikanovih standing in front of him. Stalin is delighted and greets him: "It's great to see you again after eight months. How have you been? Is everything going well? I wouldn't call if I didn't have confirmation of your health."

Ikanovih takes a long breath and pats Stalin on the shoulder. "I'm fine; you don't need to ask so much. I always know how to keep myself in the best shape."

"Really? What are you doing here?" Stalin asks, looking curiously at Ikanovih.

"Still the same as always—adviser, colleague, and friend," Ikanovih replies briefly, offering a light smile towards his friend.

Stalin nods to indicate he understands, meaning that this trip will be together to handle this important issue. The two quickly leave the Kremlin and head to Sheremetyevo International Airport. On the way, they discuss work issues as well as recent events in Russia and Europe.

"Recently, the workload has increased significantly, leaving me buried in paperwork," Ikanovih complains while enjoying a cigarette. "The MIR organization has been causing chaos in the Far East, making my trips continuously delayed."

"Is it MIR again? What about RIM? Aren't those two groups supposed to be rivals?" Stalin scratches his head, feeling a bit annoyed that these troublesome groups are causing issues at such a critical time. "If that company can't handle the situation, the military will have to step in again!"

"Well, this situation is still manageable," Ikanovih smirks at Stalin. "We still have to face Germany, though."

"Oh come on, it's nothing to worry about," Stalin replies, his expression calm in response to Ikanovih's comment. "As long as we don't harm Germany's interests, we'll be fine."

"Germany is putting quite a bit of pressure on us regarding Nord Stream 2," Stalin continues, his eyes flashing with seriousness. "I've heard their government is under significant pressure from the U.S. and other allies. This isn't going to be simple."

Ikanovih nods, arms crossed. "That's right. We not only have to deal with technical and economic issues, but we also have to face political maneuvering. Moreover, the German media is doing everything they can to tarnish our image."

Stalin lets out a quiet sigh. "I know, the press. But I believe that with the arguments and evidence we have, they won't be able to deny the clear economic benefits this project brings to both sides. We need to approach this issue with flexibility but firmness."

Ikanovih looks at Stalin with confidence. "I know you'll do well, as always. After all, we still have a few allies in the German government. We need to leverage that."

The two arrive at the airport, quickly entering the VIP area of Sheremetyevo, which has been prepared for their special flight. The Russian government's aircraft awaits, with the national emblem prominently displayed on its fuselage. A security team and supporting officials are ready to ensure everything goes smoothly.

As they continue their discussion, the sky suddenly exhibits a strange phenomenon. The sky abruptly turns pitch black, devoid of any light, leaving both men unsure of how to react to this situation. Stalin scans the surroundings, trying to find a source of light, while Ikanovih has already turned on his phone's flashlight, illuminating the ground.

"What the hell is happening?" Stalin wonders, feeling anxious as he is unsure of what is unfolding. The sudden disappearance of daylight leaves him at a loss. Ikanovih remains somewhat calmer but is still unsettled. The previous situation was too abrupt, with no warning.

The ongoing tension leaves both unsure of what to do next. Ikanovih stares at his phone, and at that moment, the airport lights come on, causing their eyes to hurt slightly. Ikanovih assesses the situation and contacts headquarters to get a grasp of what is happening. After a moment, he hangs up and turns to Stalin, saying, "We have orders to return immediately."

"This... this is getting serious," Stalin replies, following Ikanovih back to the Kremlin.

A few hours later, a tense atmosphere envelops a large room where key figures from various ministries are gathered. President Vladimir Putin sits at the head of the table, his expression serious, waiting for all members to arrive. Once everyone is settled, he speaks, his voice deep and authoritative: "As you all know, a very strange event has occurred. I will not reiterate it here as everyone understands what is happening; what I want to say is that 'we are facing an extremely serious event.' Just in these few short hours, we have encountered numerous complications."

Putin continues, his tone sharper. "The telecommunications system has malfunctioned, satellites have been losing orbit continuously, and we have lost ten of them. Fortunately, thanks to the efforts of our personnel and the standby satellites, we have managed to reconnect with the ground. The satellite incident is quite concerning as they lost orbit abruptly without losing connection with the ground control station; it took several minutes before they lost contact, so it is under suspicion."

