The wind howled through the Katun Nature Reserve, a bitter, toothy cold that gnawed at Arzhan's cheeks as he trudged along the frozen riverbank. Dawn was still an hour away, the sky filled with clouds and snowfall. At 63, Arzhan Kergilov had spent more than half his life patrolling these mountains, first as a Soviet border guard, then as a ranger. He knew every crevasse, every den, every pit (First hand experience). But today, he knew he wasn't going to like today.

  He adjusted the strap of his double-barrel shotgun. It was loaded with rubber slugs meant to scare off bears, not kill them. Four spare shells rattled in his coat pocket. "For the crows", he'd always joked.

  His Handheld radio crackled. A voice, static and annoyed: "Arzhan, you missed the turn for Karatash Ridge. Again."

  Yuri. His deputy, 40 years younger and twice as loud.

  Arzhan thumbed the receiver. "I'm where the leopard tracks are, towards Belukha. You're the one who can't read a map."

  "Says the man who still uses paper maps," Yuri shot back. "Andrei found another dead elk. Wolves, probably. You want him to bag it?"

  "Leave it. Let the birds eat."

  A pause. Then Yuri, lowering his voice: "You see the news? Japan's parliament's diet with the guests from their 'Special Region'? That Rory Mercury kid man... nine hundred years old... you know how long that is?"

  Arzhan snorted. "Divine Apostles. Sounds like they've been huffing paint."

  "But it's real you old head! If you'd seen how she lugged around a 10 feet axe like easy you'd believe! Though the best part was that cute elf... though lena was rather jealous of how young the elf looked even at the age of 160."

  "Magic. Right. Tell Lena to fix the heater instead of watching the news like a child she's your senior for gods sake , most of the shit you're talking about doesn't change that three elk have been killed near the civilian trail. Now back to overwatch kid, we can talk later"

  He clicked off the radio and kept walking with a huff.

  "Damn kids and their fantasies, this site's been deteriorating ever since the others retired..."

  He sighed and looked around him as the sun rose, the early light trickled weakly through a curtain of swirling snow, casting a shadow on Belukha Mountain. Siberia's guardian stood tall as it always did. Early spring here was a liar, with no thaw. Snow came in fierce sheets, horizontal and needle-sharp, as if the mountain itself was exhaling defiance. The Katun River, which was still chained beneath ice far below, murmured in its sleep.

  At first, Arzhan thought it was a trick of the light, a shimmer in the air ahead, like heat rising off asphalt. But there was no asphalt here and there was most definitely no heat here, just ice, granite and that fuckass snow. He slowed, squinting. The shimmer sharpened into a shape: a towering archway, its edges warping the landscape behind it like a window. Ice crystals swirled around it, stopped by the materializing structure.

  He stopped.

  "What in the..."

  Memories flickered, grainy news footage from Ginza, dragons ridden by some soldiers in antique armor lancing some poor fellows. The battle at the imperial palace and the bloodbath that followed for the attacking side. He'd watched it in a bar in Gorno-Altaysk, half-drunk, thinking, Thank God that's not here.

  But here it was.

  The Gate solidified. White marble, pitted and ancient, polished cleanly and impossibly. The air around it hummed, a sound that felt otherworldly.

  Arzhan didn't run. Not at first. He stood, frozen, shotgun still slung aroung his shoulder. It wasn't fear. It was... annoyance. Of course this would happen in his reserve. He already smelled the hard paper and the stale tobbacco smell of the bureaucratic suits.

  "Just fucking lovely..."

  Then the smell hit him, similar... like the same altai mountain range but later in the spring when all the lower sea leveled snow started melting, the same smell of mildew, grass and the salt of rocks.

  Till he remembered that same night at the bar about those stupid romans, but here he didn't have a defense force with him, the nearest military base was a few hundred kilometers away and he would not be able to hold off an attack however primitive it may be.

  "Chyort," he hisses.

  He staggered behind a boulder, heart slamming against his ribs. The rubber slugs in his shotgun felt absurd now. Should've brought the AK. But the AK was in his cabin, rusting under his bed. Lena had reprimanded him too many times that the AK was overkill.

