Ch. 22 The Outside world (1)
by AfuhfuihgsChapter 22 – The Outside world (1)
[Hanseatic Empire – Besthalm]
[Atomwaffen Factory Zone 3]
The sound of three people quietly entering the dark factory zone reached the ears of three butterflies.
In a place long dominated by the imperial “innovative industrialization,” workers were no longer treated as humans but as mere machine parts.
Thick smog covered the sky, and in this factory zone where even the stars of the night sky were invisible, the workers breathed only to survive another day.
The crack in this mechanical routine began with a whisper.
“Knowledge is equal for all. Do you understand?”
At first, it was a small but powerful phrase uttered by the crown prince. Gradually, it began to ignite a flame in people’s hearts.
And now, they had taken direct action.
“Hey, no time to dawdle. Hurry up and cut those damn wires, whether they’re red or blue!!!”
A middle-aged man, wearing a hood and a black mask, shouted in a low, rough voice.
His sweaty hands trembled with tension, and he nervously fiddled with the equipment, afraid that things might go wrong.
This wasn’t just simple rebellion—it was a declaration of war against the imperial system.
Some might question what stopping one factory could achieve, but to them, it mattered.
Because even the smallest crack could lead to something greater.
After all, breaking a rock starts with a single small strike.
“We’re doing our best here!”
A young man working in front of the machine complained.
He fumbled around, trying to find the right wires to cut.
The bundle of wires in front of him was dangerous—one wrong move, and he’d be electrocuted. So, he had to work carefully, which took time.
They had now stepped onto a path from which there was no return.
“Damn… We’ve really got guts, huh? Seriously…”
A man wearing a black mask and hat muttered as he fiddled with another machine.
Despite their complaints, they didn’t stop working.
The sound of machinery and irregular breathing filled the factory.
Finally, the last wire was cut, sparks flew, and the entire factory fell into momentary silence.
*Thud—!*
“The machines stopped.”
“What, what’s going on!?”
“Damn it, what’s happening!!!”
“Check the power switch!!!”
The gears that had been grinding people to dust came to a halt.
*Thud—!*
At that moment, like a collapsing sandcastle, the smog rising from the chimney dissipated.
The neon sign proudly displaying “Imperial Direct Factory” flickered and then went out completely.
Only the sign reading “Atomwaffen” remained, barely visible in the darkness.
They hoped this would be the first of many to fall, that their fight wouldn’t end as just a fleeting spark.
As the factory lights went out, the fluttering of wings could be felt somewhere.
A pair of butterflies with red wings flew through the darkness like ghosts.
“Hey, don’t those butterflies look kinda weird?”
Someone suddenly spoke.
Seeing butterflies in this long-polluted city was nothing short of a miracle, and the fact that their wings were bright red made it even more unusual.
“Wow…”
*Swish—*
One man reached out his hand, captivated.
*Flutter, flutter—*
*Tap—*
“Whoa, oh…!”
As a butterfly gently landed on his fingertip, the man marveled at the tiny creature perched there.
Just the fact that this small being was alive made him feel, even for a moment, that he was truly alive.
“Look at this! A butterfly… it’s sitting on my finger!”
He exclaimed, showing it to his friends.
But the masked man crossed his arms and shook his head.
“Yeah, enjoy it while you can. I’ll be preparing to wreck the next factory while you’re busy admiring butterflies.”
His voice was cold, but deep down, he understood.
The desire to find hope even in the smallest things.
But hope was a luxury they couldn’t afford.
Revolution required anger, not hope.
“The crown prince… no, the chairman, as he now calls himself, gave us direct orders, but this is also what we wanted. Atomwaffen, Sonnenkrieg, Feuerkrieg, and even Shitoin. We don’t have enough time to destroy all the factories those bastards run, and you’re here admiring butterflies?”
The man who had been watching the butterfly frowned.
“You must’ve grown up rich, seeing butterflies in greenhouses. But I was born and raised in the city. Of course, it’s amazing to see something I’ve only read about in books!”
The masked man snapped back, equally angry.
“Ugh, you’re such a kid. What are you, a grown man acting like this?”
“It’s a butterfly! A butterfly! It’s so damn cute!”
For that moment, they wanted to forget about the revolution, the empire, and the system.
They wanted to lose themselves in the beauty and cuteness of this small creature, whose every flap of its wings felt noble and earnest.
In a place where everything was stained with blood and death was a given, survivors often sought meaning in the smallest things.
But soon, even that small happiness would be denied.