He pauses for a moment, scanning the room with his gaze, as if trying to understand their feelings. The silence stretches, only the sound of heavy breathing from those present, each feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on them. "I have ordered the armed forces to immediately transition to combat readiness," he states, his tone cold, allowing no room for dissent. "We cannot afford to be caught off guard in this situation. Anything can happen, and we must prepare for the worst."

Valery Gerasimov, Chief of the General Staff, unable to hide his anxiety, speaks up: "This could be a new type of attack from the U.S. We need to deploy defense systems immediately to prevent any threats from entering our territory."

Putin nods but his expression remains unchanged. "We cannot let suspicion paralyze us. Every decision must be made quickly and accurately. I want you to immediately form an investigation team, including experts in cybersecurity and military affairs, to analyze the situation and identify the root cause of this incident. We need information, and we need it now."

His gaze burns with determination, conveying a sense of urgency. "Remember, in these difficult moments, our unity and resolve will determine the fate of the nation. There is no room for panic or hesitation. We must act, and we must act immediately."

The words resonate with the high-ranking officials present, causing their hearts to race. The situation is not only serious but could plunge Russia into a massive security crisis. As if reading their minds, Putin quickly reassures them.

"Calm down," he raises his hand to signal everyone to stop their anxious thoughts, "Even so, it is still too early to draw conclusions, because if this is indeed due to the U.S. and its allies, the early warning systems should have signaled us by now." He continues, looking at each person. "But it has been over seven hours without any signs of an attack, so we need to analyze this carefully."

"Then, Mr. President," one official speaks up. "Can we currently communicate with any country?"

President Putin's eyes light up. "This is the most interesting point," he replies. "We cannot contact any country, but strangely, the Central Asian region can still communicate with us. I have dispatched ambassadors to engage in dialogue with them to understand each other's situations. But before that, we need to address a more pressing issue: we have no way to communicate with the outside world."

One official interjects, offering a hypothesis: "Mr. President, if we cannot communicate with the outside, it may not just be a simple technical failure. There could be some factor affecting global telecommunications. We need to consider the possibility of a large-scale cyberattack, possibly from a force that wants to create chaos."

Putin nods, his expression contemplative. "Indeed. We need to examine all possibilities. I want you to immediately form an investigation team, including cybersecurity experts, to analyze the situation and identify the root cause of this incident." He continues, "In addition, there is the issue at sea... it. How should we phrase it? Strangely alarming. Civilian and military ships that were presumably far from our territory have suddenly appeared in the adjacent waters, and we are still in the process of identifying the location of each ship and bringing them back."

"That is indeed a highly illogical issue; it is impossible for all ships abroad to suddenly appear here, right?"

The person asked anxiously, clearly skeptical of this situation, but seemingly left with no choice but to accept it as reality, which is still hard to believe. Putin understands the feelings of the officials: anxiety, fear, doubt, all are present. However, the current situation has not yet revealed anything noteworthy. At this moment, he needs to devise plans to rectify the situation.

"Alright, first, we need to ensure everything is stable," he speaks, his face serious. "I need everyone's opinions to address domestic issues first, as the public's reaction is quite chaotic, and we will have to explain to the people what is happening and..."

Before he can finish, the door swings open, and an employee from Roscosmos rushes in with a tablet in hand. His face looks panicked, disbelief evident in his eyes, and beads of sweat show he has run at full speed to get here. He takes a deep breath and speaks: "There is a serious incident that everyone needs to see."

He quickly approaches the TV in the corner and connects it to the tablet while still panting. "In the past few hours, across our social networks—VK—there have been continuous posts with the same theme... Here it is."

Video clips appear showing a location that seems to be near the sea but lacks the sandy beaches typical of coastal areas. The employee continues, "This... is the border of Belarus, and this is the Caucasus range or what remains of it."

The entire mountain range now appears unnaturally flattened, and no one can believe what they are seeing, as if they are experiencing an illusion. And the coastline too, everything is being recorded by the public, and it does not unfold as any of the assumptions in the minds of those in the room. While the shock has yet to subside, the employee presents an even more shocking truth with the latest images they have captured from satellites.

