Long-term salvation

"You KGB guys are going to take him away and execute him, right?! You forest bugs, you bear shit from the Ural Mountains, you maggots from the septic tank! I will never allow your atrocities. I will report to the higher-ups - the higher-ups - uh..."

A document was thrown in the warden's face, and as he continued to read, his angry expression quickly dissipated like a shower in the mountains, and a sudden ecstasy filled his entire face - and then turned into shame, embarrassment and fear:

"Um... two KGB comrades, I didn't mean it just now."

"Oh? So what do you want to report to your superiors?"

Rhode asked in amusement, and the middle-aged man, who had already exhausted all his courage half a minute ago, could only stammer to explain, rubbing his hands nervously at the seams of his pants, and then carefully folded the document and whispered:

"Nothing. I'm not reporting anything."

"You seem to admire him, Warden, or you wouldn't be speaking up for him."

As Rhodes spoke, he saw the warden wipe the sweat off his face with a handkerchief, then waved his hand to let the guards who were looking here go back. The three of them were heading deeper into the prison corridor.

The corridors were spotless, their walls painted with brightly colored slogans like "Labor is Glorious" and "Strive for Truth." Sunlight streamed through every cell, occupied or not, trailing long golden ribbons across the corridors.

This doesn't feel like a prison.

This was the second time Rhodes felt this way, and he was certain that this prison was not like this at the beginning.

"Sablin is a good man," the warden shook his head and sighed, "he's not a traitor... He changed me, us, and the entire prison. In the past ten years, the only thing Sablin asked of us was books and paper and pens. He learned vegetable gardening, painting, carpentry, and other labor skills from other prisoners—all in the face of the possibility of being shot tomorrow!"

Rhodes did not reply, but simply looked at Perseus, who responded with a smug and proud look.

As the warden walked down the corridor with Rhodes and Perseus, the prisoners in the cells on both sides came to the prison bars and looked at the three with sadness, regret and anger. It was not until they heard the guards discussing the news that Sablin had been rehabilitated that they showed genuine smiles - just like the warden just now.

"Sabrin is leaving here."

"...those damn old men would let him out so easily?" One prisoner slapped the metal bars, his voice echoed by the others. "It's definitely not a good thing. He might just be transferred from one prison to another."

"Didn't you hear what the warden said? He's been pardoned!"

"What lies won't these KGB men tell?"

"You have a point," the convinced prisoner nodded. He tried hard to put his head against the bars and looked towards the cell where Sablin was. "But I still hope he can be released. I no longer expect to be able to get out myself."

"I wonder if his family is still around..."

Rhodes shook his head as he listened to the discussions behind him. He followed Perseus and continued walking forward.

The corridor was stiflingly hot, with only a hint of coolness felt as one passed the cells, a breeze from the Ural Mountains carried through the prison bars, the only window onto the outside world. But in winter, this cool breeze would become a sharp knife, peeling away layer after layer of skin and flesh.

The prisoner had gone through such winter and summer more than a dozen times.

A thin middle-aged man was lying on the bed. His cell was furnished with a small table, a chair, a toilet, and books that almost filled the bottom of the bed. It seemed that these things were supporting the hard wooden bed.

Standing outside the prison, Rhodes raised his hand to stop the warden from speaking. He then walked through the opened iron gate, approached the man, leaned over, and whispered in his ear:

"Sablin, wake up, the exploiters are back."

The man lying on the bed suddenly opened his eyes!

Sablin stood up from the bed, his body straight. He looked at Rhodes and Perseus calmly, his eyes sweeping over the KGB emblems on their bodies, and said calmly:

"can I help you?"

"I want to announce to you, Valery Mikhailovich Sablin, that you have been pardoned and rehabilitated for treason, and that you are now a hero against the rigid system."

Perseus said as he stepped forward and shook hands with the dazed Sablin… The old man’s hand was so strong that Sablin subconsciously turned his inquiring gaze towards Rhodes.

This young man was different from the others—a light as hot as the sun flashed across his body, as if wrapped and hidden by this shell of flesh and blood. The scrutiny and majesty in his azure eyes even surpassed those of the generals and marshals Sablin had ever seen!

