Chapter 3254: Gate of Time and Space (Part 2)

"You tried to stop all this from happening, but it was not thorough, and you just delayed the accident."

"Someone did not listen to your advice and dismissed you because of the war. You were not brought in until the accident happened. The disaster was inevitable, as you saw before your eyes."

""

Listening to the slow narration beside him, and looking at himself not far in front of him, he had finally walked into the isolation room. Malashenko, who could almost guess what would happen next, couldn't help but follow.

And just like the scene when Nikolai died before, everyone present turned a blind eye to Malashenko's existence, as if only air was passing by.

In the isolation room, next to the seat.

Kirill, who was wearing a diving suit, had a festering face, bloodshot eyes, and no blood on his lips. He was as pale as a living corpse.

Seeing his father enter this house where anyone who stepped into it would die, Kirill hurriedly stood up and wanted to drive his father out. Before he could speak, he saw his father slowly took out a small box from his arms and walked forward step by step.

"It used to belong to me, to that great Patriotic War. Now I give it to you, Comrade Kirill, my son. Because of your outstanding performance in this disaster relief mission, you have won supreme honor for the motherland and your parents, family, and comrades. You are the eternal pride of your parents."

Looking at the Soviet Hero Medal taken out of the small box by his father and worn on his chest.

Kirill raised his trembling and festering hand and gently stroked it. He never thought that he would be able to receive such an honor one day. In a trance and trembling, he only heard his father, who was already trembling all over, slowly speaking.

"Are you really going? Kirill, your mother and I only have you. You are our last son. I-I-I really-"

Malachenko, who had not intended to say such words, could not control his emotions in the end and could not help but blurt out to his son, but he could not continue speaking halfway.

Since childhood, Kirill, who understood his father better than his brother, understood his father's responsibilities, obligations, and difficulties, slowly raised his hand.

He wanted to reach out and wipe away his father's tears, but looking at his hands that had been ulcerated to the point of being unrecognizable, he hesitated in the air for a while, and finally Malachenko firmly stretched out his hands and held his son.

"I have thought about this question, Dad, but not for too long."

"My comrades fought bravely, one after another, fearlessly. They fell one after another, but rushed forward one after another. The disaster was not caused by us, but it must be ended in our hands."

"Why can my comrades go, but I can't go, Dad? Is it because they are the sons of workers and peasants, and I am the son of the marshal? That's not the case. The ideals we fought for all our lives and were willing to sacrifice our blood and even our lives for are not like this. It should never be forgotten."

"Besides, I won't live long. I will use my last life to illuminate all this, Dad, just like countless martyrs have done, just like my name and Kirill."

There were no more words, only the father and son saluted each other in sobs. They were not only father and son, but also comrades-in-arms and comrades.

The marshal was finally taken away from the isolation room, with the radiation that penetrated deep into his bones and could not be washed away.

Kirill, wearing the Order of the Hero of the Soviet Union awarded by his father, has also put on a diving suit and helmet, holding a flashlight, and went with two accompanying comrades to carry out the last mission that can stop this unprecedented disaster.

And there will be no return, along with the glory that once belonged to his father and the Great Patriotic War.

Sitting on the bench in the corridor that no one cared about, Malashenko, who was speechless with mixed feelings in his heart, looked at the ceiling above his head with his eyes blankly.

When he realized that someone who could see him sat down next to him, he spoke quietly again.

"Why do you want to show me these? Why?!"

"Because if I show you these now, it's not too late. You are the only one who is capable and willing to change the final result, at least I think so."

"I am looking forward to what choice you will make, but it's not over yet, I still have something to show you."

""

If you don't hear Malashenko's refusal, just take it as a default.

The scene changed again as time traveled. No specific time was needed. Everything in the bedroom of the home that was so familiar that it couldn't be more familiar was completely presented in front of Malashenko.

"I'm sorry, Comrade Marshal, we tried our best, but Madam..."

"You know that the collapse of will and spirit cannot be cured by modern medicine. I'm sorry."

"I know, thank you, please give us some time."

Creak--

The bedroom door was gently pushed open, and the doctor who walked into the room passed by the door. It was Malashenko who was already in the late stage of cancer. His haggard and withered face was no longer as energetic as before.

The successive blows and the torture of illness in his later years have torn this man who was infinitely feared by all kinds of enemies and could not be defeated by even the cruelest Nazis into pieces. There is not much left before the final collapse.

Ignored once again, Malashenko watched himself, who was terminally ill in his later years, dragging his heavy and slow steps to sit by the bedside, slowly holding the hand of his lover who was already a candle in the wind on the sickbed.

He stayed with this lifelong love until the moment of the final end.

"Is it you, dear?"

"It's me, I'm here, Natalia."

The wife's call, which slowly opened her eyes, was answered. Looking at her husband who was close at hand and within reach, Natalia, who only had her husband as her only relative, did not cry.

She just leaned on the head of the bed and slowly raised her other hand, gently wiped away the tears from the corners of her lover's eyes, and smiled and slowly spoke.

"Can you hug me again, dear?"

Malashenko, whose tears were wiped away and flowed again, nodded, reached out to hold his lover's neck, slowly put him in his arms, and listened to the last words of his wife who leaned on his chest to stay with him for life.

"I used to hate it, dear. Because it took away my parents, my brothers and sisters, my home, my childhood, my two children, and it was even about to take away my husband, everything I had."

"But now, I am grateful to it. Because it took a lifetime to let me see how great and unyielding the man I love all my life is."

"I am very grateful, dear, grateful to meet you in my already miserable life."

"If there is an afterlife, my choice will not change. Go the same way, do the same things, and then spend a lifetime loving the same husband."