Chapter 1: Memories of Death
Author's Note
I’m not really sure how this one will turn out. I am feeling uncertainty about this first chapter and how it has been written (working 70 hours a week for two months straight has taken a toll on my creativity), but I do feel that it is at least good enough for now.
Please let me know what you think! There will be more chapters in the future, but I cannot make guarantees on the frequency, as I have been very, very busy as of late.
DISCLAIMER: There are a lot of tags on this story as you have probably discovered, even though not everything featured in the tags is reflected in this first chapter. What I have rated this story as and what tags I have selected are applicable to what I expect to include in the story at some point in some chapter, but specifics have not yet been drafted. If, at he completion of this story, not all of the tags are utilized, I will remove them.
To those who do not know, Maxim Basuda is the name of the Operator named “Kapkan” in the Ubisoft game “Rainbow Six: Siege.” I DO NOT own Kapkan or Rainbow Six: Siege, and do not claim them. The use of Kapkan as a character is purposed for entertainment only, and not for any marketing or otherwise monetary purpose.
I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1: Memories of Death
Blood.
A red liquid that pulses through everyone. It sustains the very force of life under which we are able to survive, carrying vitality to every crevice of our fragile bodies.
Pain.
A reaction of the nerves to warn our brains that something has damaged our body. Our instincts tell us to pull away when pain is experienced, so that we may continue living in this hellish world.
Death.
A vast plain of unknowns that have been speculated about for as long as humanity has existed. To put it simply, death is what is experienced when our bodies can no longer sustain the processes by which we survive. Death can come in several forms, several instances, and in several situations; but the end result is always the same.
I crawled with great difficulty toward the doorway, pain shooting through my limbs with every movement and straining of muscles, blood pouring from my wounds as I did so. It would not take a genius for someone in my situation to know that death was near at hand; its icy breath creeped down my neck and shook my very soul. I let forth several grunts as I moved another few inches, a warm trickle now running down my arms.
Beslan had been a cakewalk compared to what I felt here. First the gunfire, then the screams, now the continuous yelling in languages I do not know and cannot understand. The FSB had been deployed shortly after the police, and after negotiations had failed entirely, a violent struggle erupted. I was among those ordered to storm the building, and now, here I was: covered in my own blood, in severe pain, and on the verge of death… a situation no one covets to be in.
But the end? Here? Now? In this godforsaken café with these godforsaken terrorists? No! I would not allow it. The aid kit on the table was now a mere fifteen meters away. With Herculean effort I strained to pull myself forward again, but as my sharply tingling muscles dragged my limp body forward again, my vision tunneled greatly. “Der’mo!” I said, my voice laced with pain and anger.
After half a minute, I had reached the table. I was losing blood faster and faster with every passing second, and thus, my mind focused on nothing but halting the bleeding. I reached an arm up and grasped the edge of the oaken furniture piece, and then hoisted up my other arm once it was securely in place. I prayed a silent prayer for strength, and then with every last ounce of energy I had left, I began to try and lift myself up. I grunted, strained, and gritted my teeth as my muscles fiercely protested their continued use. Although progress was slow, I slowly began to lift myself up. When my chest had reached above the edge of the table, I then took a deep breath and tried to swing my right elbow up and over the table to give myself a better leverage.
But with a sharp smack and a sharper pain, my elbow hit the edge of the table with a great force, causing my left arm to lose its hold and my body careening toward the ground. I cried out in pain as my full weight struck the cold concrete, my blood having painted it a brilliant red. I tried to lift my arms up again… but they would not move; my strength had finally failed me.
“Fucking Caucuses!” I thought with anger. So many lives had been extinguished there… and now, so many lives were being extinguished here. The sins of our fathers were now coming to bear on their sons, and here I stood now taking the consequences for actions that were not my own. My life was now the sum total of the greed, ineptitude, and poor decisions of those who came before me, and I was powerless to stop it.
“Nyet… nyet…” I whimpered, desperately looking around for some other medical kit. None came to my vision, however, and with a defeated and deathly sigh, I let my head rest against the ground. My blackening vision now became darker as my breathing slowed and my heart fluttered, things that would have caused me to panic had I had the energy to do so.
In soft and pained prayer, I let my body finally shut down. Thirty-eight years was only half of what my lifespan was supposed to be, but in the line of work I had chosen, there were many who had fallen younger than I. I briefly remembered their faces, their names, their deeds… and wondered if I would be so remembered as well.
“Maxim…” a lonely, soft, and echoing voice called out to me.
“Hmm?” I hummed in response, too pained and too tired to care to pay attention to the fact that nobody was in the room with me or even the room adjacent.
“Your story is not over, Maxim…” the voice gently called again. Strangely, with every syllable, the voice seemed to calm me and soothe my sharp aches, making my mind race around what or who it could possibly be or who it could belong to.
