Novosibirsk was quite lively. Heavy snowfall and a wind chill could not stop Russia from enjoying winter. Ice hockey, figure skating, snowball fights and building snowmen were as scheduled. The residents were used to a frigid climate, topped off by the remoteness and size of the Siberian region with its native tribes and ferocious beasts, made it harsh but wonderful; much of it unspoilt by man except for the concrete jungles littered throughout.

Everyone knew Christmas was near - only three days to the seventh of January. Their first Christmas on the twenty-fifth of December was delightful. The signing, church-going, eating and drinking were grand, but the second one will be magnificent. Above them, the blue sky was held back by grey. Rupturing the even covering was a straight gash, and at each side, the clouds rolled. 

The relics picked up on this. They were in a nursing home with various amenities like tennis courts and a jacuzzi. This was their rewards for their importance. Gastrointestinal and joint pain were clear indicators that a war was coming. At the sight of them sinking their frail fingers to their bones and stomachs, the geriatric nurse relayed their symptoms by phone to Moscow. They could've had a more efficient response if the FI-2 cybernetic programme, but too many valuable relics died in the process. Their bodies rejected such foreign objects and therefore had to on hold. 

Moscow was swarmed by the unceasing ringing of over one thousand telephones. A mirror event was occurring in India. The population was uneasy as if they were waiting for something. New Dehli sent their message to Moscow. It said:

TO THE PEOPLE AND GOVERNMENT OF RUSSIA, WE HAVE INSTITUTED A DECLARATION OF WAR.

All this over the Scraps War, where Russia and India fought amongst themselves after teaming up to prevent American and European interests from defeating Djibouti, a key area for the Suez canal route. Their obsession for control so prevalent, that the conflict spilt into volatile Ethiopia and Somalia, and the dictatorship of Eritrea, causing a refugee crisis. Eventually, Russia won, damaging India's chances to become the best of the Five Powers. (China, India, the United States, Canada and Russia) This was nothing more than petty retaliation.

Russia utilized all media channels to broadcast the message. Once hearing this, civilians hid underground, largely in subway stations, and to a lesser extent, underground parking lots. The super-rich and significant public figures retreated to their private bunkers, a frightening contrast to those in remote villages, wherein many instances, they lacked protection. Replacing the surface were the militaries. As they were getting ready to go to war, a jolt rocked everybody. 

The country gradually rose from the planet's surface with India in ascending tune. For each, all-encompassing lights matching the colours of their flags formed above both, twisting into a mesmerizing array that dared to escape their borders. This was National Essence - an ethereal force that fuels everything from firearms to missiles, once harvested from the burgeoning patriotism of citizens. 

Christmas trees, lights, ornamental bulbs and related decorations rattled. The gaps of molten rock became covered by rising seawater. Gaia did her best to mitigate the unintended damage to other nations, their infrastructure remaining intact. Mouths of rivers became waterfalls - some generating millions of gallons and were more majestic and otherworldly than their established kin inland.

Eurasia, with its grandeur, dragged itself southwards, taking about three hours to do so to give India and Russia room to go at each other. Several rocks hanging underneath fell on unsuspecting nations. 

The countries were locked in a battle for air supremacy. Fighter jets regularly broke the sound barrier in out manoeuvering each other in a barrage of bullets and missiles.

Some made landfall, zipping past anti-air fire, and bombing cities with tonnes of explosives. Those who were not brave enough to be a martyr were all below ground where death was muffled. All underground areas were sealed until the end of the war. 

Inside one of them was a twenty-four years old pregnant lady with red hair. Her water had just broken and she was ready to bring new life into the world. However, she was seven months pregnant, making it high risk. Her rapid breathing and screams brought the assistance of daughters, aunts and grandmothers but were held back by police officers. There were doctors on standby to aid in the delivery.

"Where is the father?" One of them asked as they guided her to the makeshift medical room.

"He was supposed to be here, but he seemed to have disappeared. The last I heard of him was three hours ago." Her eyes watered. She was unsure if he was alive or not. He may have been one of the unlucky that was too late in finding shelter. 

The doctor stopped probing any further. His priority was to deliver a baby, not to be in people's personal business. 

They got her to spread her legs and for her to control her breathing. Once she settled, they asked her to push. Her lungs pierced their eardrums. It was almost unbearable, but she had to keep pushing. She kept at it despite the clear discomfort. A female doctor grabbed her hand to give her support. 

Her contractions strengthened so much that she felt like she was losing her voice. Sweat collected on her forehead and poured down her face. The baby was nearly out. With one curdling scream, the baby came out. It was big for a premature child. They were shocked by its size. The mother didn't have a chance to hold her child as they cut the umbilical cord, examined the child and placed it in an incubator. 

She called the doctor and asked, "Is it a boy or a girl?"

Taking off his gloves, he said, "A boy."

She was ecstatic. Her husband always wanted a boy as their first. It was a shame he wasn't here to see his newly born child and lovely but exhausted wife. It certainly made the moment bittersweet. 

The two nations returned to the sea about eighty kilometres apart. Gaia had to keep the water mellow to prevent tidal waves from submerging the planet. This meant fast attack boats alongside aircraft carriers, each with their nation's flags slapped on their hulls, were in the midst of an epic sea conflict.

Forty days and nights never saw boots on the ground. Both were swift and deadly enough to stop an all-out land invasion. They were limited to sea and air, firing cold and impersonal rounds as they moved. Military supplies were depleting. Food, water and power for civilians were worse. Many were unfamiliar with rationing. The governments could hold out for so long. A truce had to be declared. 

The war was over, however short. Much of the cities were left flattened. Military bases were strained. Landmarks like Humayun's Tomb and the Catherine Palace were disrespected. Even nature had a few blemishes.

For now, there was peace.

Hi, guys. I hope you liked this little concept I came up with. If you have any suggestions, I would love to hear them. Would be a long time before I make this into a book, (that's if I do make it into one.)