Paint The Multiverse Red

Arina Timofeyevna’s heart swelled with joy as she stepped off the plane and onto Russian soil once again. A year ago, she had been eager to leave her homeland and explore the world, but after two frustrating trips abroad, she was more than happy to return home. Her first trip to Europe had ended abruptly when she was hospitalized at Marx’s Tomb. The second, and most recent, forced her to come face to face with none other than Rose.

The American election had thrown a wrench into The Red Army’s plans. Ivan was supposed to remain in America after the election to sow dissension amongst the voters, but then something shocking happened.

The useful idiot won.

So, Ivan returned home for other matters and left Arina behind to help manage their post-election work. The work was fine, if dubious, but Arina had enough of America. As she descended the stairs from the plane, Ivan stood tall and proud in his bright red uniform, towering over everyone around him. She smiled as she looked up at him.

“Welcome home, Arina,” Ivan greeted her with a grin. “Did you miss your Motherland?”

She nodded and adjusted her olive uniform. “Yes, Starshy Praporshchik,” she replied quietly.

Her eyes drifted beyond Ivan to the STS “Tigr” vehicle parked nearby and gulped.

“Are… you driving?” She asked Ivan.

He nodded proudly. “I thought I would personally drive you home.”

Arina blanched. Driving with Ivan made for an interesting (and terrifying) experience.

“Wonderful… Starshy Praporshchik.”

—

The STS Tigr rumbled down the streets of Moscow, its sturdy frame providing a comfortable ride for Ivan Stanislav's bulky figure. Arina sat beside him, gripping onto the door handle and bracing her foot against the floorboards as he weaved through traffic.

"Did you enjoy your time in America?" Ivan peered at her through his glasses.

"Yes, Starshy Praporshchik," Arina replied, watching as they whizzed past a stop sign.

As they entered a lower-income housing area, Ivan pointed out a small car with a broken taillight. "Get that car's license number," he instructed. "We'll report it later."

Arina nodded dutifully and directed Ivan towards her family's apartment. He noticed her route and asked, "You take the bus all the way out here and walk alone at night?"

She blushed and nodded. "It's not too bad."

But as they parked (illegally in front of a hydrant), Ivan's concern for her safety showed on his face. Her cheeks grew even warmer under his gaze. To change the subject, she said, "Starshy Praporshchik, I have a favor to ask you."

Ivan raised an eyebrow in surprise. Arina rarely asked for anything. "What is it?" he asked curiously.

Arina took a deep breath, “I want you to teach me how to fight,” she said, her voice trembling with determination.

There was a long silence before Ivan spoke. "Fight?" he repeated, peering over the tops of his glasses. "Arina, that is not a life for you."

“But I see you on the PRIME shows! How many times has Max or Kenny not come to your aid?! Colton… I wanted to think he was a nice person but he’s just like all the rest! Alexei would have helped you. I would have helped you!”

“It is not a good life for you…”

Anger flared in her chest as she pushed herself out of the truck before Ivan could stop her. As he got out next to her. She pointed up at her apartment. “I live up there,” she sulked.

“Hey,” Ivan said quietly, “listen, I have better news. I want to spring the Kulikov’s soon, before years end. We make their lives better, okay, then we think about other things.”

It lightened her mood. She always believed, deep inside, Ivan’s heart would win out. She thought in light of Colton and then KING and everything else that he would have forgotten. She smiled. “Good!”

“Should I come up to see your family?”

“No!” She blurted. “They’re not home is all… but thank you, Starshy Praporshchik.”

Ivan watched from afar as she entered into her apartment, and only then did he get into the Tigr. His mood grew stormy. Kenny Freeman hadn’t been there when Colton took liberties and now, just as a year ago, he was in a tag team with the lad. Distracted and flighty, and now with his family in Russia, Ivan was ready to refocus the youth.

Ivan drove back towards Moscow, leaving chaos in his wake as he picked up his phone.

“Wilhem Kael!” Ivan boomed. “How is America?”

There is a pause before Wilhelm’s low voice replies, “Filthy, filled with ignorance and drug use.”

Ivan growled. He should have stayed in Russia. But now was not the time. “Tell me, Wilhelm. This Multiverse business with comrade Kenny, is it real?”

“Oh yes. Isn’t it appalling? Why, what is the sudden interest?”

Ivan nearly crushed the steering wheel as his eyes turned stormy, “Because I intend to destroy it.”

—

“So you met a cat?”