“But I lay in a pool of my own blood on the floor of terrorist infested building,” I said, my voice beginning to slur. “How is this not the end for me?”
“You are needed elsewhere,” the voice whispered, sounding much closer this time. With an array of vivid colors flashing before me, my vision no longer darkened, but was now replaced with a great and blinding light.
“Who is this? Who is there?” I asked, my voice had a slight tinge of panic to it as I heard what sounded like the clopping of horse hooves approaching me.
“You will know soon enough…” A figure now appeared, blurry and hazy. I could just vaguely make out the shape of two unfurled snow-colored wings.
“What… who… why…” was all I could manage to say before my eyes closed. My breathing slowed, and my body relaxed, the terrible pain that had once gripped me now fading. With one last sigh, I prepared myself for what I thought would be the inevitable embrace of death…
...Except it never came.
Dreams can be wonderful or terrible things. The sweetest of them can leave one refreshed and revitalized in the morning, while the most terrible of them reduce one to a state of fear and pitifulness that lasts well into the day, making them guarded about entering that plain of unconsciousness again the next night.
The dream I found myself in began as the former. I was in a lush field of grain and barley, cool and clear water flowing freely along irrigation depressions that felt smooth to the touch and refreshing to the lips. As I walked down the field, I found an apple orchard that looked as though it had not been harvested in years. Large and round apples hung low on branches that had begun to bow due to the weight, as if begging for someone to come and pluck the delicious fruits off of them. I gladly answered that call, picking one of them from the largest tree I could find. I bit down into it, and immediately did its sweet juices flood my mouth as I delightfully chewed the piece I had bitten.
I entered the orchard, and within it, I found a cabin. It looked warm, safe, and cozy, and without thinking, I entered it, opening the slightly creaking door to reveal that it had been exactly as I imagined it. A roaring fireplace crackled against the far wall that lit up the room, revealing a large bed with fluffy sheets and a large comforter. To my left, an enormous recliner sat on the wooden floors, its warm leather inviting me to come and rest my burdened body upon it. As I sat down, my body sank into the pleasant comfort of its soft embrace, and from there, I found myself unable to move any of my limbs. Not that it was an issue for me; I had no intention of moving anyways.
Suddenly, the door creaked open again. I lazily turned my head to the source of the sound. What my eyes saw next made me blink several times.
In walked a tall, white, horse. Well, not exactly a horse—its features were softer, more elegant, and the way that it walked reminded me more of perhaps what it would look like if humans walked on four legs. It had large, blue eyes that were devoid of any sadness, anger, hatred, or depression; indeed, they looked to be entirely calm and pleasantly happy. A small grin graced its rather short muzzle, and its “mane,” if you could call it that, was a brilliant red that draped over its neck and between its ears. It possessed a pair of large, feathery wings that were folded neatly at its sides, and atop its forehead was a long horn that ended in a sharp tip. On its flank was a marking that almost looked like a drawing, but was too colorful to be a branding; it was an ink stand, with a white quill hanging daintily inside of it. It turned toward me, and with a smile, it softly greeted me. “Hello, Maxim,” it said, its voice sounding feminine.
A talking unicorn-pegasus? What kind of dream was this? “How do you know my name?” I asked, my speech slurring slightly from a combination of tiredness and dull aches that pulsated slightly with every beat of my heart.
“You would think I would know the person I let into my house freely and allowed to eat from my orchard,” she softly explained, sending thoughts of confusion through my weary mind. What was this creature? Why was it not alarmed as I was? Why did it know me? How did it know I had eaten from an apple tree?
Then, the thought struck me: I was dreaming, after all. I relaxed, and looked to it, a slight grin on my face now as well. “Ah, I get it,” I chuckled slightly. “This isn’t real! You are just a figment of my imagination as my body slowly decays! The human mind releases most of the chemical that allows us to dream when it dies, and that is what is happening now! You are not real, and neither am I! None of this is!” I laughed almost drunkenly.
The horse chuckled as she shook her head. “Ah… Maxim… a good attempt at a rational explanation, but an incorrect one nonetheless. I am very real, and so are you. The body you now inhabit is very much your own, just in a different state. You are not dead, Maxim!”
My laughing stopped. “You cannot be serious,” I said half-incredulously.
“I am as serious as can be,” she said smoothly, her voice almost making my ears long for more.
I paused for a moment, taking in what she had said. “I was on the floor covered in my own blood from multiple bullet wounds and broken ribs,” I said, my expression having changed from laughing to seriousness. “Any normal human being would have died long before I did, and it was only through the rigorous training I performed from day to day that allowed me to survive as long as I did. Tell me, how is it possible that one could survive what happened to me?”
The unicorn-pegasus retained her soft expression as she looked toward a stove on the other end of the cottage. “Do you see that teapot?” She asked me. I nodded in affirmation, unsure of where she was going with this. “Watch it carefully.”
