[ WP ] November , 1965 : Moscow has lost radio contact with a secret research facility in Siberia , and the last broadcast from the facility was `` It ... is awake . ''

Inside of two hours of the Soviet's receipt of the harrowing message, a monstrous silver capsule had been loaded onto a Tu-95v aircraft, and was in flight to Siberia. Heavy winter turbulence buffetted the craft this way and that, but the giant silver cupola of the bomb stayed deathly silent. Only the drone of the engine broke the silence as the crew watched the dawn come forth from the pale blue darkness. The landscape below was veiled thickly by icy silver-gray clouds. The front gunner and the bombardier exchanged 
 glances. Something was n't right. To their knowledge, this was merely another test of the Tsar Bomba's awesome power, but some primeval instinct told the crew that something in the grayness below them was indeed, deeply wrong. 
 
 The bombadier, a Cpt. Zorin, was ordinarily a man of silky, calm demeanor, but this testing mission raised the hairs on the back of his neck. In close approach of their destination, as the bombardier, the officer responsible for the aiming and loosing of the gargantuan weapon, he assumed control of the aircraft. Fortunately, it seemed the clouds below were thinning. Yes, he was beginning to make out the Siberian landscape, see the white of the 
 snow below. 
 
 But to his shock, it was n't the rumpled linen of the snow-covered Siberian mountains he saw. It was a smooth, almost glazed surface, glowing a strange, haunting yellow. He blinked. The yellow remained. They had arrived at the target zone, and suddenly, it was as if they were floating above a loathsome dark abyss, a pool of black in the golden glow. And suddenly, the landscape SHIFTED. The abyss whizzed away, then was back, 
 and Zorin, to his horror saw exactly what they were bombing. It was n't land at all! It was an eye. A sickeningly yellow eye so gargantuan, it stretched, 
 as far as he could tell, from one horizon to another, and it was staring at THEM. 
 
 With a yell, he loosed the bomb. It spiraled into the distance, and was gone. Then, it was as if the sun had appeared below them. Hurricane winds buffeted back and forth, as the apocalyptic fireball raised into the air. 
 
 
 In Moscow, an the Soviet officials were in joyous uproar over the news of the bomb's successful detonation. A separate observer plane reported: 
 the eye was gone. They had won. 
 
 Silence descended upon the landscape. The eye slowly opened again. It blinked once. Twice. Around the world, a thousand other eyes like it opened blearily, tearing apart cities, moving mountains. The planet sleepily stretched, shrugged, 
 and life on its surface was no more. It had awakened. Earth had awakened. The eyes sleepily shut once again. Back to sleep. 

