Political and religious crisis of 2072–2077 in Petersburg, caused primarily by the fact that the ideals of the "Lemons" and the "Apples" were radically opposed and could not coexist in one city, unfolded as a series of pogroms, everyday discrimination on religious grounds, escalating tensions on both sides, as well as several murders and terrorist attacks. As a result of the crisis, 39 people were killed, three of whom were children, and another 382 were wounded. The number of victims and casualties grew year by year in geometric progression.

The bloody peak of the conflict came on 28 August 2077, when early in the morning a group of radical Lemons numbering 782 people, armed with spiked bats, Molotov cocktails and melee weapons, left their quarters and, chanting slogans from the Book of Will and Chaos (the main scripture of their faith), headed towards the Prince Vladimir Cathedral, where a service was being held for the Feast of the Dormition of the Theotokos, gathering about 2,500 people. The security at the cathedral was not particularly large — only 390 members of the people's militia, armed with melee weapons.

When the group of Lemons reached the cathedral, they almost immediately engaged in armed confrontation with the militia, resulting in the deaths of 203 militiamen and 329 Lemons, with the Lemons winning in the end. The remnants of the militia hastily retreated towards their headquarters to call for reinforcements. The Lemons won themselves some time and moved closer to the cathedral. Then came the worst — some of the Lemons blocked the doors, while others began throwing Molotov cocktails at the cathedral. Within minutes, the cathedral was ablazing. By the time reinforcements arrived, the Lemons had already fled, and the cathedral was burning like a torch, spreading fire to the square and nearby buildings.

By noon, the fire was contained, but all the parishioners had already perished. Among them were families of militiamen, elderly people and children who had come to the service. This became a turning point. The news spread through the city, and the entire city militia, in righteous anger, marched towards the Lemons’ quarters. The streets of the district were already blocked by barricades and ready for defence. The militia sealed off all exits from the district and issued an ultimatum—to hand over the perpetrators and all leaders of the community for trial within one hour, otherwise the entire district would be turned upside down. The ultimatum was ignored. Consequently, at 13:07, 2,034 militiamen and about 3,000 people from the spontaneous people's militia entered their district. The cleansing lasted until deep into the night. Most of the active Lemons and their leadership were either captured or killed, including Nikita Tsaruk. All those captured were transferred under guard to one of the old business centres, and all militiamen as well as volunteers from the militia were deployed to the district for round-the-clock patrols.

On 1 September 2077, after lengthy trials and negotiations, the City Council decided to expel all leaders of the Lemons and all residents of the district from the city, with a ban on approaching the frontier settlement of Pulkovo. The majority of the city supported this decision, although some found it too cruel. Priests in particular spoke out, reminding that collective punishment contradicts Christian commandments, but their voices were drowned out by anger and the fear of a new terrorist attack.

On 2 September, all residents of the Lemons’ district were informed of their forced eviction. And on 4 September, 33,806 people from the district were escorted under guard to the settlement of Pulkovo. In Pulkovo, 37,981 people had gathered, ready to leave (including the Lemons’ leadership and some sympathisers). They were allocated 678 horses and 339 light carts for their belongings. That same evening, all these people set off on a long journey south. Once beyond the line of sight, they made a decision — to head for Moscow, the heart of old Russia, where they would build a better society, free from liberals and Chaos.

That is how Petersburg lost its Lemons and became a unified whole.

After Vanishing, St. Petersburg faced three problems: There is no food, no meaning to life, and a split in society. Two have been solved, and the third has only made matters worse.

YABLOCHNIKI

The Yablochniki, aka Apples, were followers of the liberal ideas. But even such a seemingly secular society could not contain itself after vanishing without faith. More and more people started visiting churches or mosques, but the latter in much smaller numbers. The new priests, many of whom shared liberal values, raised the issue of church reformation. And already in May 2033, the Holy Synod was convened, designed to decide the fate of Christianity in St. Petersburg.

This year, the St. Petersburg Church of Jesus Christ was born. A new, more liberal and progressive branch of Orthodoxy, strongly inspired by Protestantism. One of the main doctrines of the new faith was the rejection of such a thing as "holy", because all people are equally close to God, and Church Slavonic and long services disappeared in the new church, replaced by ordinary Russian and long sermons with discussions, and also 4 principles of "Sola" were adopted, except for the principle of "Solus Christus". Warm relations were also established with the Islamic community of St. Petersburg.

