Progress

"There is so much power in believing that everything will work out even when you don't know how or when."

~Unknown

---

The next morning, Nicholas got the news of the successful assasinations.

At that moment, there was one abudant feeling in his heart. It wasn't regret, guilt nor empathy. It was relief. As if a heavy weight was lifted off his back.

He went on about his day whistling and humming a sound which, at this time, only he knew. Somehow, his mood was now much better than even he himself expected.

Nicholas didn't know but a profound and subconscious fear of the communists had creeped into his heart, knowing what they brought to Nikolai of the original timeline.

But he also found it hilarious... how powerless they had found themselves in these last moment. As powerless as the men and women they had directly or indirectly killed in the future. Somehow, Nicholas felt he had retributed them.. or better, avenged them!

He felt like a messenger of God, an angel of death mabye. A God-sent with a mission to save the world.

As Nicholas walked through the grand halls, a wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his mind swirling with thoughts of the recent events.

"Well, if I'm going to be an angel of death, I suppose I'll have to start reading up on my holy duty. Maybe I should've brought a scythe instead of a crown… or at least a feathered quill for the paperwork. Angels aren't known for their bureaucratic finesse, are they?"

He chuckled to himself, the sound echoing oddly in the empty hallway.

'Damn, perhaps next time, God will sent me back as a serf so I can truly learn humility.'

He then looked at the glass in front of him and smirked at his own mental image, ready to smite a few infidels here and there.

"Repent, ye sinners!" He mused sarcastically once again. "Your appointment with the Almighty has been rescheduled, but don't worry, I'll be handling the paperwork!"

He continued humming happily until he left the palace and got into his carriage.

Although not before offering a "good morning" to his coachman, which he wholly appreciated.

It was not everyday that the Tsar deigned himself to salute the lowly coachman after all.

...

The frost-laden streets of St. Petersburg shimmered under the morning sun as Nicholas II's carriage came to a halt outside the Imperial Scientists' Association, which was renamed quite recently.

Emerging from the vehicle, Nicholas adjusted his coat, bracing against the cold air. The purge of the Okhrana, spearheaded by Ivan Fedorov, dominated the empire's political landscape, and they had consumed Nicholas' time for months.

But today, his focus shifted to a different battlefield. One where innovation, not blood!... Would secure Russia's future.

Dmitry Mendeleev waited at the entrance, flanked by a cohort of Russia's brightest minds. Behind them, laboratories hummed with the sounds of progress.

"Your Majesty," Mendeleev greeted, bowing deeply. "We are honored by your presence."

Nicholas acknowledged him with a slight nod. "I trust you have much to show me."

The tour began with Alexander Stepanovich Popov, who demonstrated his advancements in wireless communication. Using his refined system, he transmitted signals across the laboratory. The faint crackle of electric waves echoed through the room.

Nicholas sported a satisfied smile, recognizing the potential this technology had, even though it was still early.

"Popov," Nicholas said, "this technology will revolutionize our empire. It holds potential not only for military operations but for our economy and diplomacy. Ensure this research proceeds without delay."

Popov bowed. "It will be done, Your Majesty."

The group moved to another wing, where the new arrival, Rudolf Diesel was inspecting a prototype engine. Diesel, recently arrived from Germany, had been working tirelessly with Russian engineers to refine his revolutionary designs.

"Your Majesty," Diesel began, gesturing to the machine. "This engine will redefine industry and transportation. It's versatile, efficient, and robust enough to power automobiles and even larger machinery."

Nicholas studied the engine closely, a hint of satisfaction crossing his face. "Mr. Diesel, your work is invaluable. I expect collaboration with our engineers to remain productive. We have ambitious plans for this technology."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Diesel replied, his tone steady with conviction.

Mendeleev got closer to Nicholas and whispered to his ear:

"Your Majesty, where did you even find this guy? I didn't even know him and was skeptical about him at first. But as soon as he got here, he proved to be a genius in his field."

Nicholas just smiled mysteriously and didn't give him an answer.

'Not telling huh. Everyone he has recommended personally until now proved to be highly capable on their field. It looks like he has thoroughly done his research before creating the association. But how? With what resources?? Still. He reassures me.'

Amidst these thoughts, Mendeleev kept walking behind Nicholas, explaining to him the workings of the association and the scientists involved.

The next stop was a workshop buzzing with discussions on aerodynamics and aircraft design. Konstantin Tsiolkovsky and Nikolai Zhukovsky, two of Russia's leading minds, stood at the forefront. Nearby, plans for gliders and early aircraft engines were spread across tables.

"Gentlemen," Nicholas addressed them, "the skies represent the future of warfare and transportation. To that end, I am establishing a new research center in Kazan. This facility will be hidden from foreign eyes and devoted to automobiles and aircraft development. Soon, I will bring an automobile expert to work in the same base."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.

"Mr. Diesel will work closely with you to adapt his engines for flight. Additionally, I have instructed my diplomats to contact and have more scientists to help you. One of these names includes Otto Lilienthal in Germany. His expertise in flight and glider technology will complement your efforts."

Zhukovsky exchanged a glance with Tsiolkovsky before bowing and replying.

"Your Majesty, such a facility would allow us to make breakthroughs that were previously unimaginable. We will not fail you."

"You must not," Nicholas said firmly. "I am investing heavily in these endeavors because I believe in their potential. I expect results. Decisive ones."

As the tour concluded, Nicholas signaled for Mendeleev to remain behind. The two retired to a private study, where a fire crackled softly in the hearth.

"Mendeleev," Nicholas began, his tone quieter now, "I have another task for you. One of great importance."

The chemist's eyes narrowed slightly. "Of course, Your Majesty. What do you require?"

"Dimitri. Did you know more of our soldiers die in wars because of neglible wounds who get infected than direct wounds?" Nicholas asked.

Mendeleev surely knew of deaths caused by infectious deseases but he didn't think the number was that high. Confusion was visible on his face. Noticing the confusion on his face, Nicholas continued:

"Well the cause of those deaths are infectious deseases, caused by the so-called...Bacteria."

He then paused, before continuing in a decisive and authoritative tone.

"Dimitri, I have come to ask you to develop a drug against them.

Ah, did you know more of our soldiers die in wars because of neglible wounds who get infected than direct wounds? I need you to gather the best biologists and chemists in the empire," Nicholas said. "Their task will be to develop a drug capable of fighting infections. A medicine to counter bacteria that cause disease. It's name will be Penicillin. Study the name at first and then begin the work."

Mendeleev frowned, leaning back in his chair. "Penicillin? Penicillinium? Huh?medicine to fight bacteria? Your Majesty, such an endeavor is unprecedented. How do you know such a thing is even possible?"

Nicholas hesitated before replying. "Begin by studying the works of Louis Pasteur and Robert Koch. Then study molds and microorganisms. Somewhere in that field lies the answer."

The chemist folded his hands, skepticism warring with intrigue in his expression, his scientific curiosity arising.

"And the timeline for this project?"

"I want results by 1913 or 1914 at the latest," Nicholas said firmly. "This medicine will save countless lives. Not just soldiers but the people of our empire. Spare no expense or effort."

Mendeleev exhaled slowly, then nodded. "As you command, Your Majesty. I will rally the brightest minds for this endeavor. Though I must confess, I am curious as to how you possess such extraordinary foresight."

Nicholas had been proved right time and time again, which made Mendeleev extremely intrigued.

He was eager and genuinely excited to know if he would be right once again.

Nicholas rose, opened the door and saluted:

"Until next time, Dmitri. I expect great things from you."

And just like that... he left the association among many curious and reverful glances.