Reincarnated with a Country Creation System

December 26th, 1938.

Somewhere near the coast of Valoria. A Ruthenian submarine was cruising underneath the ocean as it propelled toward Valoria.

The captain of the submarine, a stern man named Viktor Petrov, stood in the control room surrounded by the soft glow of gauges and the low hum of machinery. His weathered face was set with determination as he monitored their approach on the navigational chart. The submarine had been given explicit orders: gather intelligence on Valoria's coastal defenses and report back without being detected.

"Depth at 200 meters and steady, Captain," reported Lieutenant Sergei Ivanov, a young officer with sharp eyes trained on the sonar screen. The rhythmic pings echoed in the confined space, confirming that their route was clear for now.

"Captain, I have a gut feeling that this is a dangerous mission," said Lieutenant Ivanov, glancing uneasily at Viktor. His voice was low, barely audible over the hum of machinery, but the weight of his words was unmistakable.

Viktor turned to Sergei, his expression stern but understanding. "Danger is part of the job, Lieutenant," he replied evenly. "But we know what's at stake. The Ruthenia Empire wants to know the naval capabilities of Valoria.

The Triesenberg Empire doesn't provide much data on their current military capabilities so we have to go and find out for ourselves," Viktor finished, his eyes narrowing with determination.

The crew, though tense, nodded in silent acknowledgment. Every man on board understood the risks; their mission was crucial for the Ruthenian Empire's strategic planning.

Sergei's eyes flicked back to the sonar screen, and his expression suddenly changed. His fingers hovered over the controls, trembling slightly as he processed the new information appearing before him.

"Captain," he said, his voice now sharp with urgency, "we've picked up something—moving fast and heading straight for us."

Viktor's face hardened, and he moved swiftly to stand behind Sergei, eyes fixed on the sonar display. The contact was closing in quickly, too fast to be a school of fish or underwater debris.

"Range?" Viktor barked.

"Closing at 800 meters and decreasing rapidly," Sergei replied, sweat beginning to form on his brow. The blip on the sonar grew larger with each passing second, a predator zeroing in on its prey.

Viktor took a deep breath, his mind racing through their options. "All hands, prepare for evasive maneuvers," he commanded, his voice firm and unyielding. The crew sprang into action, their movements disciplined and precise despite the rising tension.

"Adjust depth—take us down to 300 meters," Viktor ordered. "Silent running, maintain course but reduce speed."

The submarine's engines hummed as it descended deeper into the cold, dark water. The crew watched the sonar display, their eyes wide with apprehension. The approaching contact was now at 500 meters and still heading straight for them.

Sergei's hands clenched the edges of the control panel. "Captain, it's too precise. They might have detected us."

Viktor's eyes met Sergei's for a brief moment, a silent understanding passing between them. "Steady, Lieutenant. Let's not make it easy for them."

The seconds stretched into an eternity as the contact closed in to within 300 meters. The men held their breath, the creaks of the hull under pressure and the faint sound of water rushing past their only companions.

"Hold course," Viktor whispered, his voice barely audible. The tension in the control room was suffocating, each crew member straining to hear the faintest change in the soundscape around them.

Suddenly, the sonar emitted a sharp, staccato beep as the contact veered off to the side, moving parallel to their position.

"They're sweeping the area," Sergei whispered, relief mingled with dread. The crew exchanged nervous glances, the unspoken question clear: Had they been detected, or was it just a close call?

Viktor's eyes stayed glued to the screen as the contact hovered at a distance, then slowly began to move away, disappearing into the depths.

"What could it be?" One of the crews asked.

"It could be a submarine…I heard a faint rumbling, like an engine running silently," another crew member muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. The control room remained tense, each man listening intently to the muted sounds that filtered through the submarine's hull.

"What are the chances that they actually found us and is playing

a waiting game?" Sergei asked, his voice tight with worry.

Viktor's jaw clenched as he considered the possibility. It was not uncommon for more advanced navies to feign disengagement, only to strike when their target resumed movement. He took a steadying breath and addressed the crew.

"We wait. Do not make any sudden moves. If this is a trap, we need to be patient and let them reveal their intentions first."

The crew nodded, their expressions set with grim determination. The moments that followed felt like hours as the submarine remained motionless, the quiet pings from the sonar screen their only company. Viktor could feel the weight of the ocean pressing down on the hull, the oppressive silence a stark reminder of the dangers they faced.