By 2072, politicized and actively religious Yablochniki had settled in the East of Vasilyevsky Island and at the end of Maly Prospekt near the Vladimir Cathedral and Tuchkov Buyan on Petrogradka. Yablochniki almost completely took over St. Petersburg State University and Mining University, and at least 80% of the city sympathized with them.

LIMONKI

Limonki, aka Lemons, in turn, were followers of the ideas of Eduard Limonov — ultranationalism and Bolshevism in one bottle. In 2034, with the death of their former leader, Mikhail Axel, who died of tetanus, the group, mostly consisting of single young men, found a new leader in the form of Nikita Tsaruk. Before vanishing, he graduated from school just a year ago, but it was he who became the creator of a new, albeit rather strange, but what can I say, a very strange religion.

The whole religion was based on a binary — Will and Chaos, and the whole world is just a battlefield between Belobog (Will) and Chernobog (Chaos). There is no heaven or hell, there is only the eternal struggle for the existence of the Will. The will is masculine. Strength, order, rationality, collective and traditions, as well as Russia itself. And Chaos is feminine. Emotions, corruption, weakness, selfishness, as well as the West and liberals who are killing Russia. And vanishing was an attempt by Chaos (Chernobog) to erase volya and Russia forever. But Russia will rise up and build a new state of Will. Also, this binary gave rise to a very rigid social hierarchy — men at the top and women at the bottom. But even so, women joined Lemon communities.

Their communities occupied a part of Petrogradsky Island between Kamennoostrovsky Prospekt, Roentgen Street and the Petrogradskaya and Petrovskaya embankments, excluding the Cathedral Mosque. Their neighborhoods were very isolated. They were busy breeding horses on the Vyborg side.

THE REST OF THE CITY

The problem of hunger became very clear already in the first winter. There wasn't much to eat, so they ate fish and mixed in needles from nearby forests. But the following year, agriculture began to develop rapidly. Thanks to the botanical garden and the zoo. Since the beginning of spring, land has been cleared for planting where Moskovsky Prospekt used to be and where Vosstaniya Square was. In the first year, only potatoes were planted, and from the following years fruit trees and berries from the botanical garden gradually began to appear, the gardens of which were laid out on farms in Agricultural areas. By the 2070s, it was even possible to achieve the appearance of frost-resistant citrus fruits and cherries, although not particularly large and excessively acidic.

Most of the adapted farm animals from the zoo were released into the northern forests. But the household began to breed on the Vyborg side. Horses, goats, sheep, fallow deer, deer, moose and rabbits — all of them provided St. Petersburg with food of animal origin, and horses also provided transportation.. And the maladjusted animals remained in the zoo as curiosities to please the people.

The first colonies began to appear in areas of agricultural land. Small villages, the total number of which reached 50,000 by 2072. Most of them were in the south, but there were also logistics points in the north for communication with Vyborg, which came under the jurisdiction of St. Petersburg. By 2072, it was almost possible to overcome hunger.

But it was not possible to overcome the contradictions between Apples and Lemons.

June 7th 2028, St. Petersburg, Palace Square , 18:39

The hum of tens of thousands of voices was heard over the square. The largest rally of the non-systemic opposition gathered almost the entire possible political spectrum. From the liberals of the Yabloko Party to Limonov's radical followers from the Other Russia party. The crowd was uneven, but they had one goal — to achieve the repeal of the new "Act on the restriction of non-systemic political entities." In fact, the ban on all non-systemic opposition.

"This law is a crime against Russian Democracy, of which there is already too little left." Yavlinsky shouted from the podium, and the liberal, and largest, part of the crowd agreed, raising even more noise.

"They want to limit our fight for Russia! And what else can you expect from traitors to Russia!" Axel, one of the leaders of the Other Russia party, shouted, and his part of the crowd continued to shout slogans.

OMON police stood before the Winter Palace. Their sole purpose was to wait — to wait for anyone attack them, because every aggressive move aimed at them considers an attack — so they could finally shut down what they saw as a circus. Their plan was to arrest a few dozen, or even a few hundred, activists and just chase the rest home.

