《Tanks Through Time》 Chapter 1: A New Awakening Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.¡± -Douglas MacArthur ¡­¡­. In an unending darkness, only the creaking of metal and moans of pain could be heard. Voices broke the eerie silence, as their owners slowly regained consciousness. ¡°Head¡­.hurts.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t see a damn thing.¡± ¡°Va¡­.Vasily¡­.he¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°Anybody got a light?¡± The rustling of clothing could be heard, followed by the sound of something being bashed against metal. *Thunk**Thunk* ¡°Com¡¯n you piece of shit.¡± *Thunk* *Thunk* ¡°Work, Damn it!¡± Something collided with metal as it was thrown across the enclosed space ricocheting into the head of one of the voices and landing into his lap. ¡°Zhukov you bastard!¡± ¡°That¡¯s lieutenant Zhukov to you Sergei¡± ¡°I don¡¯t plan on calling any dumbass who can¡¯t operate a flashlight a lieutenant.¡± ¡°Alright then smartass, you get the damn thing working.¡± ¡°Uh, not to interrupt, but Vasily is bleeding to death over here.¡± ¡°Goddamn it Vasily, as your commanding officer I order you to stop bleeding!¡± *Moans of pain* ¡°Atta boy.¡± Ignoring the painful moans from Vasily, Sergei began to tinker with the rectangular flashlight. Moving the switch into the on position did nothing so he opened the case and realised it was dark and he still couldn¡¯t see anything. After closing it and trying to work the switch he gave up and began to curse. ¡°Why won¡¯t this damn thing work?¡± *Thunk* *Thunk * A yellow light enveloped the inside of the steel behemoth. Zhukov looked over the status of his crew, noticing that aside from the chunk of metal lodged in Vasily torso, Igor¡¯s profusely bleeding head, and a small swollen lump on Sergei¡¯s head the crew was fine. ¡°Glad to see you all still look ugly as shit¡± Remembering his dying crew member, Zhukov reached down near Igor, opening up the first aid kit and frowning. ¡°Whose idea was it to replace most of the medical supplies with vodka?¡± ¡°Vasily.¡± unanimously came from the crew, except for Vasily who responded only with a moan of pain. Zhukov laughed maniacally as he took two bundles of gauze and a bottle of vodka from the kit. ¡°Well he¡¯ll be wishing he didn¡¯t in a few moments.¡± Zhukov passed the supplies to Igor and, after taking a bundle of gauze for himself ,passed the remaining supplies to Yakov. Yakov looked at the bottle of vodka in his hands and then at Zhukov. ¡°What am I supposed to do with this?¡± ¡°Pour in his wound after you rip the chunk of metal out.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s supposed to help?¡± ¡°Maybe¡­¡± Yakov shrugged and ripped the chunk of metal out of Vasily¡¯s side: ignoring the screams of pain, he reported back that the chunk of metal was a piece of the armor plating. He then uncorked the bottle and spilled most of the contents into the bleeding hole. The bloodcurdling screams were once again ignored as the wound was bandaged. Yakov looked back up at the lieutenant whose bearded face was plastered with a smile. After the screams died down a ferocious roar echoed outside of the steel enclosure. ¡°The Krauts fielding warbeasts?¡± The thought slipped out of Igor¡¯s mouth leaving the rest of the crew looking at him with expressions of shock. Igor worriedly looked around with confusion until he too realized. ¡°Wait¡­we were¡­¡± Zhukov sprung up hitting his head on the metal hatch above him. Throwing out a few curses he threw the hatch open and peered out. Only darkness greeted him. ¡°Sergei the flashlight!¡± This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Sergei quickly passed the flashlight to him. Resuming his examination of the area Zhukov returned outside expelling the darkness with the light. The flashlight revealed only rocky walls and more darkness. They were in a cave. ¡°Fuck¡­Fuck¡­.Fuck!¡± Zhukov¡¯s cursings that echoed throughout the cave were responded with another ferocious roar and small tremors that slow got louder and louder. The flashlight was quickly repositioned in the direction of the roar. However the light died out. ¡°This cursed thing!¡± ¡°Whats happening outside?¡± ¡°The fu¡­ck happened to¡­.my side?¡± ¡°Vasily is back!