(Excerpt from the fifth chapter of "Memories of the Ukraine: How I Survived the End of Everything", author anonymous.)

Nothing that happens is truly spontaneous.

For every event, every major upheaval of the old and emergence of the new, there's always a buildup. Usually, it blends into the noise, just another one of the hundred million paths that history travels in every moment, most of which come to dead ends, or are absorbed by those busy motorways carved by events that are already in motion.

But nothing can come from nothing. These boulevards of unsummarisable impact, even they must form from the most lacklustre roots.

Like almost everyone, I was not one to notice how these paths tangled and twisted into something so much larger than the sum of their parts. I suppose it's too late now to find out what they were.

I only know what they became.

The room shook. We looked around anxiously at the groaning steel supports, the light that swayed perilously from the ceiling, as if our alertness would in some way prevent the roof from collapsing onto us. After a few seconds of clattering cutlery and toppling books, it stopped.

So we went back to the game. We shrugged it off. As if earthquakes were something we'd been told to expect while stationed in central Ukraine. As if no one of us was sharp enough to realise after more than a second of thought that something with the power to shake an underground bunker would have to carry energy equivalent to that of a hydrogen bomb.

"Alright, I'll raise."

Lorenz put three more chips on the table.

"Call."

I responded by putting out four more pieces of my own to match his bet.

"Um.... fold."

"Bullshit! Don't give me that dejected ass fold, let me see your cards!"

Lorenz took the cards directly out of Harry's hand. This was technically not allowed in Texas holdem, as it made it easier to predict your opponent's cards, but I didn't push the issue.

He threw the cards on the table with a decisive wham. King of hearts and deuce of spades.

"The guy had a full house! Full fucking house! And you fold? We're betting a total of ten bucks each, what are you afraid is gonna happen?!"

"But I just... what if one of you guys had four of a kind?"

"Yeah well you're the egghead, what exactly would be the chances of that do you think?"

Harry didn't respond. While I agreed with his's overall message, Lorenz was being a bit too... well, Lorenz about it.

"Look, Harry, I get that you don't want to risk your money, but poker has a minimum bet for a reason. If you keep folding every game you're essentially choosing to lose money. That's not a safe bet of anything, more than that you're gonna walk out ten dollars lighter."

Harry looked down at his feet. Running circles in my mind was the one thought I still had not been able to satisfy despite years of service with the man; Why the hell did this guy enlist?

Lorenz broke the silence by sighing obnoxiously.

"Okay. Let's finish this round and then we'll play something else. Who's up for go fish?"

Harry smiled at him with gratitude. Lorenz almost looked like he smiled back.

We spent a couple hours down there playing various card and board games, pushing to the back of our minds the question that none of us wanted to confront. Our pass was supposed to have started half an hour ago. The sergeant was still nowhere to be seen. And the sergeant was never late.

By the time we'd gotten around to Hearts, the tension was palpable. We were no longer playing out of a desire to play the games, but to occupy our minds with something other than the setting realisation that something had gone very wrong.

Eventually, by the end of the third game, all conversation had ceased. The cards fell flat onto the table. No one made a move to pick them back up. I guess that's just when we all understood that the gig was up.

I took a breath.

"Shouldn't we just open the door?"

Lorenz turned to me with a confused look. Harry continued to stare at the cards.

"I mean we can't exactly sit here forever."

Lorenz blinked, the haze lifting from his eyes. He sighed.

"No, you're right. We really should."

With heavy motions, he stood up from the chair and made his way to the front of the room. He put his hand on the door handle. But he made no effort to push it down.

I didn't need to ask; I knew what he was feeling. Somewhere near the back of his mind, a little voice was pleading with him not to open the door. To just sit back down, pretend like nothing was amiss. In hindsight, maybe that voice had been right. Maybe, if we had all just stayed in that room, we could've died never having to know what had happened. Maybe we could've spent our final moments together, at peace with never knowing why no one was coming. Instead of whatever god-forsaken fate I'm destined for now.

It doesn't matter, because after a few seconds he pushed down the handle.

The door creaked open, in such a stereotypically horror movie way that it was almost obnoxious. Beyond it, the barrack corridors were empty. The corridors were never empty.

"Weird."

I lied aloud, trying to feign some belief that the base was still operating regularly. I don't think anyone believed me.

I was the one to take the first step out of the murky room. Not out of bravery mind you, but because I just couldn't stand the overwhelming pressure to move. I didn't look back, but I could hear two sets of footsteps following behind me.

Room after room, ladder after ladder, the path to the surface was signified by the same thing. The base wasn't dark, or bloody, or destroyed. Just empty. And shaken.

Not entirely so, thankfully. Behind a couple of closed doors we found others like us; low-ranking personnel, sleeping, relaxing, or simply sitting in silence. But the command room, the cafeteria, every hall and office stood empty. Something had happened. I had a feeling it wasn't something good.

As we checked on more and more rooms, our band grew with others who desired to do the same thing that we did; figure out just what the hell was going on. But despite our increasing numbers, no one spoke. Those who had realised the gravity of the situation were mute from shock and contemplation, and those who hadn't yet soon did. A hundred men walking, not a single word between them. A sound not many people would ever hear.

We finally reached the massive entrance to the fortress. The bunker doors stood completely ajar. A crowd that had gathered in their frame obstructed our view of the outside. Men and women of every rank and profession; corporals, sergeants, janitors, even the journalist that had been visiting the base, all staring blankly at the expanse outside. At least we knew where everyone had gone now.

What made me stop in my tracks, however, was not the sight of hundreds of personnel standing motionless before whatever had happened to the outside. What made me stare, for the first time in my life, in true, unmitigated horror, was the fact that the sky was no longer blue.

And then people started collapsing.