June 7th 2028, St. Petersburg, Palace Square, 19:30

And that moment has come. One group of National Bolsheviks began to attack OMON, insulting them. At some point, one of them pushed one of the security officers, knocking him to the ground. This was the trigger for the beginning of the end of this rally.

In a couple of minutes, everything escalated into a large-scale strike. The crowd crushed a small group of security forces, continuing to knock them to the ground. Even tear gas did not stop the protesters.

"The base! The base! We need backup! There are not enough of ours!" The commander of the security forces shouted into the radio.

"We can't contact the other groups. Smolny has most of them, but they don't respond."

"Fuck!" The commander took another channel and shouted into the radio on the police frequency, "Urgent! We need help! Send help!" The police headquarters was silent. The commander swore again. "What the fuck is this? Why the fuck isn't anyone answering?"

Within a couple of minutes, the security forces were shoved into paddy wagons and the protesters, already enraged, began to spread out along the avenues, chanting their slogans and replenishing their ranks. It seemed like a victory. The beginning of the revolution against the dictatorship and traitors of Russia. But they weren't happy for long. Heading towards Smolny, the protesters reached the Anichkov Bridge and saw something they did not expect. Directly behind Fontanka was not a city, but swampy fields and small groves.

A wave of chaos swept through the city. Remnants of the police We had to step back towards the administrations of the districts. The protesters stormed the administration, frightened people looted shops.

It wasn't until the next day that they managed to brought the chaos under contol. The administration went to cooperate with the protesters at night, and the next morning, former protesters were restoring order in the city.

January 10, 2030, Smolenskoye Cemetery, evening

The funeral procession went for almost an hour to the Smolensk Principality. One of the main political figures of St. Petersburg, Grigory Yavlinsky, died of a heart attack yesterday. The funeral was scheduled at the Smolensky Cemetery with a funeral service by a Priest. Several thousand people came to the funeral with burning sticks Instead of candles, since all the candles had already run out, and flowers to put them on a fresh grave.

The coffin, which was very simple and made of pine planks, was carried towards a grave dug in the frozen ground on their hands. Yavlinsky's closest associates and a priest in a dark cassock stood around the grave. The coffin, a little carelessly, was lowered into the pit, where it was supposed to remain forever.

When the coffin was at the bottom of the grave, Father Michael of the Cathedral of the Savior on Spilled Blood cleared his throat and began to read the funeral prayer. Many in the crowd bowed their heads. Recently, many people in St. Petersburg have turned to faith. Everyone needs hope, and faith could give it. Yavlinsky himself has been going to church a lot in the last year. For Sunday services and confessions.

The priest finished his prayer after a few minutes and crossed himself. The workers standing next to the grave were told that it was already possible to bury, and in just four minutes the coffin disappeared under two meters of earth. And when the tombstone was installed, flowers from the botanical garden fell to the ground. And there was an inscription on the tombstone.: "Grigory Yavlinsky is buried here. A Freedom fighter."

Cruiser Aurora, same Day

The flagship of the Revolution, consecrated only by torches, stood frozen by the Neva River. Two years ago it was a museum, but now it was already the headquarters of the National Bolsheviks. They chose this place back in September 2028, after the "Yablochniki", as they were contemptuously called by the Nazis, took over the Peter and Paul Fortress.

The mess was smoky and dark, as there were only kindling from the lighting, but it was quite clear that this would not interfere with the meeting. There were at least 10 bottles of Moonshine on the tables, which was distilled from potatoes grown in what used to be the Moscow railway station. There were about 30 people in the room, and Mikhail Axel, who was already pretty drunk, was sitting at the head of the table.

"Finally, this liberal carrion is dead," Axel swayed on his chair and gulped down a glass of moonshine, "The Yablochniki are now without their "good fighter for freedom," who only talked about "rights," "freedom," and all sorts of rubbish," Mikhail mimicked Yavlinsky's manner of speech, as he often liked to do with his political opponents. "Now he's dead. And the yablochniki will simply disintegrate. Ha! These degenerates don't even have a normal idea, the only thing that kept them together was that old man," he threw out the last words in disgust and covered his mouth with his hand, laughing drunkenly. "It's not even interesting. Without the yablochniki, we will quickly capture the whole city." In the end, he laughed out loud, followed by drunken laughter from the rest of the room.

