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As one sun sets, an another one rises.

Five years had passed since the end of the Russo-Lithuanian War, and through a combination of careful government interventionism and restored political stability, the economy and society of Lithuania had fully recovered (although was still considerably weaker than Germania or even Bohemia and Hungary) - and this, combined with many other factors, but especially Lithuania's participation in the Defense Commission, is what led to perhaps the most defining event in postwar Lithuania. The Lithuanian economic miracle.

In the 1948 Lithuanian legislative election, Democrat Antanas Garšva etched his name into Lithuanian history by becoming the first democratically elected head of state of Lithuania to obtain a second term - despite his party slowly dividing itself under ideological lines and the postwar high of national unity fading away, the White Shroud nevertheless collected a little bit over 40 percent of the vote, a notable plurality which, after some coalition negotiations, granted Garšva the mandate of the Prezidiumas. A notable result of the election came for the Lithuanian Avengers, the unofficial successor of the Revival Front, which, having lost much of their original momentum, only gathered about 7 percent of the electorate and thus faded from the spotlight, for now. A coalition of Unitarian parties fared even worse, failing to gather even a single percent. Post-election violence, radical nationalist and revolutionary Unitarian guerrillas, clashes with the Russians and Ruthenians had become history.

The reasonable political situation in Lithuania as well as their participation in the Defense Commission cooled off many worried heads - no, the Lithuanians were not going to restore their nationalist dictatorship nor turn Unitarian all of a sudden, you are all safe. This foreign confidence in Lithuanian stability allowed European, especially German, investors, to look into the potential strengths this country had to offer - and in a world whose economy was rapidly switching from an industrial economy to technology based post-industrialism, this Eastern European country was like a perfect match. Compared to Western Europe or even other Central European states, the workforce here was notoriously cheap, yet at the same time educated and qualified thanks to effective education reforms. The transport and logistics infrastructure Lithuania inherited from Revivalism and improved upon was not an inch worse than the equivalents found in the West, either - thus, even if natural resources there were scarce, bringing them from neighboring states was not too difficult. And finally, when compared to the rest of Europe, Lithuania has traditionally been a country with a higher level of government interventionism than most others - ever since the years of the Empire, in fact, when much of . While some saw this as a big minus, others definitely enjoyed the stability provided by a more state influenced economy, especially the types of industries which were still unproven and thus needed all the stability they get - for example, consumer electronics, or modern biotechnology.

Rapidly rising levels of foreign investment was what kickstarted the Economic Miracle - massive French and German conglomerates such as the automotive giant "Picardie", one of the world's primary producer of consumer automobiles, and the Sengupta producer "Riederer", just to give a few examples, began establishing themselves in this 'virgin land', especially in the recently established free economic zones of Lentvaris (next to Vilnius), Reval, Liepoja and Grodno - the economic boom would later turn all four of them into major cities, as dozens of thousands would move there through the following decade in search of a wealthier life. The sudden surge of foreign investment was a major cause of inflation (combated by the National Bank of Lithuania through deflationary measures), but at the same time increased the amount of capital in the hands of the Lithuanians themselves, especially in foreign currency, kickstarting rapid domestic economic development. This all, to put in bluntly, resulted in rapid growth of real GDP beyond even the wildest expectations of both domestic and foreign economists. The 1950s would become the era which saw many Lithuanian start-ups that later became worldwide giants, especially the Kaunas-based company "Santarvė" ("Harmony"), founded by two former landowners' sons, Martynas Žukauskas and Antanas Sniečkus, which was one of the first in the world to apply the technology of transistors, first discovered in German military laboratories in the last inches of the War of the Danube, and would go on to revolutionize the field of consumer electronics as we know it.

Economic data from the period shows it all - in 1945, when Lithuanian postwar recovery was still taking place and not yet fully done with, the Second Republic had a GDP per capita of 5500 German thalers, which, while above average for the rest of the world (after all, it was composed of the wealthiest and most developed parts of the former Empire of Lithuania), it was smaller than the Visegradian successor countries' average of 7500 thalers, not even talking about the 12 000 of Germania or 11 500 of France. By 1956 - interestingly enough, an another very important year for Lithuanian history - this balance had changed: Lithuania's GDP per capita had risen to almost 10 000 thalers, beating out much of Central and Southern Europe (not Italy, of course) and getting closer to the established Western European states. However, this was not the end of Lithuanian economic history - the Economic Miracle had to end some day, too. That happened in the late 1960s, when growing fears from Western and Central Europe about Lithuanian competition would have severe adverse affects on the Lithuanian economy. But that is just the distant future.