Randall Schwartz furrowed his brow in confusion as he asked Kenny Freeman about his recent excursion. Kenny nodded in response, and we finally caught a glimpse of the living quarters belonging to the Masters of the Moscowverse. Posters adorned with walls, showcasing their accomplishments such as competing in the inaugural PRIME Tag Team Survivor competition and narrowly losing to the Kings of Popsicle for the Tag Team Championship. Other posters highlighting their victory over old foes Dangerous Mix, just to name a few.

“I sure as hell did, Randall,” Kenny responded, holding his hands up for an approximate measure of the feline fellow’s size. “About this big he was, and he talked and everything.”

“You gotta be kitten me,” remarked the Entertainer with a smirk, a move that was quickly acknowledged with a twisted brow by Kenny.

“I’m being serious, Randall,” Kenny stated, pressing on with the situation at hand. “What’s scarier is, he had other Kennys aiding him like goons.”

“So you’re saying they were some Kenny Goonmen?” asked Randall, his puns only thinly hiding his genuine curiosity. “Or rather, Goony Freemen?”

“On second thought,” Kenny quickly snapped back. “Do me a favor and forget I even used the word goon. Next time I hear you use that in conjunction with my name I uh… I might have to punch ya. In the face. Hard.”

Each bit of that last remark took the Entertainer by surprise, his face reflecting the shock and dismay of Kenny’s threat. The look from his comrade was enough to make Freeman relent, his face softening apologetically.

“I’m sorry, bud,” Kenny said with a sigh. “The past few months have been rough. Between Max’s methods trying to toughen me up for the tag league, and my struggle to get those big wins, my mind has just been all over the place.”

“I know,” Randall replied with a nod, patting his friend on the shoulder. “We gotta get you back on track, though. Only got a few weeks ‘til Colossus, and…” “And I’m tired,” Kenny interjected, glaring at the Entertainer for just a moment. “So very tired, Randall. How many times have I addressed my enemies, bud?” Randall began counting his fingers, trying to determine the right answer before Kenny continued.

“Too many, Randall, and I’ve reached my breaking point. I feel like I’ve been doing everything I can, and it just ain’t enough.”

That last remark was enough to make Schwartz shake his head in utter disagreement.

“Kenny, pal,” he said with his hand still on the junior Red Army member’s shoulder. “I think you just need to look at this from another angle. All these enemies you’ve addressed, but I think your biggest enemy all along is yours--”

The profound wisdom, shocking as it might be coming from the Entertainer, was swiftly interrupted by a knock on the door. The sudden noise nearly jolted the Masters into action, with Kenny opening the door to reveal one of Starshy Praporshchik Stanislav’s soldiers staring them down sternly.

“Starshy Praporshchik will see you in his office.” His words were flat, but his English was passable. His gaze shifted between Kenny, Randall, and then the posters on the wall. “Now.”

—

Ivan Stanislav growled as he reviewed all of Alexei’s reports on the Multiverse in front of Kenny and Randall. They had been standing there for the last twenty minutes. They both knew Ivan was in a foul mood, so they avoided eye contact and looked out the window at the darkening skies of Moscow instead.

Still clad in his crimson uniform, Stanislav rose from his steel desk. “We’ve taken down KING, now it’s time to finish off Kinetic Innovation. Then, we press Rose into The Red Army. We start by defeating her two friends.”

Pointing directly at Kenny and Randall, Stanislav declared, “This whole Multiverse business is a distraction, but I have solution for that!” His mood shifted suddenly as he grinned and turned towards a massive cabinet along the wall. He retrieved a heavily industrialized rifle, encased in gleaming steel and straight out of the 1980s. Walking around the desk, he offered the heavy weapon to Freeman, instructing him to hold onto the sturdy barrel and grip at the back. At the rear of the gun was a case containing some unknown power source (but there was a radioactive symbol present), and the front was an emitter with a cerulean lens at its center. The hammer and sickle of the Soviet Union was, of course, omnipresent.

“Behold, the People’s Portal Projector! The finest minds in Russia have delivered this from me, to you!” Ivan proclaimed proudly as he placed his hands on his hips. “Use this to create a portal, comrade Kenny… and let Starshy Praporshchik Stanislav take a look at this ‘Multiverse.’”

Kenny stared at the weapon he was handed, studying it closely before looking at Randall with a look of both confusion and concern. Randall took one look at the device and simply shrugged in response, unable to explain what the pair were looking at.

Turning his attention to his fearless leader, Kenny realized there was little choice but to follow Stanislav’s orders… and so, the Red Army’s perennial underdog pointed the gun at the wall across from them before pulling the trigger. What followed took all three men by surprise, particularly Ivan, as a circle of green light appeared to carve a hole in the wall… indeed, a hole in time and space, revealing just a glimpse of the other side. Kenny stared into the abyss left by the portal, and the abyss stared back.