"Well, well." Axel raised the already refilled glass, "For a new Russia without the old Liberals!" Mikhail made a toast and drained his glass in an instant.

"For a new Russia!" the others supported the toast, filling the Aurora's night silence with their drunken screams.

01:03 08/06/2028 Japanese Sea 213 kiilometers from Vladivostok

Admiral Prasolov stood on the bridge, looking out over the dark expanse of water. Today's joint naval exercises with the People's Republic of China and the Democratic People's Republic of Korea had concluded a few minutes ago. Now they had to return to port together, say goodbye to the Chinese and Korean ships, which needed to refuel, and then came Prasolov's least favorite part of the job: paperwork. Sure, writing reports could be left to a secretary in the staff department. But this was a different matter.

"Damn it," Prasolov cursed, anticipating this most tedious task, and walked off the bridge to his office. There lay a bottle of cognac his wife had given him for his promotion to admiral. And for a year now, the bottle had been sitting in the admiral's quarters on the destroyer Varyag.

Prasolov entered the admiral's quarters, locking the door behind him. The Admiral's office was quite well furnished. To the right stood a high-quality, heavy wooden desk, on which sat a work computer, a landline phone, a couple of bronze figurines, and a family photo. It had been taken the previous year, almost immediately after his promotion. It featured him, 52-year-old Ruslan Prasolov, his 49-year-old wife Elena Prasolova, and their two sons, 20-year-old Grisha and 13-year-old Valera. Next to the desk stood two more large cabinets and a grandfather clock with a pendulum. Opposite, a sofa and three chairs stood around a table piled high with papers: this was where he usually received those who brought him reports. He approached the cabinet, retrieved a glass and a bottle of cognac, walked over to the desk, cleared a small space of papers, and placed the glass there. He poured about a quarter of the glass and took a sip.

Prasolov sighed heavily and looked at his watch. 01:16. The warmth from the alcohol spread through his body, making him even more sleepy. It was at least another three hours to Vladivostok, so he could take a nap. The admiral closed his eyes and drifted off to the kingdom of Morpheus.

04:56 08/06/2028 Eastern Bosphorus

Following a loud knock on the door, a worried voice came from behind it:

"Comrade Admiral, may I speak?" The voice faded, waited a few seconds, and then came again, even louder, accompanied by a louder knock. "Comrade Admiral, you need to see this!"

Prassolov opened his eyes and looked at his watch. It was almost five o'clock in the morning. He tore himself sleepily from his chair and walked to the door. Upon opening it, he saw a worried, frightened sailor.

"What's wrong?" Prassolov asked.

"V-Vladivostok has disappeared..." the sailor stuttered. "Come up to the b-bridge."

"What do you mean, disappeared?"

05:01 08/06/2028 Eastern Bosphorus

"Comrade Admiral, we arrived here 16 minutes ago," Captain First Rank Shevtsov said haltingly. "We've been unable to establish visual or radio contact with the port this entire time."

Prasolov stood on the bridge and felt his insides grow cold. He'd already peered through his binoculars several times, but nothing. The largest city in the Far East, his small homeland, had simply vanished. The sun's rays licked the cliffs covered in dense, dark forest. This couldn't be true. He glanced slightly to the left and saw the Russky Bridge. Or rather, only half of it: it ended right in the middle of the strait.

The naval ships were crowded together. 13 ships stood in the middle of the strait. Aimless. Prasolov didn't even want to imagine what was happening there. He had enough of what was happening in his soul. His heart had long since sunk into his heels and shattered into many pieces. What happened to his family? Are they alive or...

Shevtsov, seeing the admiral's state, tried to shake him out of his self-destructive thoughts.

"The only settlement we see in the area is on Russky Island. I think we should go there."

The admiral sighed heavily. He needed to sort this out now. He was a soldier, and his duty was to protect his people. The rest of them.

"Send out the order. Head for Ajax Bay."

