Chapter 3: Major

Ilyas steps into Section A, the heart of the main command center. Two soldiers stand sentinel outside the imposing door of the general's office. Without uttering a single word, they grant Ilyas passage. As he enters, his eyes fall upon the figure of the general, an aged man with a polished bald head, yet emanating an unmistakable air of authority that demands respect.

The general, a seasoned veteran of the Afghanistan war, is hailed as a hero for his instrumental role in securing the USSR's ultimate and resounding triumph. His tactical brilliance and unorthodox strategies became the catalysts for victory. Admired by the government and revered by the people, he stands as a symbol of triumph over adversity.

However, within the ranks of the soldiers, a different sentiment lingers. They perceive the general as a tyrant, a leader whose methods are steeped in cruelty. The relentless pursuit of success has come at the cost of their well-being, leaving them with a bitter taste of resentment. The contrasting views surrounding the general's legacy create an intriguing tension within the command center's walls.

In this charged atmosphere, Ilyas stands before the venerable general, a mix of awe and trepidation coursing through his veins. He knows that the path ahead is intertwined with the enigmatic figure seated before him, whose reputation precedes him.

Ilyas stood before the general, his posture rigid and his military salute executed with precision, every movement calculated to the millimeter. With unwavering focus, he began his report:

"General, I respectfully present my report as the Captain of the Second Company of Moscow Special Forces. As per your orders, I have successfully completed the task of closing Door 2B, securing the designated area from radiation with utmost efficiency and ensuring the safety of the civilian population.

It is an honor to serve under your command, General, and I take this opportunity to express my utmost respect and gratitude for your invaluable guidance. Your remarkable achievements and reputation precede you, and I am privileged to learn from someone of your caliber. Your wisdom and mentorship have influenced my own leadership style, and I am grateful for the opportunity to observe your brilliance firsthand."

Ilyas had purposefully showered the general with excessive praise, knowing that ingratiating himself could potentially yield favor and influence.

With his report delivered, Ilyas awaited the general's response, his gaze unwavering and his resolve unyielding.

The general observed Ilyas, puffing thoughtfully on his pipe. After a brief moment of scrutiny, in which the general attempted to discern the man's character but found himself at a loss, he spoke, "Well, well, such lavish compliments are hardly warranted, but I appreciate the compliment. Hmm... Comrade Ilyas, isn't it? I am delighted to have the cream of the crop from the Special Forces here! If only I had your caliber in Afghanistan, things would have been considerably smoother... Alas, we find ourselves in the present. In light of the circumstances, I, along with other senior officers currently stationed in the metro, have taken the decision to establish the interim Central Metro Command of the Moscow Metro. The detonation of the nuclear bombs has disrupted all communication with the government, presumed to be sequestered away in their bunker somewhere in Russia. However, we possess a means to communicate with them via a special and covert frequency. It has been 6 hours since the explosion, and the electromagnetic pulse should have subsided by now...Strange...But… Perf…"

The General uttered it in a hushed tone, barely audible, yet Ilyas's keen ears caught that telling slip of the tongue. Ilyas thought, 'An ambitious general, yet another enemy added to the list.'

He continued, "Ah, well. In any case, I have provided you with a concise overview of the prevailing situation. Captain Ilyas, esteemed leader of the 2nd Special Forces Company, you are hereby placed temporarily under the command of the Central Metro Command, with myself as the chief. I am promoting you to the rank of Major and entrusting you with the responsibility of overseeing two companies. Your mission entails surveillance of the environs surrounding Sector B. Under martial law, your authority is supreme unless countermanded by superior orders."

He turned around and said "Allow me to introduce Captain Igor and Captain Dimitri."

Igor introduced himself, saying, "Hello, Comrade Major, I will be at your service in the future!" Dimitri did not introduce himself and remained silent.

The general concluded, "Well, if you have no further questions, get out and leave quickly!"

As they made their way towards Sector B, located near the area where Ilyas' company would be stationed, Ilyas had a brief moment to get to know them.

