"Radio "Zvezda," bringing you the news. Today is July 6, 2013. The crisis of the new war is nearing its end, and our relations may yet be restored. Despite the danger of confrontation, our government has demonstrated resilience and strength, proving to the world that our spirit cannot be broken by threats or blackmail. The Russian Federation, no matter how its actions are judged, continues to move forward. Now, let's turn to some more peaceful news. Recently, parti..."
"Vadim, have you checked the seventh and fourth sectors?" my boss, Pyotr Nikolaevich, asked me. The radio kept humming on the table, but work wouldn't wait.
I had settled into a small room for metro workers to have a quick meal and listen to the latest news. The old radio looked like it had been here since Soviet times—amazing that it still worked. But it seemed my lunch break would have to wait.
"Just a moment, just a moment," I replied, getting up from my chair and turning off the radio.
Life underground rarely brought joy. Only the voice of the sky sometimes comforted us with its warm, barely audible sound. Leaving the room, I headed to the technical area and walked over to the workbench. I picked up my tool belt, grabbed my helmet and gloves. Then, slinging everything over my shoulders, I set off toward the designated sections of Novokosino Station.
I had to make sure there were no cable damages or signs of burning. Those damn rats seemed to have made it their mission to destroy everything they could get their teeth on.
My path led me to a dusty, dimly lit room. It always looked like an entire army had marched through it. The rodents had already chewed through several wires, but nothing critical. I had repaired these communication lines and control boards so many times… Sometimes it felt like victory over these creatures was impossible.
After finishing my inspection of the sixth sector, I made my way to the fourth. They said a few lamps had burned out and needed checking.
Moscow's Soviet-era metro was always impressive. Here, one could see not only engineering mastery but also true artistry, created to inspire even underground.
The fourth station wasn't very crowded. There weren't many passengers here, and the atmosphere left much to be desired. I found the necessary lamps old, flickering dimly. I logged them in the maintenance journal to replace them later.
Now, all that remained was to grab the spare lamps and the stepladder. Once I finished replacing them, I could call it a day. There were no more issues on the maintenance list.
*Siren.*
Even underground, I heard its wail. A drill? No, the siren signaled something serious. It was often used for potential catastrophes or incidents that led to massive destruction.
I bolted toward the staircase leading up to the surface exits. As I approached, I noticed people frozen in place, staring upward as if trying to see something. I looked up too, even though I knew there would be nothing there. A clear, open sky.
Then, a voice boomed from the loudspeakers:
"Attention! All residents of Moscow must immediately evacuate open areas and take shelter in the nearest bunkers or the metro. A high-level nuclear threat has been declared!"
The siren blared louder than usual, drilling into my ears and leaving an eerie void in its wake. On the streets, many stood in shock, as if unable to believe what they had just heard. Some glanced around in confusion, hoping this was just a mistake or some kind of misunderstanding.
But within seconds, it became clear: this was no drill. And it was definitely not a joke.
A powerful explosion erupted in the distance. The shockwave tore through the city, shattering windows and leaving chaos in its wake. As if in slow motion, a towering column of fire and smoke rose on the horizon, flames licking at the sky. Sirens wailed, screams echoed through the streets, and panic spread like wildfire.
For a moment, I stood frozen, but fear kicked me into action. I had to get back to the metro. Fast.
But the stampede had already begun. People, blinded by terror, fought to reach the underground shelters. No one was watching their step some fell, others were trampled underfoot in a desperate rush to escape certain death.
One thought pounded in my head:
This can't be happening. It just can't be…
The emergency alarm blared through the station. The Cold War-era automatic sealing systems activated. The heavy blast doors groaned as they began to close, locking the metro away from the outside world—and the radiation. The station was becoming an improvised bunker.
"Help! My leg!" a woman's voice snapped me out of my daze.
I turned and saw her struggling to get up. She had twisted her ankle probably because of her high heels. She screamed in desperation, trying to stand.
Without thinking, I rushed to her side. I lifted her up, supporting her weight as we stumbled toward the closing doors. We pushed through the frantic crowd, everyone clawing their way toward safety.
I hesitated for a second, trying to help another fallen person, but the human tide was relentless. The mass of bodies still clogged the narrow staircases, each person desperate to get inside before the doors shut completely.
For those who wouldn't make it in time, there was only despair. And death.
The doors were nearly shut now, sealing the metro as the last refuge of survival.
"Hurry, squeeze through!" I shouted, but the panicked crowd only pushed harder, slowing everyone down.
Fear had taken hold of us all.
"Calm down!" I tried to shout over the deafening noise, but no one was listening. The station doors were closing.
"No! Stop them!" a man screamed, thrusting his arm into the narrow gap between the door and the wall. I grabbed his hand and tried to pull him through.
"Noooo!" his final scream echoed just before the doors sealed shut.
A sickening crunch. A wet, fleshy snap. Blood splattered across me.
I fell to the floor. And in my trembling hands, all that remained… were the shattered remnants of his arm.
For a moment, everything froze. The voices of the crowd faded into a distant murmur. I stared at my blood-soaked fingers, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Then, slowly, I lifted my gaze to the doors where so many people were still trapped outside.
"Hey! You work for the metro, right? Can't you open the doors?" a man shouted, stepping toward me.
"No. It's an automated system. It can only be disabled from central control or with special access codes," I replied, my voice eerily robotic. "But if we open them, radiation will flood in, and we'll all die."
"How can that be?!" a woman nearby nearly screamed. Her voice trembled, and tears welled up in her eyes. "What about the people outside?!"
I looked at her, my voice calm, almost emotionless.
"They will die."
A dull, thunderous impact echoed from outside. The heavy metal doors shuddered under the force. The screams behind them fell silent in an instant, replaced by an eerie, ringing void. I knew what that meant. The shockwave had hit.
In mere seconds, everything outside had been obliterated. The thermal blast had incinerated every living thing in its path. Those who hadn't made it inside were likely vaporized before they even realized what was happening.
"Why am I thinking about this so coldly?" the thought flickered through my mind.
Images of catastrophe filled my vision an expanding fireball consuming everything, buildings crumbling to ash, charred bodies frozen in their last moments.
Could this really be the end?
Had World War III truly begun?