05:17 08/06/2028 Ajax Bay

The ships dropped anchor. Prasolov stood on the deck and watched as the commanders led their sailors ashore. Several thousand sailors were already gathering on the shores: three thousand Russians, 700 Chinese, and 300 North Koreans. Prasolov nervously wiped his forehead with his sleeve. What should he say? That everything had disappeared? That they no longer had families? He swallowed hard and began to speak.

"Comrades. Something happened today... Something I cannot explain. You can see for yourself that on the other side of the strait," Prasolov pointed toward where Vladivostok should have been, "there is nothing else. Only dense forest." Prasolov coughed, peering into the sailors' faces. "We need to survive. Thank God the island wasn't affected by this... Whatever it was. To ensure our survival, I order... No, I ask. We need to establish order on this island. I ask you to work together and occupy all key facilities on the island." Prasolov pointed toward the University and then, toward the village. "The residents won't wake up for several hours. And I ask you not to disturb them for now."

Prasolov sighed and waved his hand toward Shevtsov, who stood next to him, indicating that it was now Shevtsov's turn to speak. Prasolov gave him his seat and walked away from Commander Shevtsov, who spoke with increasing energy, albeit with a note of alarm in his voice.

Prasolov went into his office, sat down in his plush chair, and dropped his face to the desk. What happened to the world... He sank more and more into defeatist thoughts, dropping tears onto the surface of the table.

23:13 08/06/2028 Ajax Bay

Prasolov sat in his office, staring at a photograph of his family. He couldn't cry anymore. He was simply devastated. Shevtsov saw this and took charge. He had come in an hour and a half ago, explaining that the university had been closed, classrooms converted into storage facilities, and all the locals forced into public labor. All transportation and fuel on the island had been requisitioned, and there was only enough food for six weeks, but since the forests had recovered, there should be animals there, and they could catch sea creatures from the sea. Shevtsov spoke with such enthusiasm, as if nothing had happened. As if their homes hadn't disappeared, as if their families hadn't disappeared. As if everything hadn't disappeared.

Prasolov sighed and picked up a bottle of cognac. He closed his eyes as he brought it to his lips, thinking it would help him somehow isolate himself from everything that was happening. But even after drinking the whole bottle, it didn't help. The warmth from the alcohol spread through his body, along with a feeling of absolute hopelessness. The intoxication developed gradually, but within half an hour the admiral felt like he was already drunk. The thoughts in his head had almost completely dissipated. Except for one – the most cowardly and pitiful. Prasolov closed his eyes, but the thought only grew louder.

He gave in. The admiral picked up the first piece of paper he came across and wrote a few words on it. "I transfer the admiral's powers to Captain First Rank Mikhail Konstantinovich Shevtsov." He signed it, folded the paper in four, and put it in his jacket pocket. Prasolov rose from his chair and walked to the cabinet where the safe was. Opening it, he found his award-winning P-96M pistol. He took it and placed it in his hand.

Prasolov sighed and placed the pistol between his leg and the belt of his trousers. As he left the office, he encountered a couple of tired sailors who, of course, saluted him, but halfheartedly. But it was clear they had something the Admiral no longer had. Hope. Reaching the stern, he took a deep breath of sea air.

His jacket and cap quickly fell to the floor, and Prasolov climbed over the railing. The sea breeze blew in his face, cooling him. Soon, the metal cooled his temple. The Admiral took his last deep breath and pulled the trigger. A loud shot rang out over the sea, and his lifeless body fell into the sea.

And the dark waves took him forever.

The fuel crisis in Russia in 2026 forced the government to rush Gazprom to build a large oil refinery on Sakhalin in order to provide fuel to the country, whose many huge oil refineries were damaged or disabled. Gazprom's plans to start construction of an oil refinery on Sakhalin in 2030 had to be implemented earlier. The first pile was driven into the ground on April 13, 2027 near Nogliki.

In June 2028, more precisely, between June 5 and June 10, an economic forum dedicated to the development of Sakhalin was to be held in the Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk. Several important events took place on these significant dates. On the first day of the forum, the first grocery stores Pyaterochka and Perekrestok, owned by X5 group, were officially opened. And on the second day, June 6, Wildberries announced the opening of its new warehouse with an area of 30,000 square meters. Also the construction of the Nogliki refinery has moved to the stage of equipment installation.The forum was attended not only by ordinary managers of companies, but even the heads of Gazprom and Wildberries themselves, Alexei Miller and Tatiana Kim, as well as the deputy head of Sberbank — Taras Skvortsov. The main part of the forum was to be a joint presentation by representatives of large companies, where they would tell reporters about their plans for Sakhalin. But unfortunately, this performance, scheduled for June 8, failed due to Vanishing.