¡± Zhukov began smacking the flashlight onto the hatch in an effort to get it working. After a few whacks the light came back on and he pointed it back in the direction of the growls. The light revealed a mass of fur storming towards him. With wide eyes he quickly retreated back inside and slammed the hatch back down. ¡°There¡¯s a goddamn bear!¡± ¡°In the middle of a battlefield?¡± one of the crew questioned. ¡°Not quite!¡± The confusion of the crew was short lived as the beast outside began smashing on their hiding spot. ¡°Shit!¡± ¡°Vasily get this thing moving!¡± ¡°The fuck is going on?¡± Vasily asked while clinging to the bloodied bandage around his torso. ¡°Drive you bastard!¡± Vasily pushed in the clutch and brake and began feeling for the the gears. Curiously, it seemed the tank had been stalled in the highest gear. After forcing it back into neutral, he checked to see if the handbrake and pump were in working order. Then, starting the ignition sent the vehicle roaring to life. The interior lights came back, on basking the crew with light. Vasily grinned, blood dripping from his mouth, and used the horn, which nearly deafened the crew as using the horn in an enclosed space was a terrible idea. In anger, the bear outside began to attack more viciously. The vehicle shook a bit, sending the bottle of vodka Yakov had, rolling over to Vasily, who happily grabbed it and downed the remains. Zhukov looked out of the commander¡¯s view port and, upon seeing the massive bear that seemed to slightly tower over the vehicle, ordered Vasily to drive. Complying, Vasily sent the vehicle flying into the beast. Sadly, it was too massive to simply run over and their actions seemed to merely anger the beast further, more securely attaching itself to the front of the vehicle. ¡°Oi Zhukov..*hic*¡­I bet this here bear..*hic*¡­ still can¡¯t compare to da size o¡¯ yer ego.¡± Vasily drunkenly amused by his owned joke, chuckling as he shifted gears. With the engine providing more power, the beast slowly lost ground as it was pushed. After a few moments and another gear change white light could be seen glowing around the bear. ¡°Oh lordy¡­*hic*¡­he¡¯s a holy bear¡­*hic*¡­I ain¡¯t ever¡­*hic*¡­seen such a beautiful sight.¡± Tears streamed down Vasily¡¯s reddened face as he faced the sight before him. ¡°Vasily you damnedest fool, that thing isn¡¯t holy, the cave¡¯s exit is up ahead! Igor load er up! Sergei aim for it¡¯s ugly mug!¡± The crew did as ordered, but after seeing that outside the cave was just a seemingly endless field of snow spotted with decaying trees, he ordered Vasily to stop just as they were about the exit the cave. The vehicle screeched to a halt as the handbrake was pulled sending the bear rolling off into the snow outside, where it rose up to stand on its hind legs. The beast dwarfed the vehicle in its shadow and began to roar, sending slobber flying. ¡°Fire!¡± With a deafening roar and a flash of light, the bear¡¯s head exploded into gore. Zhukov shortly emerged from the commander¡¯s hatch and, after confirming the beast was dead, began to survey the snowy wasteland that laid outside the cave him. ¡°We sure as hell aren¡¯t in Kursk anymore.¡± Chapter 2: Damn Drunks Zhukov and his crew stood at the entrance of the cave, admiring the steel behemoth before them, a KV-1S. Looking back at corpse of the bear, they could only ponder how such a massive creature could exist. ¡°A bear that¡¯s as big as our missus here, unfucking believable.¡± ¡°Aye gotta agree with you there lieutenant, bloody corpse over there¡¯s gotta be three times bigger than any I¡¯ve ever seen.¡± ¡°I dunno Sergei, I¡¯s seen pictures o¡¯ that old bastard¡¯s mum. An I gots ta tell yah, she¡¯s a beast o¡¯ her own.¡± Zhukov walked over to Vasily with a beaming smile, but his happy expression was deceived by a pair of crooked eyes. Vasily seemed to sober up immediately as he realized his impending fate, but although his mind was clear he was too sluggish to avoid the fist to his gut. ¡°Oh fuck, I...I think I¡¯m bleedin again.¡± ¡°Yer just lookin to down another bottle.¡± ¡°Damn straight, hard enough to put up with this bullshit when I¡¯m wasted. How the hell am I supposed to do it sober?¡± The other four laughed heartily, their breaths turning visible in the cold environment. ¡°Now lieutenant, what''s next? I mean it¡¯s all good to be jolly now, but as far as I can see, we¡¯re damn far from Kursk. What with all this snow and all. Not to mention that snowy field out there hasn¡¯t a single footstep or track mark in it. I mean how the hell did we end up in this cave in the first place.