"What the hell is this?" someone exclaims, while others, including President Putin, can only remain silent before what is displayed. Russia appears amidst a vast ocean, no longer connected to any other continent. Only a few faint lights indicate that it is Russian territory. The heavy atmosphere is shattered as the employee continues, his tone suggesting he anticipates further shocks.

"And this is just the beginning. This is the image we have obtained from orbit," he switched to the next image, revealing a massive, unfamiliar landmass—one that looked like a cluster of enormous islands. But something was off. Everything appeared strange, alien, and ominous.

The scene kept changing, shifting to an image of... colossal continents never seen before, leaving everyone in the room bewildered and confused. No one could explain what was happening.

He spoke calmly, "The satellites' speed has been adjusted accordingly—approximately 49,920 km/h."

"What does this mean?" Putin asks, his voice calm but laced with deep concern. The prospect of isolation is already dire, but this is far worse. No one could prepare for the answer that is about to come.

"Mr. President," the employee replies, his gaze fixed on Putin, as if he knows that what he is about to say will change everything, "it seems we are not where we belong."

His words ignite a spark in the powder keg of tension. The anxiety that had been simmering now erupts into a raging fire, spreading throughout the room. The initially serious faces now fall into chaos. Some appear frozen, eyes wide, mouths moving but unable to utter a word, unable to believe what they have just heard. Others react more violently. Chairs scrape loudly against the floor, and shouts and slams on the table echo continuously, as if trying to tear apart the previously calm atmosphere. Anger and unease envelop the room, pushing everyone to the brink of an endless argument.

But then, like a sharp blade cutting through the fog of confusion, a commanding voice rings out. "Enough!"

The firm shout carries the weight of a tidal wave, sweeping away all noise. The murmurs and shouts abruptly cease, giving way to an almost absolute silence. All eyes turn to the one who just spoke.

"If this is no longer Earth, we need to adapt immediately. There is no time for panic or pointless debate! Deploy a Tu-214 reconnaissance aircraft to survey the entire surrounding area. I want a detailed report on everything within a 500 km radius before sunrise. Additionally, we need to organize a live broadcast to reassure the public. We cannot let the situation spiral into further panic!"

His decisive words act like a wake-up call, shaking everyone in the room from their stupor and fear. A few hesitant glances are exchanged, but ultimately, they all understand that time is of the essence. They quickly rise, gathering documents, preparing to execute their assigned tasks with an unprecedented sense of urgency.

Outside the room, the situation grows tenser than ever. The citizens in the city are in extreme panic as they notice a bizarre phenomenon: an unusual dawn appearing at 4 AM. Everywhere, phones ring in apartments as people call each other to check if their clocks are malfunctioning. But no matter how they adjust them, the answer remains unchanged. Local police are mobilizing forces to maintain order as crowds begin to gather in the main square, a place that is usually peaceful at this hour.

On national television, TASS begins broadcasting a live program, described as "the most important in modern history." President Vladimir Putin, with a serious expression, appears before millions of anxious viewers. Not only in Russia but also in Central Asian countries, people are listening intently, hoping to find guidance or at least a clear explanation for the current situation.

The surroundings appear normal: a large wooden table, the Russian flag behind him, and the majestic double-headed eagle emblem on the wall. Yet the atmosphere is strangely heavy, as if every word he is about to say carries the weight of determining the future.

"Good morning, citizens of Russia."

His voice is solemn, tinged with fatigue, yet still maintains its inherent authority. "I know this is not the time we usually greet the morning. I also know that, at this moment, everyone has many questions."

He pauses for a moment, as if weighing each word. The entire room is silent. Across the country, millions of families hold their breath, waiting for the revelations to come.

"The truth is... we are no longer on Earth."

Those words drop like a bomb, plunging the entire nation into silence. Not because the people do not believe, but because they need time to process a reality that is overwhelmingly horrific. On screen, the President's expression remains unchanged, his gaze fixed directly at the camera, filled with determination.

"The truth is, we, along with the Central Asian countries, have been transported to another world. This is an unprecedented event in human history. I understand that this may cause confusion and anxiety, but I want you to know that the government is doing everything possible to control the situation. The government system, military forces, judiciary, and essential infrastructure are still functioning normally."

Putin pauses, allowing his initial words to sink in. Then, his tone grows more serious.

