Sun Crystal

The heating in Novosibirsk can never be fixed. Seryozha was an engineer who couldn't even hold a gun. In order to exchange for a bottle of medicine for his son, he converted himself into 500 kilograms of food stamps and stuffed them into the train bound for the Caucasus. He passed through the Yellow Zone and the Red Zone, put on a steel exoskeleton called "Blizzard", and finally stood at the core of the giant tower under the ruins of Warsaw. That tower needed someone to light it up—not a hero, just a father. "Dad, will you come back when I count to one hundred?" Dam counted the rust spots on the radiator and counted to ninety-nine. And Seryozha knew that there were only ninety-nine rust spots. The hundredth one is the father himself. One hundred and one, it's spring. When "going home" becomes the most extravagant tactical goal in the apocalypse, every rust spot we count on a snowy night is a mark of ordinary people's fight against forgetfulness. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.