¡± ¡°Aye, we¡¯ve got quite the situation on our hands here, so let¡¯s work a few things out. First of all as far as I can remember we were stormin down a hill joining the rest of the 5th then¡­¡± Yakov chimed in while shivering ¡°Then we took a hit...driver¡¯s hatch¡­ and everything went dark.¡± The five looked back at the KV-1S which had a chunk of metal ripped from the driver¡¯s hatch, exposing the driver¡¯s compartment. Nearby, a bloody chunk of metal lied next to an empty bottle of vodka. Vasily scratched head, beginning to speak with a worried voice. ¡°Must¡¯ve been the tank stallin. Would¡¯ve explained why the gear was left in the last position. So I took a hit¡¯n passed out then it must¡¯ve stalled, causin everything tah go dark.¡± ¡°Well, suppose it¡¯s useful information. Sadly doesn¡¯t explain this change of scenery. Anyways unless we start setting up camp here soon, we¡¯ll end up freezing to death. So Sergei, I need you to go make a list of all the supplies we¡¯ve got let. I know we used a chunk of it during the battle and I gotta know what¡¯s left.¡± ¡°Better be a nice warm fire when I get back.¡± Sergei climbed back into the tank while grumbling ¡°Vasily and Yakov, start setting up camp. Use anything we¡¯ve got to set up some simple fortifications. Don¡¯t want one of those bears mauling us in our sleep.¡± ¡°Better be a drink in it fer me.¡± ¡°Roger that.¡± Only Zhukov and Igor were left, as the others wandered of to complete their tasks. ¡°Alright Igor, let¡¯s go get some firewood.¡± Igor nodded and went over to the tank, removing an axe that was attached to the side. Before he could head off into the tundra, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Zhukov was behind him smiling while pointing to a unopened metal container, on the vehicle''s side. After seeing this, Igor¡¯s normally deadpan expression brightened, with a slight smile creeping over his face. Retrieving keys from their respective pockets, the duo unlocked the container. Inside were two worn M1891 infantry rifles with numerous markings near the end of the stock. *Haha! Is always good to see our old comrades, eh Igor?" ¡°Da.¡± Also in the container were ten stripper clips, loaded with 7.62x54r and ready for use, two bayonets, and two slings. Zhukov and Igor grabbed their old companions, splitting the clips between themselves. After loading the rifles, they pushed the bullets further down the magazine box. Then pushed the bolt into the firing position while simultaneously holding the trigger. This particular action was done to relieve stress on the bolt¡¯s spring, while also preventing a round from being chambered until the bolt was reworked. This was a more wise action than simply chambering a round and turning the safety knob on the bolt, as it removed all chance of the rifle misfiring. Slinging their rifles over their shoulders, Zhukov and Igor headed outside of the cave. The land was barren, save for a few clusters of dead trees, and covered in snow. Luckily, the snow was shallower than expected, reaching up only past their ankles. Thanks to their boots being knee high they wouldn¡¯t need to worry about any snow spilling over into them. However they were currently wearing their summer uniforms, and it was obviously below freezing. ¡°Ah shit, should¡¯ve put on more layers.¡± ¡°Still can¡¯t understand how the hell the summer scenery we had in Kursk turned into this.¡± ¡°If we had a damn radio we could¡¯ve tried seeing if anyone else was in the area.¡± ¡°Fucking snow, seen too many tanks stuck in snowbanks to try risking ours. If we lose it we''ll have to book it with the bare necessities, and with our luck we''ll end up dying a slow cold death. Far from civilization. ¡°Still better than mud though.¡± As Zhukov rambled on, Igor merely nodded and grunted to show that he was still listening. The two soon reached the first cluster of trees, totaling seven. While Igor began to chop, Zhukov stood watch. ¡°Well Igor, what say you about our chances of getting out of this mess?¡± After felling the first tree Igor turned back to face Zhukov. ¡°We have survived worse, brother.