Ch.31Nothing happened.

# Moscow

By this time, Moscow was already in chaos with evacuation convoys.

The Bolsheviks threatened to shoot anyone trying to flee, calling them reactionaries, and even executed some as examples. But the evacuations showed no signs of stopping.

“Th-these reactionaries!”

“What nonsense.”

Despite repeated threats from officers, the evacuation lines continued, with people sneering in defiance.

Now more people openly cursed the Bolsheviks.

Of course, they were usually shot on the spot for it. But that only stirred up more resentment against the Bolsheviks.

And then.

Trotsky, who had returned to the party after hearing that Lenin had collapsed, glared at Stalin with heavy breathing.

“Stalin. What happened? I heard Comrade Lenin lost consciousness!”

“It seems he collapsed from overwork.”

Of course, it wasn’t overwork.

Stalin had poisoned Lenin through his wife.

Stalin’s plan had two possibilities:

If Lenin died, he would spread propaganda that the Okhrana had assassinated him and blame the vile White Army.

But in case Lenin didn’t die, as happened now, he would claim Lenin collapsed from overwork. With Lenin incapacitated and the situation chaotic, they would flee to Petrograd to protect Lenin and buy time.

To set his plan in motion, he had ordered Mikhail Frunze to attack the White Army once.

Trotsky, naturally unaware of Stalin’s plan, rolled his eyes in frustration.

In the current situation, the Soviet symbol Lenin had collapsed.

For Trotsky, this was practically a death sentence in an already difficult military situation.

“Why did he have to collapse at a time like this?”

“How is the war situation?”

Though the answer was obvious, Stalin offered Trotsky a glass of cold water as he asked.

Trotsky gulped down vodka and slammed the bottle on the desk with a bang.

“We can somehow hold off Anton Denikin. But the Grand Duchess and the Black Baron’s army are too much. Moreover, Mikhail Frunze’s offensive failed.”

“I was the one who ordered them to move.”

“What are you saying? You ordered an attack when we can barely defend ourselves?”

Trotsky’s eyes widened in shock at the revelation that Stalin was behind this suicidal action.

Why would he do such a thing?

The situation was already difficult enough—why make defense even harder?

“We can’t let news of Comrade Lenin’s collapse spread.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Let’s call the Red Army from the Baltic and go to Petrograd.”

“The leader of the reactionaries, the Grand Duchess, is trying to capture Moscow with bloodshot eyes, and you want us to just run away?”

The Bolshevik leadership leaving Moscow would signify defeat to that White Army leader Anastasia.

He couldn’t accept that reality.

“Moscow isn’t even our official capital yet.”

“That’s not the point!”

Yes, that’s right.

But Stalin wanted to create a justification even if they had to leave. It wasn’t simply running away with their tails between their legs.

“Yes, I know. But do you want us all to die?”

“What?”

“That vengeance-crazed Grand Duchess is trying to devour Moscow with her reactionary army. Those of us here might die in battle, but if captured, she’ll kill us horribly.”

“Are you afraid of death?”

Afraid of death?

Of course he was afraid. Stalin didn’t consider himself someone who should die here.

He wanted to create a communist country and dream bigger than Lenin.

“Comrade Lenin has collapsed, and communism is shaking. If we die, communism truly ends.”

“Hmm.”

Trotsky couldn’t deny it.

Communist supporters worldwide were watching this civil war.

They were watching the Bolsheviks fight against the White Army reactionaries and the imperialist leader Grand Duchess Anastasia.

And this civil war was heading toward defeat for communism and the Bolsheviks.

If all the Bolsheviks here died after this battle, they might become martyrs to communists.

But it would also prove that armed struggle like the Bolsheviks’ was unstable, and communists worldwide would inevitably become more hesitant after facing reality.

So they needed to survive.

Stalin put his hands on Trotsky’s shoulders with a caring expression.

“Look, Trotsky. We’re just retreating temporarily. To prevent the collapse of communism. Yudenich hasn’t crossed Petrograd yet. Let’s go there first.”

Yudenich, who was tasked with capturing Petrograd, hadn’t yet crossed it.

With Anastasia’s survival, Finland didn’t immediately side with the White Army due to independence issues, making it difficult for Yudenich alone.

Trotsky couldn’t deny that Petrograd was still safe.

There was no reason to continue fighting the reactionaries here.

“What about Moscow?”

“We’ll leave it to Mikhail Frunze.”

“He won’t hold out long.”

Trotsky coldly assessed the current situation.

Although Mikhail Frunze had been holding out, he wouldn’t last much longer.

Frunze’s offensive, which posed little threat to Anastasia, had failed, and Moscow would inevitably fall to the White Army reactionaries.

“What matters is the Communist Party’s survival. You take care of Comrade Lenin.”

“Then what about you, Koba?”

“Someone needs to be bait to lure that demonized Grand Duchess. I’ll deceive their eyes and make my way to Petrograd.”

“I wish you luck.”