  Twenty minutes passed. No armored legions. No dragons. No disgusting pig fucks and those thin green gremlins. Just the wind whistling through the Gate's arch.

  Arzhan fumbled with the transceiver on his belt and radioed the station.

  "Lena. Call the FSB. Use Talgat's number on the business card he gave us."

  "The what? Where?" Her voice spiked. "Are you hurt? Is it poachers?"

  "On my desk in the drawer. Just do it."

  He remembered the business card of Talgat Boranbayev, his oldest friend, a Kazakh who'd climbed the KGB's (Now FSB's) ranks by being the cheeky fuck he is. "For when the Chinese cross the border," Talgat had said when he gave it to him. "Or if you feel like it."

  Thirty minutes later, his radio buzzed .

  "Arzhan." Talgat's voice, gravel in a tin can. "You'd better be sober because Xi just visited a month ago."

  "There's a... Like Ginza. Same kind. But nothing's come out."

  A long silence, Then: "Where?"

  Arzhan could already picture Talgat's wide grin

  "Kucherla Valley. Near the east southeast foot of Belukha, there's a river, hard to miss."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "Alone?"

  "Fuck If I know."

  A dry chuckle. Talgat's breath crackled through the radio. "Stay put. Don't touch anything. Don't be a hero. I'll be there by late evening, somewhere around 20:00"

  "Your dumb ass is in Moscow, how will you get here? You usually can't put any military vehicles here, let alone a helicopter. This is a protected zone, unless you want UNESCO on your ass."

  "Watch me."

  The line died.

  Arzhan sat in the snow, staring at the Gate. The cold seeped through his pants, probably because he felt like pissing, so he decided to let off a stream at the foot of the gate for givng him trouble.

  Yuri called again right after arzhan finishes up. "Oblast Governor's office just called, telling us to shut down the reserve! Andrei's freaking out, thinks it's some cult!"

  "It's not a cult."

  "Then what?"

  "Worse-"

  Lena then interrupted

  "Bureaucrats?"

  "That same gate in Ginza. Not Bureaucrats though, Security Service will for sure be there"

  Yuri groaned before saying

  "fucking fuckas-"

  Arzhan shut off the radio.

  Talgat arrived a few hours later. Two helicopters, One Ansat-U One Mi-17, their rotors, settled in the valley near the Gate. Soldiers disembarked the Mi-17 in white winter gear and fanned out in three groups, one group stringing sensor wire and motion cameras, another secured the perimeter while the last took point in setting up two machine gun nests pointing at the entrance of the gate.

  Talgat himself was a bull of a man. He gripped Arzhan's shoulder, hard. "Still alive, brother?"

  "Disappointed?"

  "Always."

  They stood side by side, staring at the Gate. Talgat lit a cigarette in the snow, the smoke snatched away by the wind. "No Romans?"

  "No. Fancy a look yourself?" Arzhan quipped

  "Not today." He nodded at a soldier launching a drone. "We look first via wire guided drone. Then we decide."

  The drone buzzed toward the Gate, vanished. A monitor flickered, the sight of tall mountains far taller and jagged than belukha, masses of pine trees, spruce and oaks filled the land and the gate positioned between three mountains, an incredible spot for a base right outside the entrance, but no sight of any of the wildlife or civilization close by, the place itself looks to be untouched.

  "No dragons," Talgat muttered.

  "Yet."

  "Yet."

  Arzhan watched the soldiers dig trenches. "You'll ruin the reserve."

  "We won't, at best we'll construct a big military logistical hub, call it a 'research outpost.' and make it seem like it, make all transports and activities look to be related to the research and voila, right under everyone's noses."

  "And when the romans come?"

  Talgat flicked his cigarette into the snow. "Hopefully they learned from ginza."

  Arzhan hiked back to his jeep at midnight. The FSB had already strung him up to make excuses for the sudden checkpoints, he and his fellow rangers had turned away locals. Talgat had promised the situation wouldn't affect the rest of the site, he had hoped that would be true.

  At his cabin, he poured a finger of vodka, downed it, and stared at the empty glass.

