Atomic Institute

On the outskirts of Moscow stood the building of a research institute, a former "secret institute," whose activities could only be told by its employees, who held positions in management or who were supervisors. Behind the walls of the building of gray panels and red brick, magicians worked. Today it's safe to say what they were doing there. The research here was overseen by the Defense Magic and Universal Transformations departments of a famous institute that existed in a magical land. Here they created technologies to tame the atom and use its power for the benefit of technological progress.

 

Let's look at what the wizards left behind, who disappeared along with the magical land. I was moving toward my target. The monolith of a four-story building with two large additions, spanning the length of the street from intersection to intersection and around the corner, stood out prominently in the surrounding landscape, catching my eye. But at the same time, there was something about it that made me want to walk past it. Strangely enough, as soon as I averted my eyes, the urge to pass disappeared. "Passers-by on this street are rare visitors; is it because of the energy of this building? Unusual. And why is it getting colder with every step I take toward it? Yes, this weather does not correlate at all with the promises of the weather forecasters this morning. As soon as I stepped off the bus, a cloud covered the sky. "Oh no, is it going to rain?" Finally, I'm inside. Soaking wet with either rain or fog, I searched for a place to hide from the cold and damp. I yanked on all the doors in a row, and then one gave way and let me in. It was unusually warm. I found myself in an annex to the main building.

 Warmed up, I looked around. A workshop. But now that I'm here, it's time to get out my camera.  It got really warm, but the air was humid. It was as if I'd been dipped in steaming milk.

Suddenly, as I passed the window, I looked through it and realized that there was nothing in it. It was as if the outside was doused with that very milk. Could it be that fog?

 I felt uncomfortable. I went back to the front door, but it was locked.

 I had no choice but to keep moving.

 The corridor led me to a hallway with a passageway. There were stairs upstairs and several doors, behind which there was obviously something interesting. I decided to start with one of the doors.

 There were firing furnaces and all sorts of apparatus.

 From here I could go further and get to a lighted room where there were people's workstations.

 When I had finished inspecting this area, I walked back out into the hall. Just as I pulled out my camera to take a few shots of the interior and the hallway, and took a few steps deeper into the hallway, my hands put the camera back by themselves and my feet carried me up the stairs. "What was that?" - I thought, - "What a miracle." Later I realized that it was a special security charm. As I walked up the stairs, I looked at the posters hanging on the walls. "Honorary Wizards of our Research Institute," "Comrade! Know how to protect yourself from the dark forces!", "MagNoLIA - Magical Noble Laboratory of Isotopes Activation" and many other headlines gradually puzzled me. I didn't notice how I walked a dozen flights of stairs. I only realized it when I bumped into the sign that said "Floor 2." Opening the door, I started to examine it. Here was the vacuum compression furnace.

 "Thermal stabilization unit for spells," the sign told me.

 After walking through this room and a small corridor, I came across a small hermetic door.

 And when I opened it, I found myself in a room with the rest of the equipment.

 Perhaps, it was the same vacuum furnace, or a machine for vacuum-thermal application of magic pollen.

 The third floor consisted of laboratories.

 This lab equipment is designed to work with isotopes. They are completely sealed, and the only thing that connects them to the atmosphere is the airlock and the air filtration system, which, if necessary, can be turned into a closed system by replacing the air with an inert gas. Here, too, they were probably used to handle black-magic-charged artifacts.

Bigger. Smaller. Here you can see the half-dismantled airlock.

In the other rooms, however, the labs are more modest.

At the end of the corridor, behind a massive door, there is a room with devices that emit magic beams.

Above the door hangs a light board that says "Radiation," but it didn't fit in.

The fourth floor was a little disappointing. On it, because of the same security charms, I was able to take a picture of just one office and a poster on the wall.

I went downstairs. I only had to look behind the last door in the hall on the first floor. There had been a change during my absence: the warm air had become cold, and the light from the windows had become dimmer and as if judgmental. But it can only be a judgmental look, can't it? To avoid falling under the spell again, I moved quickly but carefully to the other end of the hall and opened the door to the corridor. Various test chambers.

Some areas are separated from each other by doors.

The warehouse.

Which is full of mold.

Here under the ceiling spiders are forever stuck in their webs, becoming food for mold.

Not wanting to repeat their fate, I returned to the corridor.

The corridor led to the control room. The humid air from time had caused the plaster to peel off in flakes.

What was behind the next door?

A new room! The temperature got even lower, as if behind each new door was a new section of the freezer.

Behind the next door was another control room.

A corridor led me to various administrative rooms, which were of no interest.

The control room hid a staircase downstairs.

At the bottom was a large compression chamber.

It was getting really cold. I took this picture and then felt a little dizzy. The last thing I remember was the fog gently descending the steps of the metal staircase and filling the underground room.

I woke up already on the street. The setting sun was pleasantly warming me with its rays. The bad weather was gone. Somehow I got outside and sat down, leaning against the door through which I had entered the institute building. Was I even there? The only thing that made me believe it was the writing on my left hand made by myself: "No one will believe you anyway." Those magicians were very thoughtful people, after all!"

Until we meet again!