¡± ¡°Haha! True, True. Very true. Anything is better than Tannenberg.¡± ¡°Da.¡± The two hoisted the felled tree upon their shoulders, beginning the difficult task of lugging it back to the cave. When they returned, they were greeted by Vasily. Who had a bottle in one hand and a hatchet in the other. Next to him stood Yakov, who held a knife, licking his lips while staring at the bear''s corpse. After dropping off the log, Igor headed back out into the tundra. Zhukov remained, turning to the two misfits, he dropped his head while sighing. ¡°No point in letting it go to waste. I suppose we cou...¡± Before he could finish speaking, Vasily began to turn the log into smaller, more flammable pieces. While Yakov began tearing into the bear with a greedy look in his eyes. Zhukov didn¡¯t even bother finishing his speech, instead heading after Igor while chuckling to himself. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡­¡­. Hours later, the sun had just begun to set, casting an orangish hue into the sky. Having finished their tasks, five men gathered around a fire with a pot hanging over it. Yakov had made made a stew out of bear, snow, potatoes, and his own special blend of spices. The crew ate the delightful meal alongside rye bread. ¡°So Vasily how did you manage to set yourself on fire again?" ¡°Well you see sir, I was having trouble gettin the kindle to light so I thought I¡¯d use somethin a bit more volatile.¡± ¡°So, you used vodka?¡± ¡°Pretty smart, eh?¡± ¡°It would¡¯ve been, hadn¡¯t you spilled it all over your sleeves.¡± ¡°Well you¡¯da been pissed if I¡¯da used fuel instead.¡± ¡°Damn straight. Though it''s still fuckin hilarious you caught on fire.¡± ¡°Fuck you!¡± After Zhukov finished amusing himself, Sergei chimed in. ¡°So you ready to hear our current status?¡± ¡°Aye, suppose it''s time to see how fucked we are. Anyway, let''s start with fuel.¡± ¡°Luckily we¡¯ve got about 3/4ths left in the tank, along with four of those 20 liter jerry cans.¡± ¡°Hmm, in this shitty terrain we¡¯d be lucky to go 150 kilometers with that. Wouldn¡¯t even last us half a day of driving.¡± ¡°What do you want to hear next?¡± ¡°How''s our food supplies lookin.¡± ¡°Honestly, five days. Seven if we ration it now, though,¡± Sergei tossed his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the butchered bear meat, ¡°If we can preserve that, I could see use having enough to last a month.¡± Zhukov grinned, turning to Yakov who seemed to already be deep in thought on the issue. ¡°Salt it, smoke it, freeze it. I really don¡¯t care, but make it last.¡± Yakov nodded and went back to pondering. ¡°Anyways Sergei, how''s our weaponry lookin.¡± Sergei smiled, exposing a row of teeth minus one. ¡°I¡¯m glad you asked, what do you want first. Weapons or ammo?¡± ¡°Weapons¡± ¡°Haha, alright! Well to start off with, we¡¯ve got two DT machine guns that we can detach from the tank. Then for rifles, we have two M1891 infantry rifles, your¡¯s and Igor¡¯s. We also have my lovely lady, an AVT-40. For submachine guns, we¡¯ve only got your PPSh-41. For pistols, we¡¯ve all got our standard issue M1895 Nagant revolvers. Also in our arsenal are the two TT-33s, the ones that you and Igor were issued. Oh, and I almost forgot. My personal sidearm, thanks to the lend-lease, an M1911A1. As for bashing or slashing, we¡¯ve all got our NR-40 knives, along the two entrenching tools we''ve got packed away with the other gear.¡± ¡°And for ammo?¡± Sergei sighed at Zhukov¡¯s unimpressed response. ¡°Well for 7.62x54r, we¡¯ve got 27 full, 60 round round drums for the DT machine guns, along with one half used drum. I know you and Igor also have five stripper clips each, and I¡¯ve got three 10 round magazines for my AVT-40. For 7.62x25, we¡¯ve got five of those 71 round drums for the PPSh, along with six magazines of 8 rounds for the two TT-33s. I''ve also got three 7 round magazines of .45 ACP for my M1911A1. Lastly, for 7.62x38, we¡¯ve got 175 rounds split between the five M1895s, 35 rounds per person.¡± ¡°And how about shells for the 76mm cannon?¡± ¡°Well, there are 77 high explosive shells, 24 armour piercing, and 4 high velocity armour piercing.¡± Vasily, who had seemed dazed and oddly quiet, suddenly stood up and began to shout. ¡°But what about the vodka! How much o¡¯ that sweet nectar we got left?¡± ¡°You see that bottle in your hands.