  Better a bear, he thought. Bears were simple, either you live or die.

  Talgat Boranbayev stood in a Rapid Deploy Modular Command Post near the gate, the footage on the screen showed the Gate silent, empty. The Orlan they had sent had lost battery about at an expected 60 kilometers. He dialed the secure line, fingers steady. The screen split, revealing an expectant President Yevgeny Dmitry Zaitsev at his desk.

  "It's confirmed," Talgat said, his voice gravel. "A Gate. Different from Japan's gate, No hostiles through it, and no known signs of civilization close by."

  Zaitsev leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Alright... and location?"

  "Altai Republic's Katun Reserve, close to the east southeastern foot of Belukha. Katun is a UNESCO protected zone, how do you propose we deal with it?"

  Zaitsev sighed. "Build a false flag operation, See if you can construct a UNESCO compliant research facility. Make the facility an unauthorized zone, I want the facility to run as the military logistics hub for all future special region incursions, I assume all personnel at the facility will be military, no?."

  "Yes and will do, We've already labeled the inbound convoys as ecological survey teams, construction material and research personnel transport. Heavy machinery for 'construction and research purposes.'"

  "Good. Keep UNESCO pacified. And if they want an inside look?"

  "I'll plan for a dedicated research facility, small to run as the false flag operation, maybe for underground deposit research and ecological research. A global priority."

  Zaitsev nodded once. "And the Gate itself?"

  "Handheld Drones only for now. Till we construct a proper cover and building for the gate, there are machine gun nests and trench lines already situated in layers positioned at the front of the gate."

  The president's gaze flicked back to the camera "Quietly, Talgat. We can't afford having the rest of the world discover what we've found, you can see how much they're pressing japan for entry. The special region is a gold mine, don't mess it up."

  The screen went dark. Zaitsev sat back, staring at the empty room. For a moment, his stern mask slipped a faint private smile, a single fist bumped under his desk. Then he straightened his tie and reached for the ringing phone.

  Later

  The Kremlin press hall hummed with tension. Cameras flashed as President Zaitsev took the podium. Reporters and journalists from all around the globe sat in rows. In the back row, a UNESCO liaison sat watched.

  "Mr. President," a News correspondent began, "satellite images show Russian military transport vehicles in the Katun Nature Reserve. Why violate UNESCO's demilitarized status? Is there an event requiring military action?"

  Zaitsev's expression softened, hands spreading in conciliation. "A misunderstanding. Those vehicles transport construction equipment for a climate research facility. UNESCO was notified months ago. Heavy machinery is necessary to build on a permafrost marsh ground."

  The UNESCO liaison scoffed. "We have no record of ordering the construction of this facility."

  "An administrative delay, I'm told. My office will rectify it immediately."

  A journalist raised her hand. "Reports mention armoured convoys. Why the secrecy?"

  "Security protocols. The facility handles sensitive climate data. Sadly, eco-terrorists target such work as seen in the latest Omsk tragedy. We must protect both scientists and the environment."

  The BBC reporter cut in. "Are you sure that russia isn't just hiding a gate similar to japan?"

  Zaitsev's gaze hardened, the room cooling. "Russia honors international agreements. If a Gate appeared here, we would act transparently, with UN oversight." He leaned forward, knuckles whitening on the podium. "But let me be clear: there is no Gate in Altai. If there were, There would be reports of an attack in the altai by those Imperials"

  The UNESCO liaison opened his mouth, but Zaitsev raised a hand. "Next question."

  A military analyst stood up and asked. "Why have there been reports that elements of the 74th Motor Rifle Brigade have been moved from Ukraine and into the central military district, along with telegram reports of old tanks being pulled out of the general reserve, why is that?"

  Zaitsev nodded. "The 74th have done great deeds in the operation against Ukraine, we are simply rotating them out for our great friends in the DPRK. As for the reports of tanks being pulled out of the reserve, the tanks will be repurposed into civilian or industrial uses. Thank you, that will be all."

  With that, the president exited the hall. His phone buzzed, a message from Talgat:

  Graal