Trotsky took Stalin’s hands, moved for the first time.

He never expected such a spirit of self-sacrifice.

Stalin had advocated for the execution of the Tsar’s family during the Kerensky Republic era.

And when things went awry with the Tsar’s family execution and Anastasia’s survival, he immediately changed his position and blamed Trotsky himself for ordering the execution.

For that alone, Trotsky had considered Stalin power-mad.

For the first time, Trotsky felt ashamed for thinking Stalin was as power-hungry as the imperialists.

Of course, Stalin’s true intentions were different.

‘Stupid fool, I’ll leak Trotsky’s position to the imperialists and escape myself.’

With that thought, Stalin subtly spread rumors to the Okhrana scouting Moscow’s streets and left Moscow early with his wife, Voroshilov, Blücher, and Tukhachevsky.

Originally, these three had fought against the White Army under Mikhail Frunze, but Stalin considered them key figures and wanted them to escape together.

“Is it right for just us to leave?”

“When we get to Petrograd, we’ll need to defend against the White Army. I’ll need you there.”

“It’s a shame Budyonny isn’t here. Alright, I’ll follow.”

Meanwhile, a suspicious group of White Army soldiers who spoke perfect German were circling far around Moscow.

German troops following American forces who were helping the Asiatic Cavalry Division attack fleeing Bolsheviks from Moscow had lost track of the Americans.

“What are we doing in this Slavic land?”

A German soldier complained from some floating location that seemed near Moscow but was hard to identify.

“Damn it. Why should we fight for these Slavs? Even wearing their uniforms.”

As the disgruntled German sergeant searched for the American forces, a unit of Red Army soldiers was spotted moving.

Yes, it was all because of those Bolsheviks.

Jews and Bolsheviks. Those two were why the German soldiers were here.

Germany was defeated because of Jews, and he was in this Slavic land because of Bolsheviks.

“I need to vent somehow.”

This Russian sergeant who spoke German very well fired at a group dressed as Red Army soldiers.

He needed to release his frustration on them.

“Bolsheviks! Catch them!”

Bang!

He sprayed his directionless anger at the fleeing Bolsheviks, and finally, as if granting his wish, the German White Army’s bullet pierced through a fleeing man’s groin.

“Aaaaargh!”

Stalin collapsed forward in pain greater than when he wandered through Siberia or was arrested and exiled there.

Blood streamed from between his legs.

In this terrible agony, Stalin couldn’t regain his senses.

Even at this moment, blood was flowing from his groin.

“Aaah! You’re bleeding between your legs!”

“Stalin! Stalin!”

“Damn it. His groin is turning red with blood!”

“W-we must escape to Petrograd. Ugh.”

Not long after leaving Moscow, Stalin and his friends were captured by White Army soldiers who suspiciously spoke German well.

And then.

“Strangely, I feel satisfied. Why is that?”

The German soldier who shot Stalin in the groin felt oddly relieved, enough to momentarily forget the shock of Germany’s defeat.

As if he had eliminated an enemy from a past life.

He felt incredibly satisfied.

* * *

The once-solid Moscow collapsed.

No, it wasn’t that solid to begin with. It was like pouring water into a broken jar. With no cooperation from Petrograd internally and our continuous attacks externally, they had no chance.

“I surrender.”

Mikhail Frunze, the Red Army’s Eastern Commander in charge of Moscow’s defense, surrendered shortly after.

As if the bloody battles where people killed each other had never happened, the White Army entered an eerily quiet Moscow where silence reigned except for what was visible.

Of course, the surrendered Bolsheviks were all disarmed.

“Finally, we’ve recaptured the Third Rome!”

I entered Moscow on horseback, wearing a Russian general’s uniform modified like Grand Duchess Louise’s.

White Army soldiers who had entered first lined both sides of the main road to welcome me.

Behind them, Moscow citizens cautiously watched.

Parents trembling while holding their children.

Elderly people staring with empty eyes.

A child younger than me wearing a Soviet uniform, crying.

These people had supported, assisted, or cooperated with the Bolsheviks, willingly or unwillingly.

They must be afraid we would kill them as the Bolsheviks had done.

I approached them.

“Nothing happened.”

“Grand Duchess?”

“After the Black Death, the worst plague briefly raged. There was no civil war, nothing.”

The Moscow citizens held their breath, listening to my words.

“Humans are meant to face trials. Russia has merely experienced a temporary hardship. Despite this, we are Russians, heirs to the Eastern Roman Empire that once commanded Europe. Let us rise above this trial.”

It was just a temporary disease outbreak.

Yet we are all Russians, and as successors to the powerful Roman Empire, we should overcome this pain and rise again.

“We will hold funerals for those who died from the plague after Moscow is stabilized.”

All of this was due to the Red Plague.

Neither you nor we are at fault.

We can all forget everything.

“Now, Moscow citizens, return to your livelihoods.”

That one last statement was all that was needed.

Now, to finish things, let’s deal with the remaining Bolsheviks.