Natasha returned home around 7:00 PM.

  After calming her racing heart, she printed the images she had captured on her phone.

  She laid the photos out on her desk and couldn't take her eyes off them for a long while. What had happened was simply unbelievable. Looking back and forth between the two photographs,

  she retraced the events that had unfolded in the square that afternoon.

  

  The incident unfolds the moment I step out of the press conference hall. In the clear blue sky, something like a massive airship suddenly appears.

  As if an invisible giant is casting off a cloak, the craft reveals itself instantly above the cathedral.

  It is a truly marvelous sight. This is not the circular UFO frequently reported from the front lines; rather, it resembles a massive aircraft carrier designed with near-future military technology. There is no other way to describe it but as an "Airborne Aircraft Carrier."

  The entire structure, including the wings, bears an uncanny resemblance to the Butterfly Oxalis.

  A large circular engine sits at the center, with three more engines positioned at the rear.

  Numerous hatches are visible on the underside—clearly designed as exit points for something to emerge.

  Since the craft is hovering directly overhead, I can see nothing but that ominous underbelly.

  After about five minutes, a deafening roar bursts forth, threatening to burst eardrums.

  “Beeeeeeeeeeeee—”

  The sound wave is unbearable. I cover my ears and flee toward the edge of the square along with hundreds of others.

  Strangely, the moment we step outside the square, the noise stops instantly.

  It is a calculated move—a sonic control device designed to clear the center of the square without shedding a single drop of blood.

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  Soon, the hatches on the underside of the craft open.

  A small airship descends. From within, soldiers—or perhaps extraterrestrial beings—step out.

  Their physical structure is human-like, but their faces are hidden behind opaque, transparent helmets.

  About a hundred soldiers in black attire form a perfect square formation.

  The weapons they carry look similar to rifles, but the muzzles flare out wide like trumpets.

  Only later do I realize these are not for bullets, but weapons that fire focused sound waves. It is clear they have not come to kill.

  Once the perimeter is established, the soldiers at the four corners of the formation toss silver spheres into the sky.

  Those spheres defy gravity, floating in mid-air and connecting to one another to form a translucent membrane. It is a localized energy shield.

  And then—the most incomprehensible thing happens.

  A soldier places an ordinary chair in the middle of the square. Another small airship descends, and an Asian woman, appearing to be in her 40s, steps out and takes a seat. Beside her stands a figure who looks like an officer in a vigilant stance.

  She is elegant, intellectual, and appears entirely unfazed by the situation. I

  n one hand, she holds a book: Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. She begins to read, sitting calmly in her chair.

  The scene defies logic. While our military and police are pushed back by the sonic barrier and bullets bounce off the shield, she quietly turns the pages amidst the chaos.

  As I frantically record all of this, someone grabs my arm.

  “Natasha, come this way!”

  I turn my head to find Vadim standing there. He is deployed on a mission to defend the capital. His eyes hold the same expression from our childhood in Siberia. The way he looks at me is the same—full of affection.

  “Vadim, I’m a journalist. I have to record this. I need to get closer. Help me,” I say urgently.

  He hesitates for a moment but answers in a calm voice despite the confusion. “Natasha, I understand. But for now, stay back.”

  At that moment, a massive hologram explodes into view behind the seated woman. Giant letters flicker in the air like fire.

  “The very fact that we are here proves your failure. The balance of power is already ours. Our demands are as follows:

  All military forces on all fronts must withdraw. A global press conference must be held here. If this is refused, the cathedral will be demolished immediately.”

  The moment I read the word ‘demolish,’ a cold fury surges within me. This cathedral is our history, our soul.

  “How dare they…”

  Natasha is incensed by the spacecraft’s use of violent methods, and a flash of fury surges through her at the realization that their target is the cathedral.