Suddenly, the sonar let out another ping—an echo that indicated the contact had shifted direction once more. This time, it was heading away at a steady pace.

"It's moving off," Sergei whispered, exhaling the breath he had been holding.

A wave of cautious relief washed over the crew. Viktor's eyes remained narrowed as he studied the sonar screen, refusing to let down his guard too quickly.

As Viktor watched the sonar screen with hawk-like focus, the relief in the control room was short-lived. A sudden, sharp beep echoed through the confined space, causing everyone to freeze. Sergei's eyes darted to the screen, his face going pale.

"Captain!" Sergei shouted, his voice cracking under the pressure. "The contact—it's coming back, and fast! This time… it's a torpedo!"

A chill swept through the room as the implications set in. Viktor's heart pounded as he snapped into action. "Full evasive maneuvers! Helm, hard to port! Dive deeper, 400 meters—now!"

The crew erupted into a frenzy of motion, each man executing his orders with the efficiency born of rigorous training. The submarine groaned as it shifted course, tilting as it descended into the abyss.

"Sound the alarm!" Viktor barked.

The blaring klaxon filled the control room, drowning out the ambient noise of machinery. The Ruthenian submarine strained against the crushing pressure of the deep, its metal shell creaking ominously as it pushed beyond its recommended depth.

"Impact in 30 seconds!" Sergei called out, his voice hoarse as he clutched the sonar panel.

Viktor's eyes were steely as he surveyed the scene. Every breath felt heavy, each second stretching into eternity. "Deploy countermeasures!" he ordered.

The crew acted swiftly, their movements honed by countless drills. A sailor rushed to the controls for the countermeasure launch, his hands moving with precision as he pulled levers and pressed switches. The submarine released a series of mechanical noise-makers—cylindrical devices designed to emit loud, erratic sounds that mimicked the noise of a submarine's engines.

"Countermeasures deployed!" the sailor shouted, sweat glistening on his brow.

The devices sank into the cold, dark water, releasing bursts of noise that reverberated through the depths. The soundscape was suddenly chaotic, with overlapping echoes that bounced back to the sonar screen in a cacophony of pings. Sergei's eyes darted back and forth, trying to make sense of the confusion on the display.
Find adventures at M-V-L

"Hold course, stay steady!" Viktor commanded.

The submarine's engines quieted as they shifted to minimal power, maintaining silent running to avoid giving away their true location.

"Fifteen seconds!" Sergei's voice cut through the din like a knife, the countdown pounding in every man's chest.

The crew waited, each heartbeat a drumroll as they braced for impact or salvation. The moments ticked by, each second stretching into a small eternity. Finally, a muffled thud resonated through the hull, followed by the faint sound of an explosion in the distance. One of the countermeasures had done its job, and the torpedo detonated harmlessly away from the submarine's path.

The brief moment of relief that filled the control room was shattered when the sonar emitted another warning beep, louder and more insistent. Sergei's eyes widened as a new contact appeared on the screen.

"Captain, another torpedo!" Sergei shouted, his voice straining under the weight of panic. This time, the approaching signal was even faster.

Viktor's heart clenched. The Valorian submarine had fired a second torpedo, this one more deliberate and deadly. "Evasive maneuvers! Full speed ahead, starboard!" he commanded, hoping to turn the submarine just enough to evade the strike.

The metallic groan of the submarine echoed through the hull as it pivoted sharply. The crew gripped their stations, eyes locked on the sonar display, the tense air buzzing with their collective fear.

"Ten seconds to impact!" Sergei called out, his voice thin with dread.

The submarine surged forward, engines roaring as it pushed to outrun the oncoming projectile. But Viktor knew it was too close, too fast. His jaw tightened as he barked, "Brace for impact!"

A sudden, violent shudder ripped through the submarine as the torpedo struck the aft section. The deafening sound of the explosion reverberated throughout the vessel, followed by the groaning of metal as it twisted and buckled under the force. Sparks erupted from control panels, and the dim lights flickered erratically.

"Damage report!" Viktor shouted over the chaos as smoke began to fill the control room, stinging the eyes and throats of the crew.

A technician staggered to a nearby panel, coughing as he assessed the damage. "Severe damage to the propulsion system, Captain! We're taking on water in the aft compartments!"

"Seal off the affected sections!" Viktor commanded, his mind racing through the emergency procedures. "Sergei, status on the enemy contact?"

Sergei wiped the sweat and soot from his face, eyes darting across the sonar display. "It's still out there, circling like a shark."

"Shit!"