“Huh, that’s weird,” Randall stated flatly.

Ivan could only stare, and he mumbled something in Russian. It took a moment for the Russian Bear to rally his senses and come to grips with the truth. But then, he stared down at Kenny and Randall and snarled.

“After you…”

—

The trio’s senses were overwhelmed as they crossed the threshold into the Multiverse. The air was heavy with an otherworldly scent, a mix of metallic tang and earthy musk. Above them, the sky swirled with deep shades of purple, studded with unfamiliar constellations. In the distance, twisted mountains loomed, defying the laws of physics. And beneath their feet, a spongy moss pulsed with each step.

Amidst this bizarre landscape stood an abandoned warehouse, its walls covered in bioluminescent moss that glowed a vibrant green. The large doors hung open, revealing darkness within.

For Kenny and Randall, this was just another strange world in their line of work. But for Ivan Stanislav, it was a shock to his system.

"What the hell..." Ivan gasped behind them. "I thought it was all bullshit!"

A mournful howl echoed in the distance, unlike anything they had ever heard before.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” remarked Randall, a comment that immediately scored the Entertainer a smack in the back of his head by Kenny.

“Look alive, Red Army,” Starshy Praporshchik Stanislav growled and motioned to the warehouse, "We need to get inside." Stanislav commanded urgently. Kenny and Randall wasted no time as they made their way towards the structure. But as Ivan took one step further into the Multiverse, a powerful tremor shook the ground beneath his feet as if the Multiverse itself trembled beneath his boot.

It caught Kenny and Randall by surprise. Did the mere presence of Ivan Stanislav shake the Multiverse? “A really bad feeling about this,” Randall muttered, garnering a glare from Kenny as the journey continued.

Stanislav took another step, and an otherworldly groan emitted from the very earth itself. Ivan looked down at his boot, blinked, and then stared at the gawking Americans-turned-Russian-Communists. “Move it!”

The trio hastily stepped into the warehouse, their footsteps echoing in the vast, empty space. Shafts of pale, otherworldly light filtered through broken slats in the vaulted ceiling and gaps in the corrugated metal walls. Dust motes danced in the beams of light. The floor was littered with debris: rusted metal scraps, broken machinery, and remnants of wooden crates long since decayed. Strange, alien plants had taken root in the cracks of the concrete floor.

“Look,” remarked Kenny, pointing to one of the plants off in the distance. “We’ve got a mean mugger over here.”

Ivan and Randall’s attention was drawn to a peculiar sight as Kenny pointed towards a towering amalgamation of alien plant matter. A towering rose, its petals unfurled to reveal an angry, vaguely humanoid visage that one might call set in a “forever scowl.” Next to her were two mechanical beings, their bodies sleek and intricate with wires and circuits visible through transparent panels.

They were motionless, at least, until Randall snorted and let out a loud sneeze, stirring dust particles around his head. With robotic whirring, the two mechanical henchmen of the scowling rose sprung to life, their emotionless faces locking onto the trio with cold, unfeeling stares.

One robot groaned and skipped its words, “Wh– wh–where you goin’... bruv..?”

While Kenny and Randall looked nervously at one another, Stanislav snarled. “My Red Army demolished you three in on Earth, and we can certainly do it wherever the hell we are now!”

Kudos to Ivan Stanislav for being the leader that he was, but when the rose seemed to scowl even more and several of its plant-like appendages emerged with javelin-like ends, Ivan thought otherwise. He glanced over his shoulder down at the Masters and blanched.

“How could you two идиоты visit these places and stay alive?!” Ivan snarled. “On second thought, retreat!”

Kenny and Randall nodded in agreement as the trio quickly took their leave, retracing their steps to reach an exit marked “EMERGENCY” until a loud, metallic clang stopped them in their tracks. Kenny turned around to see where the commotion came from…finding to his horror a tall, lanky mannequin with a coiled neck standing off in the distance, with the top of the spring revealing a face far too familiar to the young man. Max Kael. Kenny was so distraught over the sight he could not see Randall looking over his shoulder at the creature.

“Oh shit, a Kaelhead,” remarked the Entertainer, but Kenny was too scared to even reply, much less smack him for the comment. Before they could respond any further, the Masters were pulled away by their leader, safely getting them through the emergency exit to the harsh conditions outside. With the trio finally out of harm’s way, Randall turned his attention to Ivan.