The inhuman and human temperaments are perfectly blended together, as if a fiery human soul is hidden in the cold religious statue.

So broken, yet able to stand here, standing in this material world.

Who is he? He definitely can't be the KGB!

"Marshal Akhromeyev is waiting for us in Sverdlovsk. We must leave immediately," Perseus said in a low voice. He watched Rhodes drive the warden out before continuing. "The situation outside is not optimistic right now. The political struggle among the upper echelons is fierce. Someone might send an assassination attempt on your behalf because of your identity... or maybe not, but we must be prepared."

"We understand. Please give me a few minutes to pack up the manuscript and other things."

Hearing this, Sablin suppressed his heart which was beating non-stop with joy, to prevent it from escaping from the corners of his mouth which was unable to suppress the smile, but soon he felt a little sad - what is the motherland like now after more than ten years in the rigid system of lack of oxygen?

But no matter what, we still need to leave here first. Thinking of this, Sablin took a few steps and said to the warden outside the cell:

"Comrade Kolevatov, please distribute my things according to the will I wrote long ago. Leave my theoretical books to Comrade Doroshenko, and my novels and comic books to Slobodin, the young soldier guarding the eastern section of the wall. As for the mattress and pillow I sewed, it depends on who needs them... Oh, and please find someone to help take care of my flowers. Just water them every few days."

"I'll take care of the flowers, the vegetable garden, and everything else for you," the warden nodded. He reached out and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Leave here! I'm still waiting for you to appear in the newspaper!"

"Thank you for taking care of me, comrade."

Sablin nodded slightly, but then turned to Rhodes and Perseus and asked with a bit of embarrassment and shyness:

"Before we leave these mountains, could you please find me a place where I can see the top of Mount Horachaheli?"

"Hmm?" Rhodes raised an eyebrow slightly upon hearing the location. He and Perseus exchanged glances, each with their own speculations. "Why... do you want to see that mountain?"

"Since I was imprisoned here, I have seen an eye embedded in the top of the mountain in my dreams every night. I was a little uncomfortable at first, but later I began to look into the eyes. Because of this, I hope to look at the mountain before leaving here - there is nothing there, right?"

"...You just dreamed about eyes?"

"Occasionally, I hear the roars of wild beasts and what sound like human screams, but lately, those sounds have become louder and more frequent," Sablin exhaled slowly. These strange events clearly exhausted him. "Even the eyes in my dreams have become closer and more real. Last night, I saw a crack in the center of that eye, and more eyes were staring back at me from behind that crack."

"You mean to say you've been looking at that thing for more than ten years?"

"If I remember correctly."

Where the hell did this Wallfacer come from?!

"...I should have recruited you into the Army Without Borders."

Rhodes slapped himself in the face and turned to look at Perseus, but the latter also had a look of horror on his face. After meeting Rhodes's gaze, the old man immediately shook his head and said:

"Don't even think about it. I won't let him join the Army Without Borders... Please forgive my selfishness, Rhodes."

Rhodes, that was the young man's name, Sablin thought, but then he heard the young man say:

"In that case, we should let him see the real world now."

"……Um?"

Chapter 251 Heading to the Mountaintop (3K)

"Goodbye, Sablin!"

"Don't come back again!"

“Thank you for the book you left me…”

Amid the blessings of the prisoners and guards, Sablin waved to them and then turned and left the prison where he had been imprisoned for more than ten years.

But just as he was about to step out of the prison gate, Sablin suddenly felt a little scared:

This is not the fear of possible death, but... change.

Fourteen years had passed. What had happened to the outside world? The censored newspapers and books that arrived once a month offered no clue as to the true state of global development. How was the country? How was the army? How were my wife and children?

Compared with these troubles, what is death? Rather, death is a kind of liberation and escape.

"Sablin, what are you waiting for?"

Sablin raised his head and looked at the young man standing outside the prison gate. Beside him stood a white-haired old man, a strong soldier, and a beautiful lady, all of whom were looking at him.