¡± ¡°Aye Igor, t¡¯what about t¡¯it?¡± ¡°That¡¯s was the last one.¡± Zhukov, Yakov, and Sergei quickly shifted their gazes to Vasily who was staring at the empty bottle in his hands while mumbling. ¡°My precious¡­¡± ¡°Vasily, I regret not letting you bleeding to death.¡± ¡°How can I be expected to do maintenance sober!¡± ¡°Fuck, and I was planning on getting wasted while smoking the bear meat.¡± Igor facepalmed and sighed at the sight before him. ¡°You damn drunks. How can all the vodka be gone, when you threw out anything you thought was a waste of space, in order to fit more vodka!¡± The four sighed in relief and began to laugh. ¡°Igor, don¡¯t scare us like that!¡± Having finished their meal the crew sat around their makeshift camp as the sun began to disappear over the horizon. They joked about their odd situation a bit more, before retiring to sleep. Except for Vasily, who continued to sit seemingly still in a daze. He continued to hold a half empty bottle of vodka, staring out at the setting sun until it was finally replaced by a calming darkness. Tears began to stream down his face as he spoke to himself. ¡°Another day...another day...that I must live on...without you.¡± Vasily shook his head, and after wiping away his tears, he took a swig of vodka. From behind, multiple shadows stalked their way over. They crept closer and closer, until they were just a few steps away from Vasily¡¯s back. Before they could make another move, Vasily slowly looked back. He''d stretched out his bottle of vodka towards the newcomers. One of the shadows crept towards the outstretched hand and after take a few whiffs of the bottle, began to drink sloppily from it. ¡°It is a sad world, to live we kill. We take away the future of another, because if we don¡¯t they take away ours.¡± Leaving the shadow with the bottle, Vasily rose up and went over to the tank. After retrieving a plain looking can, he returned to find the unsuspecting guests, three brown bear cubs, playing with the now empty bottle. Vasily crouched down nearby, as to not frighten them, and dumped the contents of the can on the ground. The cubs began to sniff the air, having smelled the spam that was on the ground. They cautiously approached Vasily, stopping at the spam that had retained a perfectly cylindrical shape. The three cubs seemed to argue amongst each other while drooling, as to who would be the first to test the food. Vasily laughed at the sight, causing the cubs to scamper back into the darkness. While they hid, he returned to the tank, fishing out another two cans from their supplies. He emptied the other cans near the first, and went off to the tents to sleep. The fire behind had been reduced to little more than smoldering hot coals. Chapter 3: Expedition With the morning light banishing the darkness, the crew woke cold and hungry. Yakov quickly prepared an unexciting breakfast of rye porridge with a side of rye bread. They greedily wolfed down their meals, as they waited for Zhukov to explain their next move. Sadly for them, Zhukov had prepared himself some tea and was taking his time to enjoy their predicament. Without any orders, the crews busied themselves with other tasks. Sergei went off to perform maintenance on the tank and weapons. Yakov continued to prepare the bear meat for long term storage, mainly salting and smoking the meat that had been left out to freeze overnight. Igor managed to grab Vasily before the latter could grab a drink, and drug him off to help collect firewood. Zhukov was left to ponder by himself. After about an hour Zhukov assembled the crew and finally began to tell them of his plans. ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure by now you all know that we are, to put it simply, fucked.¡± The other crew members nodded at the insightful words of their dear leader. ¡°Last thing I remember we were in the middle of Kursk, and there definitely wasn¡¯t any goddamn snow for miles. As such, I have no explanation for our situation. I do, however, know one thing. If we don¡¯t leave here soon, we''ll end up living on bear meat for the next month.¡± The crew was undaunted by this sudden declaration, much to Zhukov¡¯s dismay as he raised his index finger, continuing his speech.¡± ¡°Oh, and at this rate we''ll run out of vodka in five days.