Despite Igor relative youth, there was an unmistakable air of confidence and determination that surrounded him.

Captain Igor's vibrant energy was palpable as he spoke, his voice filled with enthusiasm and a hunger for success. His eyes sparkled with the fire of ambition, constantly seeking opportunities to prove himself and ascend the ranks of the military hierarchy. He carried himself with a self-assured grace, exuding charisma and charm that could captivate those around him.

Dimitri was... how should I put it... peculiar. Behind his icy exterior, Captain Dimitri's loyalty to the General is obvious. His unswerving loyalty created an impenetrable barrier, preventing any outside influence from swaying his allegiance.

Ilyas couldn't help but feel a sense of caution around Captain Dimitri. His unwavering loyalty to the General and his frosty demeanor hinted at a potential danger for those who opposed their cause. Captain Dimitri's limited responses lacked warmth or friendliness.

Ilyas knows that by impressing Igor and promising him a few things, he can persuade him to join his cause, whereas with Dimitri, he must be cautious.

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Sector B is situated in the southern region of the Moscow Metro (Image).

Ilyas's mission was to maintain order in the south, So he made the strategic decision to establish his command center at Novoyasenevskaya Station. Located roughly three stations away from Ultsa Starokachalovskaya Station, which marks the metro's border. While there are other surface stations, it's obvious that they are abandoned.

He placed his belongings in the former station master's office and set up the essentials: a radio, lockers, and plenty of paper. Ilyas never thought he would be dealing with paperwork, but he quickly searched for someone who could do some bureaucracy, caring little about their former social rank or connections. In an apocalyptic world, it was the one with weapons, or in his case, the military, who held the power to decide.

He sat down on his leather chair and closed his eyes. Numerous thoughts filled his mind. He had a lot to do: Food, Shelter, Order. As a military man since his adulthood, he had pursued brief studies, but in computer science, not very useful in this world... "Luckily, I enlisted. In the end, I made the right choice," he smiled faintly. Besides maintaining order and war, he knew little else. He had to relearn everything, and quickly.

For order and peace, it should be manageable, being a Major in the military during martial law. He just needed to issue a few orders through his radio, and that would take care of it, simple enough. As for shelter, when he was on the front lines, he had dealt with numerous refugees, so a few tents here and there should solve the problem, simple as that.

But reality delivered a punch to his gut. He had been naive. There was only a fragile peace, and conflicts erupted in various places. For instance, there was a dispute between different factions due to their previous social status. One group consisted of bureaucrats demanding more space, rations, and privileges, while the other group comprised workers seeking nothing but to live with dignity. Ilyas' soldiers were completely untrained in maintaining order and were unsure of what to do. It was only with the intervention of Dimitri's units that the situation began to calm down. Therefore, he entrusted Dimitri with the task of maintaining order and assisting in rapidly training his soldiers in maintaining order.

According to the Command, there were a total of 200,000 survivors. For housing, well, there simply wasn't enough space anywhere - in the stations, in the storage centers, it was all packed. The only place with a bit of space was the train depot. But the depot was filled with trains... There was no choice but to dismantle some of them or move them to other depots, which would take time. Some people would have to sleep side by side, squeezed together. Some people won't be happy, but so be it, there's nothing we can do.

He assigned Captain Igor the responsibility of addressing the housing issue.

And for food? He had no clue how to manage that. In the normal world, he would simply visit the supermarket, pay at the cashier, and have his groceries. But in these desolate tunnels, there were no supermarkets or farms to rely on. He informed his subordinates that there would be a meeting tomorrow at his office and to only disturb him if it was urgent.

Exhausted, he drifted off to sleep in his chair, still dressed in his uniform. Finally, he could find some respite after a grueling day filled with stress, newfound responsibilities, and the devastating loss of 99% of the world's population.

He pushed all the problems aside for the next day; for now, all he wanted was to sleep, to sleep… sleep… sl… zzz… zz… z