red moscow

Chapter 3125 A Coincidence That Was Not a Coincidence

As soon as everyone entered the cabin, they felt a warm glow, as if they had suddenly stepped into a cozy haven from the freezing cold. Although the cabin was simple, it was well-organized. Military maps hung on the walls, some military supplies were piled in the corners, and a rough wooden table stood in the center, surrounded by several benches.

“Lieutenant Colonel Sokov!” Lobachev said, taking off his heavy coat and hanging it on a nail on the wall. “Your command post is warmer than the headquarters.” There was a hint of admiration in his voice as he glanced around the room, noticing two stoves burning brightly in different locations.

Sokov grinned and explained to Lobachev, "Comrade Military Commissar, the Chief of Staff has arranged for stoves to be placed in the east and west corners of the room. The fires inside are burning brightly, so the room is naturally warm."

Looking at the mountain of firewood piled up beside the stove, Shamiyakin said with admiration, "Lieutenant Colonel, your soldiers are really capable. They've prepared so much firewood; it'll be more than enough to burn for two or three days." He walked closer and touched the firewood, feeling its dryness and solidity.

“Comrade Shamyakin, our soldiers are all strong and healthy young men,” Belkin said, waving for everyone to get moving. “Chopping some firewood is no big deal. Everyone, don’t stand there, come and sit down at the table.” He pulled out chairs and invited the members of the delegation to sit down.

After Lobachev, Shamyakin, and the members of the delegation sat down, Belkin called to the soldiers and brought each of them a cup of hot tea with honey.

Lobachev picked up his teacup, gently blew on the steam, took a sip, sighed contentedly, put down the cup, and said to Kopalova sitting next to him, "Comrade reporter, Lieutenant Colonel Sokov is a legendary figure in our army group. You should take a lot of pictures of him later."

Kopalova immediately became interested. She adjusted her camera strap, looked at Lobachev, and asked, "Comrade Military Commissar, could you tell me how he became a legend in your army group?" She took out her notebook, ready to record the story.

"He enlisted in August, and in just four months, he's risen from a regular soldier to a lieutenant colonel, and he's now commanding a force of several thousand men on his own," Lobachev said with a laugh, his voice loud and passionate. "He accomplished in four months what others take twenty years or even longer to achieve. Isn't that legendary?"

Lobachev's words elicited a murmur of admiration from the crowd. Shamyakin, a veteran himself, knew firsthand how difficult it was to rise quickly within the military—it required not only exceptional courage and wisdom, but also the ability to make the right choices at crucial moments. Unable to contain his curiosity, he leaned forward and asked Lobachev, "Comrade Military Commissar, could you tell us about Lieutenant Colonel Sokov? We're all very curious to know how he achieved such remarkable success in such a short time."

However, Lobachev did not answer directly. He simply smiled slightly, his gaze sweeping over everyone and landing on Sokov, who was sitting at the other end of the long table. His tone was a mix of teasing and respect: "I think it's better to let the protagonist tell this story himself. Let Lieutenant Colonel Sokov tell you the story himself; his words will be the most truthful."

At this moment, Kopalova quickly stood up, walked briskly to Sokov's side, a professional smile on her face, and said in a clear and warm voice: "Comrade Sokov, would you like to share your personal experiences with us? I am planning to write a profile of you and publish it in our newspaper, Izvestia, so that more soldiers can read your story."

Sokov was known for his low-key and pragmatic approach and disliked being in the spotlight. Hearing Kopalova's suggestion, he smiled somewhat awkwardly, waved his hand, and replied, "Comrade Kopalova, I don't really have anything particularly noteworthy to write about. I suggest you interview the soldiers on the front lines; their stories are truly moving and deserve to be remembered."

Kopalova, however, assumed that the other person was reluctant to reveal more out of unfamiliarity and reserve. Her eyes darted around, and she quickly devised a way to bridge the gap between them.

“Comrade Lieutenant Colonel,” her tone softened, tinged with mystery, “actually, before I came here from the army group headquarters with the delegation, I heard someone mention your name—it really startled me.” Sokov paused slightly, instinctively asking, “Why were you startled?”

“Because I have a good friend, a very close friend.” Kopalova said each word with great seriousness, “His name is also Sokov. When I first heard your name, I even had a momentary lapse of judgment and thought… it was him.”

These words made Sokov's heart race. He thought to himself: Kopalova, you guessed right, I am indeed the Sokov you know, only in this life, I have a different appearance and a different identity, standing before you.

But he feigned surprise, raising his eyebrows and asking, "Really? Comrade Kopalova, your friend shares the same name as me?"

"It's not just the same name, it's the exact same name."

Sokov suddenly felt a mischievous urge and wanted to see how Kopalova would react, so he said with a hint of teasing, "Comrade Kopalova, haven't you ever thought about the possibility that I am actually your friend?"

"What? You are him?" Kopalova's eyes widened as she carefully examined Sokov's face, then she couldn't help but cover her mouth and chuckle softly. "That's impossible."

"Why is it impossible?" Sokov pressed on.

“Because I heard that my friend was promoted to officer for his meritorious service in the defense of Khimki last month. He should still be fighting the Germans somewhere on the front lines now,” Kopalova explained with certainty. “But he’s just a small infantry company commander, no match for you—you’re a brigade commander leading thousands of men.”

With each additional word she spoke, Sokov's astonishment deepened. For she was describing precisely the trajectory of his own life in his previous existence. Could it be that another "self" existed in this time and space? If so, it was utterly unbelievable.

He remained silent for a moment, his gaze lowered as if examining the teacup in his hand, while a raging storm raged within him.

The people around him continued their conversation and laughter, and no one noticed that at that moment, the world in Sokov's eyes seemed to have quietly cracked open. He simply raised his head and responded calmly, "I see... That is quite an interesting coincidence."

(End of this chapter)