“Well, Starsky Pratterstick,” he stated, before Kenny leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Sorry, uh, Starshy Praporshchik, the thing is we usually just bump into weird people, not… whatever the hell that was in there.”

Ivan’s attempt to respond to this, however, was cut off by the sound of another howl, this time much closer…within their range, in fact. The trio looked behind them, where the biggest horror was yet to come.

The creature’s body was covered in a tattered, once-white cosmonaut suit, now stained with grime and blood. The Soviet insignia was still visible on the chest, a haunting reminder of its multiversal origins.

Its helmet, cracked and smeared with dirt, barely contained the beast’s monstrous head. Through the shattered visor, they could see its glowing, red eyes, filled with primal rage. The werebear’s snout pressed against the intact glass in front of it, steaming it with gruff blasts of humid air.

“Is that…?” asked Kenny, finally recovering from the shock of what he was bearing witness to. Beings such as this are always hard to give a precise name, but Randall Schwartz was more than up to the task on this occasion.

“It’s a Space Werebear,” remarked Randall with a knowing smirk. “I’d been reading about this in the Multiverse Monthly. Dangerous creature, never thought we’d actually bump into one.”

With a growl, Ivan pushed past Randall and stood between the two and the werebear. “I am Starshy Praporshchik Ivan Stanislav. Representative of Russian Federation and our Glorious Former Soviet Union! I extend my hand to you, as Russian Bear myself, in friendship!” Stanislav offered his huge Russian hand to the equally huge Space Werebear.

“Oh, I dunno about that,” Kenny said with a mixture of concern and smarminess in his voice. The werebear stared at Ivan’s hand for a moment, as if debating whether to accept the Russian Bear’s gesture of kindness… before reaching out with its paw, shaking hands with Stanislav.

“See?” Proclaimed the Starshy Praporshchik with a smile. “Comradeship is universal, one might even say multiver--”

Ivan’s voice was silenced as the werebear lunged forward, jaws snapping inches from his face. But the ferocious attack was halted by the glass in its helmet, providing just enough of a barrier for Ivan to somehow writhe out of its grasp! Stanislav barreled forward and shoved the beast backward as it let out another loud howl of rage.

“You need silver bullets, Ivan!” Randall blurted.

BAM! BAM! BAM!!

Kenny and Randall jumped as the gunshots rang out, rounds flying into the face and shield of the werebear. It lurched once more before the entirety of its helmet turned to red goo, and it fell lifelessly backward.

Stanislav smirked and replaced his hidden pistol in the back of his pants. “Not silver. Just Russian.”

“You had that all along?!” Kenny gasped. Underfoot, cracks began to form that began beneath Stanislav’s boots and worked its way outward, shaking the very earth.

“Do you think the Multiverse just doesn’t like communists?” Randall mused.

“Shut up!” Ivan growled. “Kenny, get us the fuck out of here!”

Though distracted by the strange cracks and what the mere presence of Ivan Stanislav seemed to have on the Multiverse as a whole, Kenny unstrapped the portal gun from his back and aimed it at the ground below. The green circle carved a nice, neat hole revealing Ivan’s office with a top-down view of his steel desk. Randall leapt through immediately, while Kenny grasped Ivan’s hand and the two of them stumbled into the hole.

As the outsider Stanislav exited the Multiverse and the green hole began to close, the Multiverse trembled.

—

Arina Timofeyvna jumped at the sudden explosion that boomed from behind Ivan Stanislav’s office door. Stanislav hadn’t come into work today (a very strange occurrence) and there was no reason for any kind of sound to come from beyond the door. She whispered into her phone, “I will call you back, Mr. Ruslan…”

She cautiously approached the door, her ears ringing from the blast. With trembling hands, she opened the door to find Kenny Freeman and Randall Schwartz hastily getting up from the floor, while Ivan himself lay sprawled on top of his now-flattened steel desk. As Arina looked up at the ceiling, she caught a glimpse of a strange green circle and a shattering, otherworldly sky, before it winked out of existence.

Stanislav rose from the wreckage and ignored his comrades and walked to the door, with Arina stepping off to the side. He stopped, at the oversized doorway, and turned.

“Boys, whatever we saw in… there… it is not Kinetic Innovation. We destroy them once again, like we always have.” His expression shifted, as if trying to reckon with what he had just been through.

He looked down at Arina, “And Ms. Timofeyevna?”

She blinked up at Ivan curiously. “Yes, Starshy Praporshchik.”

“Why not take rest of the day off?”

And with that, Stanislav turned and mechanically walked out of the office and down the hall.