In Bryansk Oblast, a special train departing from Kosmo is swiftly traversing through the forest.
To the eye, it appears to be a regular green passenger train, but its interior is as luxurious as a palace, with carriages and undercarriages fortified with bomb-resistant heavy armor. The windows are bulletproof, ensuring that even a direct rocket attack wouldn't derail the train.
In one of the carriages, furnished with several sofas, Chobragov is dining. His appetite has been poor lately, so his meal is simple, consisting only of "Alishchu" made with lamb, eggplant, and chili. After eating a few bites, he sets aside his utensils.
He picks up a document from the table and starts reading, shaking his head as he does so.
Why is it like this?
I just want to save this country, but now everything seems to be spiraling out of control. Beautiful strategies turn sour as opportunists exploit and twist them into something unrecognizable.
He feels utterly exhausted. Despite being the leader of the world's second-largest political entity, he only feels an overwhelming pressure, almost suffocating him.
Two guards stand on each side of the carriage. After the incident during his last vacation, he replaced all his staff. These four are new faces. He asks one of them, "Pavlov, where are we now?"
"Just past Kaluga Oblast, Mr. President. We'll reach Bryansk in about two hours."
Chobragov looks out the window at the towering pine forest. The sunlight, sifting through the trees, seems desolate and gloomy in the autumn.
Suddenly, he spots something unusual.
It appears to be a bird, a black crow, flying at the edge of the forest. Surprisingly, it draws near the train, almost touching the window.
The crow flies alongside the train for a while, its beady eyes seemingly staring at him, causing a hint of surprise in Chobragov.
But soon, the crow caws and soars upward, disappearing from view.
He glances up curiously, only to see dozens of crows taking flight from various points on the train, converging in the air. While he's still stunned, a bright flash, like a magnesium flare, forces him to instinctively look away. When he looks back, the crows have vanished.
"This..." He almost thinks he's seeing things.
Just then, Pavlov announces, "Mr. President, we're entering a tunnel."
The train plunges into darkness, the air suddenly feels colder, and he experiences slight discomfort in his ears. He sips a cocktail from the table.
"Pavlov, did you see..."
Before he can finish, a strange voice exclaims, "Nox!"
The bright lights in the carriage suddenly go out, plunging everything into pitch darkness.
Chobragov is startled, but hears Pavlov shout, "It's a spell! Protect the President!"
Then, a red light flashes in the darkness, "Stunned!"
As the light flares up, he sees Pavlov hit, collapsing with a thud.
"Pavlov! Quick! Call for reinfor..."
"Avada Kedavra!" A terrifying green flash illuminates the carriage. Chobragov sees a thin man with a wand, his face twisted in a manic grin, pointing at another guard. The guard is struck mid-sentence and falls backward.
"Great oak, spirits of the ancestors, I request..." Chobragov recognizes Sergey's voice, but it suddenly cuts off as if muffled.
Another thud follows.
Suddenly, the lights come back on. Chobragov, trembling, sees six people have appeared in the carriage. His guards are all down.
Among the group, the youngest man is unbelievably handsome. Dressed in a black robe, he squats down to inspect the guard hit by the green flash. Then, he slaps another young man.
"Why use the Killing Curse?"
"I'm sorry, master..." Little Barticrouch, whose bloodthirsty grin vanishes instantly, stammers, "I, I..."
"Got too excited, didn't you?" the young terrorist glares at him. "You killed him, so how can we use the Polyjuice Potion now? If you can't control your desires, how can you achieve greatness!"
The man kneels, apologizing, "Sorry, master... I was wrong..."
Murphy, resisting the urge to kick him, commands, "You guys, quick, follow the plan, clean up. And you, stop kneeling. Pull out some of his hair, there might still be some life left in him."
After finishing, he finally approaches Chobragov.
The latter is shivering, "Who are you? Who sent you? What do you want?"
But Murphy just looks him over, then shakes his head, "Chobragov?"
"Are you British?" Chobragov recognizes his accent. "Are you trying to start a world war?"
"World War? Because of you?" Murphy scoffs.
That's truly pathetic.
"Help! Someone!" Chobragov suddenly shouts.
"Don't bother," Murphy says, having cast a Silencing Charm on the carriage. "Don't worry, you won't die."
"What do you actually want? Killing me benefits you how?" Chobragov demands.
"Who said anything about killing you? You like acting, right? We're just borrowing your face."
Murphy raises his wand, "Stunned!"
Two minutes later, when the chef reenters the carriage, he finds Chobragov heartily enjoying his meal.
"Mr. President, your appetite seems good today," the chef remarks happily.
"This simple dish is so delicious," Valery Lemontov, transformed into Chobragov, finishes the last bits of meat, wipes his mouth, and smiles, "No wonder so many people want to be president."
"You're quite humorous, sir," the chef chuckles. "Is something making you happy today? Any good news?"
Valery stands up, looking out the window. The sunlight through the treetops warms his face, making him feel hopeful.
"Yes, something good did happen," Valery says.
"And in the future, more good things will happen."
"Until all those who want to bury this country alive have a change of heart and start anew."
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