Soviet Union 1991

(Another story on the timeline, abridged version)

This winter in Ukraine is colder than ever. The deep snow seems to have swallowed up the whole world. Kiev, under the economic depression, is more deserted than ever. Shops closed early, and there were few pedestrians on the street. The whole sky was painted in a dark tone. The propaganda posters of street politicians looked ridiculous at this moment. The lofty and beautiful slogans, contrary to the reality, formed the most ridiculous scene. Poroshenko's policy of getting close to Western Europe did not bring any actual benefits, and the prospects were even bleaker than before.

The sound of the horn of war did not go away. After a brief pause, sporadic war conflicts broke out again in Luhansk and Donetsk, and the situation in Ukraine tilted towards the weight of war again.

The war in Eastern Europe was shrouded in dark clouds.

On the Freedom Square in Kharkiv Oblast, a blond bald man wearing a gray windbreaker and an old round-cornered hat looked at the broken statue of Lenin in the square in silence. The armored vehicles leading to the front line passed by him. The young people sitting on the top of the armored vehicles were talking and laughing, but no one noticed the silent man on the roadside.

He lowered the brim of his hat and whispered, "Death does not belong to the working class."

Then he turned and left. He was going to do what he should do.

In the Kremlin hundreds of kilometers away, a burly middle-aged man with a few strands of black in his thick white hair frowned his broad brows. He walked through the familiar streets before, but he could no longer see the familiar hammer and sickle red flag.

This country is declining in depression.

He put on his marshal's uniform again and walked towards the Kremlin.

His steps were steady, like a steel chariot, crushing the bodies of capitalists and oligarchs, moving forward all the way.

Your iron father, I'm back.

In a small beer hall in Berlin, a frustrated art candidate climbed onto the table and stared at all the silent passers-by in front of him.

His movements were somewhat funny, and the other guests with dejected expressions looked at him. Everyone was worried every day, they were afraid that their country would become a parasite-possessed motherland in the future.

No one dared to laugh at what he said next, and the man with a small tuft of beard said, "Today, I stand here! Standing on the land of the Germans! Standing on Berlin, the land watered with blood and dignity by our ancestors! However, I am very disappointed. In front of me stands a nation, a nation groaning in humiliation and bending its spine! After the end of World War II, the pride of our nation is gone! Those victors, even disgusting and despicable refugees, dare to ride on our necks and bully us. They trample on our dignity at will, the dignity of the noblest nation on the European continent! Tell me, do you choose to be a freedom fighter like Benjamin Martin, or a slave?!"

Speech that is completely opposite to the values ​​advocated by the government exploded in the beer hall and fell into the crowd of onlookers like thunder.

Something that was thought to have long since disappeared began to stir.

In the depths of their darkest hearts, they shouted heartfeltly.

"The future of Germany is the future of the German people, not the future of a group of damn refugees who are attached to Germany like parasites and suck blood! They want to build a Qingzhen country on our land, and the Germans should only do one thing!"

"Pick up the butcher knife and kill them all!"

In France, waves of protests broke out on the Champs-Elysees, Fontainebleau, and Arc de Triomphe. It is not only 10 Downing Street that has been entangled in political correctness for a long time and is suffering, but also the Elysee Palace. Refugees are like locusts swarming in, sucking the blood of this country.

The French are finally angry.

They took to the streets and protested. The Paris Police Department immediately mobilized police forces to be on alert, with batons and shields pointed at the demonstrators, ready to suppress this large-scale riot at any time.

The protest seemed orderly.

However, the most incredible scene appeared in front of them. A short man led the protesting Parisians forward. It was like the reappearance of the plot of overthrowing the corrupt republic and the decadent dynasty during the French Revolution. The revolution-loving Parisians joined this grand resistance. Just like killing King Louis, overthrowing feudal autocracy, and that grand revolution, breaking the shackles of the old era, freely leading the people forward.

Since the government cannot represent their interests, the French people have the right to choose a new national leader!

The short man stood in front of the police, surrounded by the crowd, and said calmly.

"France, your emperor, I am back."

In an instant, all the police put down their weapons and rushed to the legendary king.

Shouting long live His Majesty.

Long live the French Empire.

(The following chapters are not considered extra chapters, Red Flags All Over the World, which integrates the protagonists of the previous books that were basically unfinished, "Iron Curtain Germany" and "The Rise of the Soviet Union". Don't say that I only dig holes but don't fill them. This is a compensation to all the readers who support me.)