However, the primary focus of the world at this point in time was not Lithuania, but something a little bit to the south. Krajina's separation from the European Defense Commission in protest of Lithuania's admission to the organization was seen by the autocratic regime in Crimea as an opportunity. After all, it was no mystery that Crimea claimed much of southern Krajina for themselves, declaring them to be righteously Tatar territory. The government of Krajina - a provisional cabinet headed by former Visegrad-era general Alexei Rykovsky - didn't want to hear none of it, however, and when Ilfat Karim's government presented them with the April 1st Note to demand a return of their claimed territory, he obviously said no. Thus, the Crimean War began - an event which foreign observers, to say it bluntly, saw as a shocker. This was a nation of about 2 million taking on a country with nearly 40 million people, after all - even if they had Circassia on their side. Still, at the beginning of the war, luck seemed to follow the Crimeans - their "Yk" ("arrow") strategy, noted by observers as a Crimean version of Bertolt Brecht's tactics or the Lithuanian Bludgeon doctrine, proved to be superior to the not yet fully reestablished and equipped Ruthenian military, and within a matter of a month, the Dnieper delta and the city of Melitopol, the initial Crimean objectives in the war, fell. Still, Krajina did not consider a truce.

Much like the Crimean militarists expected, Germania only issued protests and sent humanitarian aid to the Ruthenian government, but there was an important factor that hadn't been considered - the two Russias. Despite their common fight against Revivalist Lithuania in the form of the Russian united front, Russia and Volga had somewhat distanced themselves from each other - the democratic Volgak society didn't feel right supporting an authoritarian regime, while Russia was too busy rebuilding to turn their relationship into anything greater. However, the news of the Crimean invasion of Krajina threw them both into the same bag. Despite already being 75 years old, Alexei Krutov enthusiastically lent support to his nation's southern neighbour, first starting out with generous military equipment supplies to Kiev and finally declaring war on the Crimean-Ruthenian alliance in early July. While not many Russians actually saw the battlefield - only about eight thousand volunteers - but their support and experience in the form of invited veteran officers was vital in reorganizing and strengthening the Ruthenian army. Volga and its new chairman Nikolay Shervanadze were a lot more reluctant and stayed out of the war in the end, partially to not incite their own Crimean Tatar population - however, they nevertheless denounced the aggressive Crimean invasion, enacting a trade embargo on the alliance and supporting the Ruthenians with volunteers and equipment.

The tide of the war turned with the five-week long Battle of Mariupol on the coast of the Azov Sea - the initially rapidly advancing Crimean armored forces were halted by a multi-layered Ruthenian defense, and a defender counterattack, costly for both sides, pushed the Tatars back. From there, it was nothing but retreat for the formerly victorious Crimean forces, and after a few attempts to delay the Slavic advance, the military government gave the command to retreat behind the Iskandar's Wall. Alongside the Crimean military, some 200 000 Tatars living in Krajina retreated to the peninsula, worsening the situation in the already overpopulated nation. Here, the war turned into a stalemate - the Ruthenians had no capability to breach through the chokepoint and the navy guarding it, while the Crimeans had no chance of making a second push. Circassia couldn't even be reached by land, lest Ruthenia had to go through neutral Volga. As such, even though the hostilities in the Crimean War ceased by 1950, the actual armistice was only signed in 1955, after some threats of Volgak intervention and some careful negotiations. A full peace treaty never happened.