"Come out quickly! You still have a country to save, and we still have a world to save. We don't have that much time to waste!"

Sablin turned around and saw the prisoners still wearing simple prison uniforms. These people were thrown here because of ridiculous or stupid political views and betrayal, but now they have become his friends; he saw the prison guards saluting him, young, old, familiar, strangers, at this moment, they were all sending their blessings.

It's time to get out of here.

Sablin raised his foot and stepped out of the prison gate.

Soon, the sound of the door closing reached his ears. The rusty track made a crisp sound like a broken bone, and after a muffled thunder, it closed completely, isolating the inside and the outside, and the past and the present.

"Perhaps I'll come back here again," Sablin muttered to himself. He quickly walked over to Rhodes and Perseus and asked, "What did you mean by showing me the 'real world'?"

"You'll find out, but for now, we need to find an open area."

As Rhodes spoke, he opened the car door and motioned Sablin to get in, but Perseus standing next to him still looked a little angry. He was bloated all the way out of the prison, just like a giant Siberian hamster that had bloated up for the winter.

The old man agreed to take Sablin to the secret experimental base and not let him go deep into it after being persuaded by Rhodes for several times and after the latter assured him that "nothing would happen to him". In fact, Rhodes did not intend to let a group of people climb up the mountainside, wasting time and energy.

So, he decided to exchange it for a Mi-8T helicopter! This thing can carry four UV-16-57 unguided rocket pods (with S-5 rockets) installed on four hardpoints on two outrigger pylons and is equipped with one or two side-mounted PK machine guns.

This helicopter could fit up to 24 strong Slavic men, more than enough to carry Rhode and his men, as well as four or five of the most elite Perseus soldiers. Of course, helicopters were not uncommon, but if they appeared out of nowhere, it was a different matter.

In an instant, as if the world had skipped a frame, the Mi-8MT helicopter suddenly appeared in front of everyone. Its entire body was covered in camouflage, and the unguided rocket pods carried on both sides were pure white like ice and snow, reflecting the cold metallic light in the sunlight.

"Where did this come from?!"

Sablin wanted to shout, but someone was faster than him—the Perseus soldiers next to him. They were all elite soldiers who had served in the Soviet army for many years and had witnessed the horrors of the otherworldly creatures, but now, these young men were still stunned by what was happening before their eyes.

Perseus only said the savior could wield rifles and machine guns, but he never mentioned this! And your "five loaves and two fishes" is a bit too big... So, in the future, will everyone be given five T72 tanks and two MiG-29 fighter jets?

The T80 and Su-27 series are also possible.

"Don't be so surprised. I don't want to pay for the medical expenses of your dislocated jaw. After all, there will be plenty of surprises in the future."

Rod said with a smile, he took off his Soviet KGB uniform and changed into a stealth suit, moving around a few times on the spot to avoid any inconvenience during the battle.

Not only that, he also has an AK-74N rifle hanging around his neck, which is a refined version provided by Atlas... According to Mr. Kalashnikov, he is trying to integrate the Picatinny rail launched by Atlas to make it a more "modern (M)" firearm.

"Except the helicopter pilot and co-pilot, there are four more people," Rhodes said. He winked at Perseus, who then spoke:

"Soldiers, comrades, you have seen the power of your future leader. Who still doubts it? No? Very well, now let us go to fight - whatever truth or rumor there is, it will be proven in practice - start the helicopter and prepare to go."

After Perseus finished speaking, he patted Sablin's shoulder and handed him some slightly thicker clothes. On top of the clothes was a holster with a Makarov pistol (PM) inside. The metal part not covered by the holster was showing a matte black color.

"I haven't used a weapon in a long time," Sablin exhaled slowly. He took the holster with a complicated expression and tucked the clothes under his armpit. "I even thought that the next time I came into close contact with a weapon would be when a bullet pierced my head."

"You're not a warrior destined for battle," Rhodes said, shaking his head as he stood beside Sablin. "This is for you to commit suicide. Once 'captured' by the other world, the longer you live, the more severe your torture will be. It will far exceed any torture and killing in human history. You might even have your brain removed, becoming the plaything of some abomination whose lifespan rivals that of human civilization."