“Sigh…”
The masked man sighed and said,
“Enough. Let’s go report that this mission was a success. When the Liberation Front wins, there’ll be a day when we can see insects and animals other than humans.”
*****
[Hanseatic Empire – Besthalm]
[Imperial Palace]
“The time has come, comrade.”
Stalin twitched his mustache and smiled.
“I’ve turned you into a monster… Stalin!!!”
Lenin winced in pain, acutely aware of the thorns labeled “Stalin” and “Ideology” embedded in his shoulders.
“You’ve turned all of us into monsters.”
With those words, Stalin pushed Lenin aside and approached me.
“The time has come, Albert. Yes, changing your title was a good choice. Now, how about shaking things up properly, like Lenin did? How about a civil war? Or a grand speech?”
“……”
I sighed and closed the book.
And I didn’t respond.
“Hmm…”
Stalin noticed the book I had closed—*The Revolution Betrayed* by Trotsky, who was now unconscious in the corner after Stalin’s attack.
“Ah!”
He suddenly clapped his hands and began to criticize the book.
“That book is a failure. It’s nothing but a third-rate self-help novel written by a loser and a revisionist. I’ve read a lot of books, and that kind of nonsense is just the weak, idealistic ramblings of a defeated man. In this world, the winners take all.”
Stalin was an overwhelming figure.
Even Marx and Engels together couldn’t stand up to him.
“Read the book. Read it a lot, then think about it. Smoke, drink, stay away from women and men, and just focus on me while doubting everything.”
At Stalin’s words, I slammed my fist on the desk.
“Ugh, damn it. Stop. Just stop talking. My head hurts…”
“Hmm… There’s a way when your head hurts.”
He smiled broadly and wrote a word in front of me.
“…What language is this?”
“Ah, my mistake. That’s my country’s language. In this world, this word is called ‘The Great Purge.’”
“…What?”
*Knock, knock, knock—!*
At that moment, someone knocked on the desk.
“Hey, I don’t recall ever calling that kind of thing communism.”
Marx mustered the courage to speak to Stalin.
He was furious, glaring at Stalin with the eyes of someone looking at a madman.
“What you’re doing is just a great purge, and then later, when you can’t even properly defeat a small country, you blame your friends and get cursed at. Yeah, Finland, a former principality of the Russian Empire, would be a good example. Or, if nationalism takes root, maybe something similar will happen in Ukraine in the distant future.”
“……”
Stalin couldn’t respond.
He just gritted his teeth, clearly furious.
“Well, it’s just a third-rate delusion, so don’t take it to heart.”
Marx shrugged and sneered.
“Surely you don’t think you can capture a capital in three days, only to wage war for over three years, drop bombs on civilians while lying about delivering bread, and have soldiers die from Molotov cocktails named after that country’s foreign minister, do you?”
Stalin twitched at the earlier remark, and his expression twisted several times at this one.
“I gave bread to the Finns… Ah.”
“Damn it. Seriously. What the hell happened?”
“……”
Stalin didn’t open his mouth again.
*Flutter, flutter—*
Then, three butterflies flew into the office through the open window.
“Butterflies…? Ugh, my head!”
As soon as I saw the butterflies, I thought of the Butterfly Library.
A throbbing pain shot through my head, and I clutched it.
“Wait, how can there be butterflies in a place where even rats and cockroaches can’t survive?”
But something felt off.
Why would butterflies suddenly appear in a place like this?
Curious, I got up from my chair and carefully approached the butterflies.
“This can’t be…”
*Knock, knock, knock—!*
At that moment, the office door was knocked.
“Who, who is it!?”
“It’s me, Comrade Chairman!”
“Ah.”
It was the group I had sent as factory saboteurs. I immediately recognized the voice of their leader, Bayer.
“Come in.”
“Excuse me.”
*Creak—!*
With the sound of the luxurious wooden door opening, three men entered the office.
“Bayer, Aye, Raman. Good work.”
“Thank you, Comrade Chairman.”
Bayer bowed respectfully.
“There’s still much to do. Zonnenkrieg, Feuerkrieg, Shitoin… Factory Zone 3 must be dismantled. Do you understand?”
“””Yes!”””
They still had much work ahead.
Ultimately, their goal was to create an equal world.
Even as Lenin tried to be realistic while pursuing ideals, and as Stalinism or whatever it was talked about the impossibility of those ideals, I still believed in pure ideals.
And the three butterflies with red wings continued to watch this scene unfold.
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