"However, we cannot deny the challenges this event presents. International trade activities have been completely disrupted. Supply chains from abroad, especially essential imported goods, are no longer available. This means we will have to rely on what we have—our country's resources, the labor of each individual, and the unity of our entire nation."

He emphasizes, his eyes sharp as he seeks to convey a powerful message to the audience.

"Prepare yourselves for the difficulties ahead. Prices may rise, supplies may dwindle, but I assure you: the government will do everything in its power to maintain stability. We have instructed our military forces to deploy reconnaissance to assess the new environment. Scientists, engineers, and technology experts are working day and night to ensure that essential systems such as electricity, water, and telecommunications remain uninterrupted. Additionally, we are negotiating with Western technology companies, which are also in a similar predicament, to maintain the functionality of critical devices."

The atmosphere feels frozen. Those watching the broadcast from their homes, offices, or factories sense the weight of his every word.

"But above all, I want you to remember one thing. This is not the end. Life goes on. Russia remains Russia—a resilient, strong nation with a history of overcoming countless challenges. We have rebuilt from the ashes after World War II. We have survived the hardships of the 1990s. And this time, we will also prevail, with patience, willpower, and creativity."

Finally, he concludes: "Good morning, citizens of Russia. Stay calm, for this is just the beginning. Together, we will find a way to build a new future."

As the broadcast ends, millions remain transfixed on their screens. They do not immediately rise or speak; instead, they sit in silence, trying to comprehend the current circumstances. Those living in major cities like Moscow or Saint Petersburg begin to worry about food supplies and consumer goods that rely on imports. In rural areas, people realize they may become the backbone of the new economy—providing essential food and resources.

Across the country, stores begin to fill with people rushing to buy supplies, hoarding items like salt, sugar, and cooking oil. Prices in the black market quickly double or even triple. Yet amid the anxiety, some see opportunity. Small businesses start planning to produce goods to replace previously imported products. Young engineers and scientists begin to form groups, seeking ways to create machinery and equipment from available resources.

Nevertheless, concerns about the future loom over society. The transition will not be easy, and everyone understands that the coming days will test the patience and adaptability of each individual in this nation.

...

6:32 AM (Moscow time), September 26, 2020.

The Tu-214R, equipped with advanced reconnaissance sensors, silently takes off from a secret military airfield, the engines roaring, breaking the morning's tranquility. Its destination: southward, toward a vast and unfamiliar continent lying still on the map. No name, no data. It is part of the new world to which Russia and the Central Asian countries have been transported, a place filled with mysteries and potential threats.

Inside the cockpit, the lead pilot, Colonel Sergei Ivanovich, conducts a final check of the parameters. "Radar is operational. The electronic reconnaissance system is collecting data," he states, his voice deep yet decisive. Sergei is a veteran pilot, having flown thousands of hours on post-Soviet intelligence missions, but this mission is entirely different.

Next to him, the co-pilot, Captain Dmitry Sokolov, younger yet equally experienced, stares intently at the display screen. "According to satellite imagery, the area ahead is mostly forest and mountains. No signs of cities or large infrastructure," Dmitry observes.

Sergei furrows his brow. "If there are no signs of modern civilization, we at least need to understand the ecosystem and geography of the area. Remember, every piece of information is valuable."

The aircraft continues its journey, maintaining an altitude of 10,000 meters. The Tu-214R's optical-electronic sensors and ground radar begin to work, scanning every stretch of land below. The images transmitted reveal a pristine scene: a winding coastline, dense tropical forests, and large rivers flowing through the plains.

After nearly an hour of flight, the southern coastline becomes clearer, stretching endlessly beneath the sun. "No ships in the nearby waters," Dmitry reports. "Also, no signs of ports or large settlements."

"Fly along the coast for another 50 km. If we still see nothing, we will change course inland," Sergei commands. He does not want to overlook any detail.

The aircraft smoothly adjusts its course, flying closer to the land. The dense forests below seem to stretch on forever, an endless sea of green interspersed with a few small clearings. "We may be facing an untouched land. This will facilitate research, but it could also harbor unpredictable threats," Dmitry voices, his tone cautious.

After another hour of flight, they discover a large river, its waters rushing powerfully, like the main artery of the region. Sergei decides to lower the altitude for a closer look. "Bring the aircraft down to 5,000 meters. We need detailed images of this area," he instructs.