This was definitely not a joke, Sablin clearly felt the seriousness of the person in front of him.

"...Is the other world so dangerous?" Sablin's lips trembled slightly. He instantly thought of a dozen possibilities. "Does the Soviet Union...does human society know about this?"

"Not yet, but they will find out."

Rhodes shook his head and looked at Perseus who was giving instructions to a soldier carrying a radio. The latter nodded with a look of regret on his face - he would stay at the foot of the mountain to facilitate contact with Ling who was leading the team here.

"Anyway, let's get on the helicopter and talk while we fly."

In that case, what else is there to say?

The sharp roar of the helicopter engine starting up suddenly tore through the silence of noon. The auxiliary power unit under the tail boom spewed out orange-red flames, and the hydraulic pump began to inject golden oil into the transmission system with a faint murmur that ordinary people could not hear, like a giant awakening from its slumber.

The main rotor trembled slightly, then began to spin, stirring up a fierce wind that crackled the surrounding gravel and formed a thin cloud of dust that flowed in the direction of the rotor's rotation. The moment the helicopter left the ground, the mechanical instruments designed in the 1970s resonated like a church organ, like some kind of sacred mechanical prayer, wild, violent, yet extremely pragmatic, just like the Slavs who designed and built them.

The helicopter took to the air, leaving the forest and the earth behind, and headed for the mountains of the Ural Mountains without distraction.

The roar of the propellers immediately tore a sound wave through the folds of the Ural Mountains, startling a flock of black birds.

After flying for more than ten minutes, Rhodes glanced at Sablin who was reading the introduction to the other world provided by Perseus, and then shifted his gaze to the two Nikki who were checking their weapons. There was no special expression on their faces. Only after their eyes met Rhodes did they quickly lower their heads and speed up the movement of wiping the weapons on their hands.

"Little Red Riding Hood," Rod shouted to the red-haired Nikki. The noise in the cabin was really annoying. "You stay on the helicopter for a while and serve as our long-range fire support, and Marian will follow me in. Is there any problem?"

"No...Wait, Commander, are you sure there will be a battle soon?"

Marian frowned slightly and turned to look at Sablin, whose face was gloomy and his fingers were tightly clutching a notebook filled with knowledge of the other world. After studying Sablin for a few seconds, Marian put away her weapon, sat down beside Rhodes, and whispered in his ear:

"What if a fierce battle breaks out, beyond the capabilities of Mr. Perseus and the other soldiers? You know, I heard it too—the Soviets used the blood of nearly two thousand people to seal that crack, didn't they?"

"..." Rhodes paused, then slowly said, "If that comes to the point, then let the two of us stay."

"Okay!"

Nikki smiled in response, having gotten the answer she wanted. Her smile was as bright as the sunlight outside the cabin. At this moment, the Mi-8T's round belly had already passed over the granite ridge, and the light was flowing across the dark green and iron-gray camouflage metal skin, reflecting the rivet array into countless sparkling silver stars.

In the sunlight, Rod playfully pinched Marianne's cheek, touching her nose intimately. Little Red Riding Hood, who was sitting opposite him, grumbled sourly and could only turn her gaze out the cabin window.

The midday sun, hanging between thin cirrus clouds, cast the shadow of the helicopter on the jagged, barren ridgeline below. The moving dark speck climbed the gentle slope and rolled over the moraine covered with dark brown moss. In winter, this place would be covered with snow, white and clean.

Soon, everyone heard the helicopter pilot's voice coming through the cabin broadcast:

"Attention, this is the cockpit! We've reached the summit of Mount Horachaheli, but there's no suitable landing spot, so we'll be hovering over the edge of the cliff. You'll need to descend on yourselves... Although we'll try to stay as close to the ground as possible, the rotor wind is very strong, so please be careful!"

"Very good," Rhodes stood up, touched Little Red Riding Hood's head, and after receiving a gentle kiss from her, he turned to look at the other people in the cabin, "Everyone, prepare to get off the plane, and -"

"Bring your weapons."