Chapter 13: Inner thoughts
"If a man knows not to which port he sails, no wind is favorable"
~ Seneca
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Here he was...
In that damn attic.
The Red Army had continously beaten his White Army everywhere, especially in the cities and big industrial centres... They were like pests. The more they killed, the more they multiplied.
Millions were killed, tens of millions joined their cause.
Their leadership was ruthless even towards their own people. Most of the times, they were forced to fight even when they couldn't.
But Nikolai didn't have that privilege. At the moment he began forcing things on his soldiers, they would change the color of their armbands and join arms with the Reds.
Fight after fight, skirmish after skirmish, Nicholas was forced to abdicate and now isolated in a Royal estate, surrounded by the Red Army.
He found himself in the basement, where the Communists had promised him safety.
Nicholas was in fact a family man. He loved his family and was really concerned about their fate.
That's exactly why he had accepted any condition they had, only asking for his family's safety.
But fate had other plans. Soon, Nicholas understood he shouldn't have trusted the damn Communists.
The basement was dark but Nicholas could still see the eyes of his family when the Communists walked in with guns in their hands.
He was the first one to be shot and heard his family and kids crying and shouting out loud.
In the brief moments he stayed alive in the ground, he saw his family getting slaughtered, the great Romanov family getting treated no better than some rebellious scum.
Guilt, anger, grief, and a huge feeling of revenge washed over him.
He felt overwhelmed.
'Oh, God. What did I do to deserve all this?
What did I do to become so miserable as to watch my children die in front of me and not to be able to do anything about it? Me, the Tsar and Autocrat of all Russians! Me, who by your will became Tsar?
Oh God Almighty! What will happen to Russia now without the guidance of their divine rulers?
Help me God! Help me take revenge on them! On this life or the other!'
With those intense thoughts, Nikolai II, The Last Tsar of the Russian Empire closed his eyes and passed on to the afterlife...
...
(Our) Nicholas woke up panting and sweating...
'What a shitty nightmare...
Is this supposed to be my future?
Is this the responsibility I will have to bear?
...
Why am I here in the first place? Why me? Why in the body of Nicholas?
Is that because of that last wish of his?
Or was it maybe God? But I wasn't even a firm believer in my past life...' Nicholas thought.
He got up from his bed and walked towards his huge window. There, he stared at the sky.
'Am I here to exact your wishes, Nikolai?
Or am I here to exact Your wishes, o God?
What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to change? Why did you bring me here?'
Nicholas was in a huge bind. He was confused. 1001 questions, but no answers.
Was it God? Was it Fate? Or was Nicholas' wish the catalyst to all this?
He didn't know...
'Sometimes, I really miss the comfort of the 21st century... The intrigues and pressure sometimes overwhelm me.
But... I have always wanted to make a difference, always wanted to be a protagonist of an era. So here I am... Sometimes I even think this was the era I was meant to be born in.
The values of family, patriotism, sacrifice and God are still mainstream in this era... It feels... exhilarating.
Throughout the months I have passed here, I have realised that, deep down, I have always hated the cursed liberal ideas and the way they transformed society into something macabre. That's probably why I adapted so fast to this life.
Is that who I am supposed to be? A protector of God's values?'
More questions without answers...
Nicholas still hadn't fully realized who he was supposed to be. But he knew that before doing anything, he first had to survive. And for that he had to get out of his room and be the Crown Prince Russia vehemently needed right now.
It was the 5th of May.
Alexander had fallen sick already and Nicholas was beginning to take the state affairs in his hands. He was given more freedom on his personal allowance so he had invested more globally and had slowly convinced his father to use funds to buy off American technicians and equipment.
Also, his association was already underway. The funds were still limited but the main scientists were already working on their projects without any major problems.
The conservatives were still unhappy but Nicholas was protected by Alexander's large shoulders so they couldn't threaten him, for now.
Everything was going smoothly enough, maybe too smooth even.
Newspapers and planted civilian agents worked in his favor everyday, changing the population's impression of him.
...
Outside in the cold, in an average hut in St. Petersburg, a Russian young man, Ivan, was talking to his mother.
"Boss decided to cut my wage again..." he sighed sadly.
In the kitchen, his mom winced, but she still happily said:
"Dont worry, my son, we still have some bread leftover from 2 days ago."
Ivan sighed once again, knowing what his mother was thinking... his father died working in the factory, something common at this point in time, when Labour Laws didn't exist. With that, he was left as the only male in the house, since his younger brother died when he was 3 too...
'Mabye Viktor and his group are right after all...'
His mother walked in and asked him:
"What is that savage face? What are you thinking about?"
"I am just thinking about Victor and what he told me. I am not sure what his group call themselves but they promise peace, equality and bread for all, every day..."
His mother walked towards him furiously and looked at him in the eyes "I dont want to hear those thoughts again! This is the last time I tell you! The Tsar is our Godsent ruler. If that changed, God would strike us down Himself." she harshly reprimanded him.
'My son, I don't want you to be included in anything remotely dangerous... You're the only thing I have left in this world.' she thought.
"Alright, mother" responded Ivan dejectedly, sighing.
'Please be safe.' wished Ivan's mother once again, clasping her hands together.
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