¡± Vasily fell to the ground and began sobbing uncontrollably, drawing a revolver from his waist and pointing it to his head. Yakov punched Vasily in the face, taking the revolver and shoving it into his own mouth. Sergei began to wrestle with Yakov for control of the gun. In the ensuring brawl, the revolver was discharged straight into the ceiling. The deafening roar of the firearm going off in an enclosed space left everyone stunned and silent, until a chunk of rock fell from the cavern¡¯s ceiling and crashed into Igor¡¯s head. Roaring in pain, Igor grabbed Yakov and Sergei, smashing their heads together, and letting their limp bodies fall to the ground. Zhukov was left speechless, his mouth open and index finger still raised. Ignoring the unconscious bodies on the ground and Vasily, who was still sobbing, Zhukov coughed and continued rambling on. ¡°Though if we can reunited with the main force, or even find a village nearby, we should be able to scrounge up some more alcohol.¡± Vasily jolted himself back on two feet and started to salute, while Yakov and Sergei also rose up, massaging their sore heads. Igor was cursing while tending to his head, that was once again injured. ¡°Anyways, right now we need to urgently search our surroundings, as such, I plan to leave the injured here and send out a scouting party consisting of me and one other.¡± Yakov looked at the revolver in his hands and, with a sudden revelation, placed it in Sergei¡¯s hands while smiling. Sergei was left dazed as Yakov collected Vasily and Igor, ushering them away from their little conference. Zhukov placed his hand on Sergei¡¯s shoulder while smiling. ¡°Well I guess yer the lucky son of a bitch.¡± Sergei sighed with resignation and went off to gather his gear. ¡­¡­¡­¡­. After gathering enough supplies to last a few days, Zhukov and Sergei went off into the snowy tundra. The two wore very crude rain capes, along with scarves and gloves. Which provided some resistance against the cold. Sergei carried his AVT-40 and M1911, while Zhukov had his Mosin Nagant and Nagant M1985. Zhukov had out a compass and was using it to head east from the cave. Not long after leaving Sergei turned to Zhukov with a worried look and began to speak. ¡°He¡¯s...acting up again.¡± ¡°I know.¡± Zhukov looked up at the blue cloudless sky. ¡°Vasily...he...lost everything in Stalingrad.¡± Sergei could only nod at Zhukov¡¯s words. ¡°For us it was just another battlefield, but for him it was his home.¡± Snow began to fall, softly landing around them. They continued their journey into the unknown as the snowfall slowly became heavier and heavier. ¡°A blizzard is coming, stay close.¡± ¡°Aye.¡± The gentle snowfall had turned into an angry whirlwind of snow and ice, which shrouded their vision. Zhukov chose to press on with Sergei trailing him. They traveled a few more kilometers without any dangers other than the blizzard, until Zhukov walked up a small hill and tripped over something. Quickly recovering from the unexpected incident, he peered a bit closer at the snow covered object. Buried under the snow was some sort of white painted metal. Zhukov called Sergei over, and two pulled out entrenching shovels. They began to dig into the side of the hill. Luckily the cold environment kept the snow light and fluffy, so digging wasn¡¯t too much of a hassle. After a few minutes of easy excavation, they uncovered a long cylinder. After more shoveling, they were able to make out the number 100 on the side of the object. Next the upper portion of the object was unveiled, from its shape the two immediately realized it was the turret of a tank. Zhukov began shoveling towards the bottom of the hill, revealing a symbol he knew all too well. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°An iron cross¡­¡± ¡°Zhukov, look up here.¡± Following Sergei¡¯s voice, Zhukov climbed back up the hill, finding Sergei poking at something with his shovel. ¡°I think I found the commander¡¯s hatch.¡± ¡°Good, we might be able to wait out the storm inside.