The teapot was suddenly surrounded by a pinkish aura! It levitated into the air with ease, and when I looked back to the creature before me, I saw its horn glowing the same color. She floated it to me, and rested it upon my lap for a moment before floating it back to the stove. “Magic,” she said simply.
I was dumbfounded. So many questions ran through my already weary head; so many, in fact, that I could not select one to ask.
“Your body was preserved by a combination of magic and interdimensional transportation. Although the wounds you received inside the café may have been fatal in your world, in this one, they very much are not. In this transitional dimension, it is impossible to die—only to lie dormant,” the horse explained.
“To lie dormant,” I repeated, scarcely able to comprehend what I had just been told. “You mean to tell me that I could remove my head from my shoulders, and yet I would still live on?”
The horse nodded, but a smirk adorned her face this time. “That is, if you ever could do that, Maxim.”
I looked away and began to ponder what all was happening. My body preserved by magic? The journey of my life not yet being finished? Death being an impossibility in this realm? My head spun with every new thought and every fresh question, attempting to find something, anything, to explain it all.
“You said this was a transitional dimension,” I pointed out. “What did you mean?”
“This dimension does not exist in the way that others do,” the horse began. “A transitional dimension is a dimension one must enter in order to enter dimensions different from your own. A kind of doorway, if you will. In these doorways, time, as it is traditionally understood, does not pass. If you wanted to travel from Earth to another planet outside of the purview of what you know to be the universe, you would first have to enter a transitional dimension like this one, but once you did, you would appear at your destination as if no time had passed at all, even though your body registered a waiting time of anywhere from five minutes to five weeks.”
I stared blankly into the unicorn-pegasus’ eyes. “...If that is the case, and this is indeed not a dream, and I am somehow still alive and speaking with a talking horse, and am in a ‘transitional dimension’ heading somewhere away from my own world, that must mean that I am traveling somewhere. Where are you taking me?”
“You are a fast learner!” The horse chirped, her wings fluttering happily in the process. “Not entirely unlike Twilight Sparkle, either! Oh well... that is not important. You are being taken to a dimension not unlike your own, but not entirely similar to it, either. You are being taken to Eternea, the universe of the planet Equus.”
“Equus,” I repeated. “Wait… does that mean that there will be more creatures like... you?”
“Several!” The horse answered, seemingly impressed at my deductions. “Although not entirely like I. Where you are going specifically is a nation-state known as ‘Equestria,’ the home of all ponykind. There, I am known as an ‘Alicorn,’ that is, a pony with both wings and a horn. Only royalty and specially selected ponies ever become such as I, and if and when they do, they are granted the blessing and curse of immortality. You will meet many different creatures in Equestria, and indeed on the whole of Equus: ponies, pegasi, unicorns, gryphons, minotaurs, and more. You will be the first of your kind there, and I will warn you, you will be met with much skepticism and guardedness. But, in time, you will discover why I am sending you there, and what purpose you still have, Maxim.”
This could not be. This had to be a hallucination, some cruel and radical trick that my dying mind was playing on me before it finally ceased to function altogether. I was likely still on the ground in that same café, bleeding out, in pain, and on the cusp of the sweet release of death. “Hmm…” I cracked a grin again after having come to my conclusion. “I am sure I will.”
“You still do not believe, Maxim,” the ‘Alicorn,’ as I learned she was called, stated. “And that is okay. It is not a bad thing to possess a strong will. It is not entirely unlikely that even my little ponies, who are accustomed to magic and its abilities, would not believe me as you also do not. But know that I would not lie to you, Maxim. Your life is not yet over.”
“Sure,” I nodded half heartedly. “Sure.”
“We will speak again another time. Until then, may the maker guide your path,” the Alicorn bid me farewell before stepping away as elegantly as she had entered, creaking the door open once more. She briefly paused at the threshold, however, and looked back at me, hopefulness in her eyes. “Please do say hello to my daughters for me. They are the primary diarchs of the land you will find yourself in, and will be difficult to miss! Also tell Celestia to ease back on the cake!” She said the last part with a giggle. She then left, gently shutting the door behind her.
“Oh I will,” I said to no one in particular, mock sureness in my voice. “We will surely meet again, as well!” I was completely unconvinced at her words.
“But what if she was right?” a voice of doubt sprung up inside my mind, threatening to crumble the reality I was certain I knew.
“No… she couldn’t be…” I thought back, out loud this time. “I am on the floor in a café in Moscow, bleeding and dying. That is the truth.” I then let my already heavy eyelids drop down as my body settled into the recliner more wholly this time. “The... truth…”
I then dozed off, entirely certain that I would awaken in heaven the next morning, to live in glory for the rest of eternity.
This was not the case.