The chaos and establishment of the Russian emergency administration of the Far East, which followed the Vanishing, prevented the implementation of the companies' plans. And the subsequent mutiny of the 68th Army Corps further damaged the companies. Except for one thing — Sberbank. Taras Skvortsov, a very far-sighted man, saw that the current administration was dragging Sakhalin down and certainly would not allow it to develop. Therefore, Sberbank became the only company that supported the rebellion of the 68th Army Corps. Sberbank also signed the Noglik agreements with the Duma of the Sakhalin Oblast, but without Gumirov. After all, the agreements between the Duma and Sberbank consisted in the fact that Sberbank received very large economic benefits from the new Sakhalin government in exchange for Sberbank's commitment to complete the unfinished Nogliki refinery and subsequently establish oil trade. The mutiny succeeded, the REAOF (Russian Emergency Administration of the Far East) surrendered, and in 2031, on January first , the Free Sakhalin Republic was proclaimed.

The Nogliki refinery was half completed — most of the equipment was, of course, but it was not installed. Meanwhile, Japan has been experiencing severe fuel economy for a year due to the lack of well-established supply chains. And that's when Sberbank entered the Japanese market. Sberbank has long ceased to be just a bank. After the proclamation of the republic, the complex sector of the oil and gas industry came under his control. On June 18, 2031, the first agreement was signed between the Japanese government and Sberbank. Sberbank pledged to supply liquefied natural gas to Japan in exchange for machinery, medicines and specialists for Sakhalin and Sberbank. The construction of the Nogliki refinery was completed on May 20, 2033, and production was successfully launched on June 3. Trade with Japan was going as well as possible, and Sberbank was strengthening its position in Sakhalin. Now it was not only a bank and an oil company, but also a supplier of foreign goods, including machinery, and a construction company, as well as the largest employer in the country. With the steady increase in income and the stabilization of the situation on Sakhalin, faith in the future appeared, which is why the baby boom began. Over the next 50 years, Sakhalin's population grew by 200,000 people due to natural growth alone. Many Japanese specialists and their families also moved to Sakhalin, and later (after the 2050s) ordinary Japanese workers.

Sakhalin's economy continued to grow, as Japan still needed fuel, which Sakhalin could provide. And along with Sakhalin's economy, Sberbank also grew. In 2058, Sberbank absorbed the remaining large Sakhalin businesses, growing into a state within a state. Also in 2069, the Kuril Agreement was concluded with Japan. Under pressure from Sberbank, the Sakhalin Duma decided to lease the low-profit Kuril Islands to Japan indefinitely. This decision was received ambiguously by the public, but the scandal was hushed up by new economic successes.

By January 2091, the Sakhalin economy had made a big leap forward — GDP had already reached about $ 90 billion (the value of 2020), and the population had reached almost one million, with about 260 thousand of them Japanese, and about 70 thousand more descendants of mixed marriages. The Japanese mostly settled in the southern regions of Sakhalin, while the Russians settled in the northern regions, where Sakhalin's industrial heart was located. By that time, Sberbank's headquarters were located in Nogliki, which had grown to a fairly large city. It was in 2091 that a significant event happened for Sakhalin — the economies of Sakhalin and Japan grew so close together that the issue of Joining Japan was put on the agenda. Most of the Duma was against it, as this would lead to the liquidation of the Duma itself. But Sberbank was all for it. And since about 50% of the working-age population were somehow employed at Sberbank, which put pressure on its employees, and another 26% of the population were Japanese, the outcome of the referendum was a foregone conclusion. On April 26, by popular vote, 72% of the population participated, 78% were in favor, and 22% opposed. As a result, on May 1, the Sakhalin Government resigned and handed over control to the Japanese administration. And Sakhalin's golden age continued.

PS. I'm writing this at the damn hour of the night, mistakes are possible. I'll write a continuation, but this afternoon or tomorrow.