As the aircraft circles over the river, sensors capture images of vast wetlands, home to herds of creatures resembling giraffes and birds never seen on Earth. "There seems to be no sign of technological intervention. This is entirely a natural ecosystem," Dmitry assesses.

Sergei stares intently at the radar screen, his expression serious. "If we find no signs of modern civilization, we must prepare for the worst-case scenario: complete self-reliance and facing a world that is still pristine. But I do not rule out the possibility of a hidden civilization. Continue searching."

The Tu-214R continues its journey, gliding silently over the untouched land, leaving behind a trail of valuable data. Yet, a sense of unease lingers in the hearts of the pilots. What if they do not find what they are looking for? Or worse, what if they discover something beyond their imagination?

...

Amon Sul Port City, Mamluk Kingdom.

The morning in Amon Sul begins with a serene beauty, like a vibrant painting of everyday life. The first rays of sunlight illuminate the red-tiled roofs, creating shimmering streaks on the cobblestone streets. The sound of hooves clattering mingles with the chatter of merchants setting up their stalls. The cool morning air quickly warms as people dive into their daily routines.

At the port, various boats bob on the waves, fishermen busily preparing for their trips. Large and small wooden vessels are being loaded with nets, ready to catch the day's fresh haul. A burly man with sun-kissed skin shouts, "The sea is calm today; it's sure to be a bountiful day!"

His words are met with hearty laughter from the surrounding fishermen.

In the central market, the atmosphere is even more vibrant. Stalls begin to display fresh produce, from glistening fish to colorful tropical fruits. The cries of vendors fill the air: "Fresh fish just caught! As fresh as the sun this morning!"

"Sweet oranges here, who wants oranges!" Customers jostle, haggling, creating a symphony of urban life at the seaside.

High above, four riders on dragon mounts soar in a patrol formation. The massive dragons, with their gleaming scales reflecting the sunlight, glide through the sky as if they are divine guardians of Amon Sul. One rider, eyes fixed on the sea below, remarks, "The water level is unusually high today. It seems strange."

Another rider replies calmly, "Perhaps it's the influence of the storm season. Just be cautious."

But the tranquility is shattered by a strange rumbling sound from afar. The roar of jet engines echoes across the port, resembling a long thunderclap, causing the entire harbor to freeze in place. Fishermen abandon their tasks, looking up at the sky with worried expressions.

"What is that noise?" a young fisherman asks, his voice trembling.

"Not from a dragon... or anything like that?" an older man responds, his eyes filled with skepticism.

From the west, a massive metallic object appears, hurtling toward them at an alarming speed. The townsfolk have never seen anything like it.

"What kind of wingless monster is that?" a rider on a dragon shouts as the object approaches. The dragons immediately adjust their formation, preparing for battle.

Inside the cockpit of the Tu-214R, Sergei and Dmitry watch the scene unfold below through the glass window. Dmitry cannot hide his astonishment, exclaiming, "Did we just time travel? It looks like a city from the Renaissance, but with a hint of old German architecture."

Sergei maintains his calm demeanor, his eyes glued to the radar screen: "Stay focused. Check all systems. Radar, report the situation."

"We have four fast-approaching targets from the right!" a radar specialist's voice rings out from the control cabin.

The dragons lead the formation, charging toward the Tu-214R. One rider commands, and a dragon unleashes a massive fireball. Sergei reacts swiftly, adjusting the controls, causing the aircraft to tilt sharply to one side, narrowly avoiding the attack.

"We've just been attacked! Is that... a real dragon?" Dmitry yells, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Stay calm!" Sergei orders firmly. "Climb to 2,000 meters immediately! Avoid engagement, but prepare for defense."

The Tu-214R accelerates, soaring higher into the sky, leaving the dragons and riders below. But the situation in Amon Sul has completely changed. The townsfolk are in a frenzy, panic spreading as they shout:

"Is that Mu's magic? Or a new kind of beast?" an elderly merchant exclaims loudly.

"No! This is something that even Papaldia doesn't have!" an older fisherman shakes his head.

On the ground and in the sky, Amon Sul is no longer peaceful. But a larger question looms: is the colossal metallic stranger a friend or foe?