However, while the result of the war was inconclusive, what it did was reignite the idea of pan-East Slavic unity, and this time for good. It had been the third time in these few decades that the three East Slavic nations - the Ruthenians, the Russians and the Volgaks - banded together against an enemy. The fight against the Empire of Lithuania during the Great European War and the Russian War of Independence; the Russian united front during the Russo-Lithuanian War; and now the Crimean War. With every one of these wars, each of the three East Slavic nations would start to see each other less like indifferent neighbors and more like brotherly allies. And this time, it was no longer just an idea limited to pan-Slavist circles or to nationalist parties - even the governments of the countries themselves began to see that with a strengthening Lithuania, an ever-powerful Germania, a rising China and a growingly threatening India all around them, the only path the East Slavs could take was a closely knit defensive and economic union, slightly similar to the European Defense Commission which Germania headed, except even more tightly bound. Far from everyone would have agreed to this plan, but most recognized that without each other, the Slavs are only one step away from being divided and reconquered again.

It is perhaps fitting that three months after the alliance known as The Three Bogatyrs, encompassing Russia, Krajina and Volga, was officially signed and founded in the town of Donetsk, not far from the tri-point of the countries' borders, that the most vocal supporter of the "Greater Russian" union, Alexei Krutov, died. More accurately, he died in June 30, 1951. Having been the ruler of Russia for over 20 years and having championed its struggle for independence a decade prior to that, Krutov immortalized himself as one of the most famous Russians of all time, on the same rank and personality cult as the 16th century revolutionary Ivan Kratkov.

In April 1950, Arabian seismologists picked up a faint and brief seismic signature coming from nearby Persia.

The echoes of the Troubles in Britannia, meanwhile, were picked up in the colony of New Sweden. With the fall of British authority over Virginia and New England, New Sweden and Spanish Caribbean had become the only colonies left in the New World - and while the latter ad already been thoroughly assimilated into Spanish culture and politics much like Argelia, the former was not happy with the current situation at all. Though sparsely populated, New Sweden had developed a sophisticated autonomous society with its own developed national identity, and this population sparsity had been the only thing keeping the colony in line for now. In 1950, the inhabitants of the colony decided to repeat the formula which worked in Virginia and New England - an independently held election, organized by the local separatists parties, formed the Assembly of Vinland - "Vinland" being the historical Viking name for the region, adopted by the independence-seeking politicians of the colony to differentiate themselves from the mainland.

Unlike in Britannia, the odds seemed to be against the Vinlanders, as Sweden was definitely not in the same shambling position - however, at the same time, Sweden proved to be unwilling to fight. New Sweden had been, through and through, a money sink since its foundation, requiring money for further colonization efforts and other matters. While in the past it used to pay for part of its cost through fur export, the continuous drop in fur demand as people switched to other types of textile meant that even that was no longer an option. Of course, outright abandoning their only major colony was not an option either, the Swedes still had their pride - thus, the colonizers and the colonists entered negotiations. While at first, the Vinlanders seemed to only want full independence, a further examination of their economical and geopolitical situation led the separatists to reexamine their choices, and eventually they agreed to a New France-style dominion approach. With all set and done, 1951 saw the foundation of the Dominion of Vinland - still with the King of Sweden as their head of state, but an independent democratic government and essentially full independence, minus some ties to Sweden.

Vinland's path through history would become a difficult one, however, and the nation would eventually become economically reliant on their southern neighbor and an economic giant, the Vespucia Free State.

Outside of the Crimean War and the collapse of the British Empire to carefully observe, Europe, especially Central Europe, was also setting its sights on Hungary - a country which had just done the unthinkable. The postwar period was not a peaceful one for the Hungarians - the nation found it hard to cope with the baggage placed under it after the Confederation of Unitarian States and the fall of Visegrad. Provisional governments kept forming and disbanding one after another, and public trust in the leadership sunk to a new low. With nothing else left to choose, and hoping to create even an ounce of stability in a figurehead, the Hungarian government of July 1950 decided to invite Karel von Luxemburg, a businessowner in Leipzig and a cousin of the deceased Ferenc III, the last monarch of Visegrad, as the first King of the restored Kingdom of Hungary, Karoly I. This was immediately met with negative responses from Poland and Bohemia - after all, a monarchist restoration in Hungary is only one step away from ambitions to recreate Visegrad, right? Despite Karoly I's constant guarantees that he does not seek to claim the vacant thrones of Poland and Bohemia, the relations of the three states suffered regardless.

The world was slowly, but surely returning to its normal rhythm, one so forgotten after the War of the Danube - however, that rhythm was not going to be permanent. For a particular death would soon set the conditions needed for a change to the history of the world so drastic that few could have anticipated it.