The Last Tsar

"The more you fear something happening, the more likely it is to occur"

~ Murphy's Law

---

The chill of October was already creeping into St. Petersburg, mingling with the tension that had settled over the capital. The announcement of the Okhrana purge had sent ripples through the administrative circles of the Empire, and now, the storm was beginning to take shape. Nicholas sat in his study at the Winter Palace, a stack of reports from Fedorov already awaiting his review. The young head inspector had wasted no time. Teams were dispatched at dawn to comb through Okhrana's files, interrogate key personnel, and sieze suspicious documents.

Nicholas leaned back on his chair, his fingers drumming against the desk. He knew the scale of what he had unleashed. This wasn't about the Okhrana. It was a test of authority and the nobility, the bureaucracy and even some of his allies would be watching closely.

He sighed, trying to convince himself this was the right thing to do. Trying to convince himself that killing or imprisoning thousands of people and their families was the right thing to do.

The loudest lies are the ones we whisper to ourselves so Nicholas lied to himself, sugarcoating what he had ordered. It wasn't easy for him to come to terms with it as a modern man.

So he immersed himself into work, reading the documents Ivan had sent him, trying to distract himself from reality...

A knock on the door interrupted his reading.

"Enter." Nicholas called.

The door opened to reveal Ivan Fedorov, his uniform pristine despite the long hours he had worked. His face was calm, but his eyes betrayed a spark of excitement.

"Your Imperial Highness," Ivan began, bowing slightly. "The operation has begun in full. We've already detained 24 individuals suspected of embezzlement and collaboration with radicals. Early reports suggest at least half of them are guilty, with evidence secured from their offices."

Nicholas nodded, gesturing for Nicholas to continue.

"The inspections of regional branches are also underway." Ivan said. "However, we've encountered resistance in Moscow and Kazan. Certain officials are obstructing access to record or personnel. I've sent additional teams to deal with the matter, but their loyalty to the old guard is evident."

Nicholas frowned and said:

"Resistance was expected. As long as it isn't organized it's within measure. Ensure that those who obstruct the investigation are dealt with swiftly. If they prove uncooperative, have them removed from their posts immediately. I want no delays."

"Understood, Your Imperial Highness," Ivan replied. "Additionally, the Minister of Interior, Count Durnovo, has expressed... concerns about the purge."

Nicholas's smile faded and his lips thinned.

"Durnovo will do as he is told." He stated. "I form him that he will be held accountable for any failure to cooperate."

Before Ivan could respond, a second knock came at the door.

Sergei Witte entered, his expression grave but composed. He bowed briefly before addressing Nicholas.

"Your Imperial Highness, I've been monitoring the fiscal side of this operation. The costs of these inspections, along with the potential disruptions caused by removing high-ranking officials, will surely strain the budget. We may need to allocate additional funds sooner than we anticipated."

Nicholas gestured for Sergei to sit and reassured him:

"Do whatever is necessary, Sergei. The purge must not falter because of financial concerns. If we cannot afford to clear the rot now, we'll pay far more dearly later."

Ivan cleared his throat. "If I may, Your Imperial Highness. Several of the detained individuals have hinted at a network of informants and collaborators within the nobility itself. We may need to extend the purge beyond the Okhrana."

Nicholas stared at Ivan for a moment, his mind racing.

"Not yet, Ivan. Focus on the Okhrana for now. We cannot overextend ourselves before the foundation is solid."

Both Sergei and Ivan nodded in agreement.

As the two men left the study to resume their duties, Nicholas turned to the reports on his desk. The purge was only beginning but already the cracks in the Empire's structure were starting to show. If he succeeded, he would emerge stronger than ever. If he failed, he might not live to see his coronation.

He leaned back on his chair, staring at the huge map of the Empire on the wall.

"One piece at a time," he muttered. "I'll rebuild this Empire one piece at a time."

...

Elsewhere, in a dimly lit office on the outskirts of St. Petersburg, Alexei Danilovich Reznov sat hunched over his desk, the stack of files before him untouched. A cup of tea sat cold and forgotten at his side. The knock on his door earlier that morning had been soft and hesitant. But the words that followed had hit him like cannon fire.

"The purge has begun."

The messenger hadn't stayed long. He'd whispered the words and disappeared, leaving Alexei to drown in his thoughts.

Now, the weight of the situation pressed down on him. He wasn't a high-ranking officer, but he wasn't a nameless clerk either. His position in the Okhrana's central office had given him access to classified documents and occasional dealings with nobles who had paid handsomely to ensure certain information "disappeared."

Alexei wasn't yet corrupted and avid in his heart like most of the Okhrana was. He was only affected by the environment. If everyone was profiteering without consequences, why couldn't he also do it?

But the inspectors wouldn't care about that...

His eyes darted to a drawer in his desk. Inside was a letter. A desperate request for an unofficial favor from a noble family in Moscow. It wasn't much, just a minor alteration to a land deed, but it was enough. Enough to get him flagged, detained, or worse.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Alexei froze, his breath shallow. Were they coming for him? Had someone spoken out against him?

When the footsteps passed, he let out a shaky breath and buried his face in his hands.

"They'll rip us apart," he muttered to himself. "All of us."

A colleague had warned him this day might come. Nicholas' rise to power had been whispered about, and with it, rumors of his plans to reform the Empire. But no one had believed he would move so decisively, not before his coronation.

Alexei's thoughts were interrupted by a sharp rap at the door. His heart seized.

"Reznov!" a gruff voice called.

He scrambled to his feet, smoothing his uniform as the door opened. Three men stepped inside. Both younger, with fresh uniforms that screamed "newly promoted."

"By order of the Tsarevich, we're conducting an inspection," one of them said, his tone clipped. "Hand over all documents and correspondence related to your activities in the past year."

Alexei hesitated, his mind racing. If he handed over everything, the letter in his desk would incriminate him. If he refused, it would only confirm his guilt.

He forced a smile. "Of course, comrades. Everything is in the filing cabinet. I'll gather it for you."

As he turned toward the cabinet, his hand brushed the edge of the desk. With a subtle movement, he slid the drawer shut and locked it, the key slipping into his pocket.

The officers didn't seem to notice.

An hour later they seemed to be done and ready to leave.

Alexei felt an overwhelming sense of relief, but right when they were about to open the door, to his utter horror, one of them turned to him with an evil smile and said:

"Ah, I almost forgot... when were you going to show us what's in your desk?"

Alexei tried his best to maintain a confident facade, but his eyes filled with terror betrayed him.