Mikhail stood before the great map of the world in his study, but for the first time, it felt inadequate. Alexei's message—"Father, he is here, too"—had rendered every border, every naval route, every industrial center on that map terrifyingly obsolete. His entire world order was predicated on a single, absolute truth: that he alone held the master blueprint of the future. Now, he was no longer unique. Worse, his rival had "read a few more chapters."
This "Prometheus," with his talk of making empires obsolete, wasn't a competitor; he was a paradigm shift. His "vacuum energy" was not just a new power source; it was a fundamental challenge to the nature of reality as Mikhail understood it.
He summoned his most brilliant physicists, the heads of the secret atomic research program he had kept under tight control. In a shielded laboratory deep beneath the Winter Palace, he presented them with the scant data Alexei had transmitted.
"Forget fission. Forget steam and oil," Mikhail commanded, his voice sharp with an intensity his scientists had never seen before. "I want you to model a unified energy field that permeates spacetime itself. Assume that it can be accessed, not just by mechanical means, but by a focused, resonant application of human will."
The scientists were baffled, but they were men who had learned that their Regent's "intuitions" were often decades ahead of conventional science. Guided by the theoretical frameworks Alistair Finch remembered from the late 21st century, they worked tirelessly. Within weeks, they had a terrifying, revolutionary theory. This energy field was real. And it responded to consciousness. It was the source of what ancient, less sophisticated cultures had called magic, miracles, or divinity. It was the power to rewrite reality, accessible only to those who knew it was there.
Mikhail now understood. Prometheus didn't intend to give humanity a better battery; he intended to give them the fire of the gods, to trigger a global apotheosis that would result in unimaginable chaos.
Mikhail would not allow it. If godhood was now on the table, he would not let it be distributed to the masses like bread. He would control it. He would forge it. He would build his own gods.
He initiated the most secret project of his reign: The Bogatyr Protocol. Named after the heroic knights of Russian folklore, its purpose was to create a new pantheon of guardians for his empire.
The first candidate was obvious. Captain Dmitri Orlov.
In the deepest level of the laboratory, a new device had been constructed. It was a sphere of polished copper and magnetic coils, humming with contained power. It was not a machine in the conventional sense; it was a Resonance Chamber, a tool designed to help a disciplined mind attune itself to the universal energy field.
Orlov, his loyalty absolute, volunteered without hesitation. He stood in the center of the chamber as the device powered up. Mikhail, from a shielded control room, guided him through the process, his voice calm and steady.
"Do not think of it as power, Dmitri," Mikhail instructed over an intercom. "Think of it as an extension of your duty. You are the shield of the Empire. Feel the threats against it. See the lines of connection between us and our enemies. You are the guardian. You are the watcher. Reach out and become what you already are."
Inside the chamber, Orlov's eyes widened. The world dissolved. He no longer saw walls or machines. He saw a shimmering web of light, a matrix of intent, connection, and possibility. He saw the faint, golden threads of loyalty connecting the men in his Directorate. He saw the angry, jagged red lines of sedition from a nationalist cell in Moscow. He saw the cold, blue thread of his own duty, originating from the man at the control panel. He reached out with his will, his consciousness, and grasped it.
When the power shut down and Orlov stepped out of the chamber, he looked the same. But he was not. There was a new, profound stillness about him, and his eyes saw the world on a level no other mortal could. He was the first of the new gods, a patron saint of security, a perfect, incorruptible guardian. The first Bogatyr.
This was the answer to Prometheus. Prometheus wanted to unleash this power upon the world. Mikhail would contain it, control it, and bestow it upon a chosen few who would serve as the pillars of his new, eternal Russian pantheon. He would elevate his most trusted allies: Alexei, the God of Science and Progress. General Denisov, the God of War and Strategy. Sofia, the Goddess of Wisdom and Governance. Witte, posthumously, as the God of Wealth and Commerce.
He had built an empire of steel and finance. Now he would build a pantheon of flesh and energy.
He returned to his communications room and sent a new, encrypted message to his son in Siam.
"Alexei. The nature of the game has changed. Prometheus offers humanity fire, promising them freedom. It is a lie. Uncontrolled power is not freedom; it is chaos. We will not be the champions of humanity. We will be its guardians. We will give them order. We will build our own gods to protect them from themselves. The Bogatyr Protocol is active. A war of mythology is coming. And we will win."