¡± The two jammed their shovels into the hatch, using them to to force it open. Zhukov dropped down first, flashlight in hand. Sergei followed shortly after, closing the hatch as he entered. Unexpectedly, the inside was dark. Sergei was confused, as he¡¯d remembered his companion having a flashlight. His questions were soon answered as a light flashed on in front of him, revealing a pale corpse. Sergei started swinging his fists, while unleashing a stream of verbal insults. However, he reeled in pain after finding out the corpse he was punching had been preserved by the cold, making it a much tougher opponent than he had first thought. Off to the side Zhukov¡¯s maniacal laughter could be heard. ¡°Haha, careful Sergei. If you piss your pants, you may end up with frostbite.¡± ¡°Fuck you Zhukov!¡± Zhukov continued to laugh as he scanned the inside of the tank with the flashlight. ¡°It is strange though, I had expected more corpses.¡± Zhukov shined the light back on the only corpse. One that Sergei was currently shuffling through the pockets of. ¡°Aye, from the look of the tank outside it would seem we are in one of the fascist tanks, their Tiger model. Which normally has a crew of five, much like our own KV-1S.¡± Zhukov nodded at Sergei¡¯s words and continued to ponder, but before he could think too deeply, something about the body caught his attention. ¡°Hey, take a look at his head¡± Sergei obeyed, bringing the side of the corpse''s head into the light, revealing a hole a bit bigger than a thumb. Sergei turned the head to the other side, finding a bigger hole with a mess of red flesh and blood around it. ¡°Bullet hole?¡± Zhukov moved the light away from the corpse, shining it down towards where the driver and radio operator would have been sitting. A dull gleam had caught his eye. He moved closer, dropping down past the gunner and loader seats. At the very front of the tank he¡¯d found a pistol. He released the magazine, finding 6 rounds in it along with the one still in the chamber. ¡°Hey Sergei, looky here.¡± Zhukov brought the pistol into the light. ¡°Oh a Luger, nice find!¡± After searching a bit more he had also found that the MG 34, the tanks secondary armament, had been left behind along with around ten ammo cans with 250 round belts inside. Finding nothing else of interest, Zhukov moved back to Sergei. ¡°You find anything on the corpse?¡± ¡°Got three 8 round magazines for that Luger, other than that he had some personal notes on him. I can¡¯t read German though.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take those mags. Just leave the other junk here.¡± ¡°So what do ya think?¡± ¡°About what?¡± ¡°The death of our friend here. Do you think it was suicide, treason, or maybe¡­¡± ¡°Look, I don¡¯t really care about this corpse¡¯s back story....and I know what you¡¯re thinking. But that corpse could¡¯ve been here for months.¡± ¡°But...if the enemy is here, then the front lines can¡¯t be too far away.¡± ¡°They why did the commander choose to shoot himself when he could¡¯ve escaped with the others?¡± ¡°Maybe they were captured?¡± ¡°Sergei you saw the outside the tank. There wasn''t a single sign that this thing had ever been in combat.¡± ¡°Then why was it abandoned here? The tracks seemed to be in working condition outside.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe the engine broke down, or perhaps they ran out of fuel.¡± Sergei fell silent clearly demoralized. ¡°Listen...I know you want to reunite with our main forces, but we just don¡¯t know enough about what''s going on right now. With our sudden displacement and this change in weather...something is just...wrong. And if we just charge off and die, then we will end up dooming the others who are waiting for us.¡± ¡°So what are we going to do then?¡± ¡°We continue heading east, back into the Motherland, or at least where it should be.¡± Sergei nodded, seemingly calmed by Zhukov¡¯s words. ¡°All right then, I¡¯m gonna take a look outside to see if that storm died down.¡± Sergei forced the tank''s hatch open and was greeted by the warm rays of the sun. He climbed out after seeing the blizzard had been reduced to a light flurry. Zhukov followed out shortly, after having been beckoned to by his comrade. ¡°Alright then, east we go!¡± The two set off again into the tundra, the uncovered tank become flush with the snow and disappearing from their sight. ¡°So, what do you think?¡± ¡°You know what Sergei...I bet the Kraut realized he¡¯d run out of cabbage and shot himself.¡± Sergei could only sigh deeply at his statement. Chapter 4: The Village Zhukov and Sergei needn¡¯t move far to spot another landmark. With the dissipation of the blizzard, their field of view had been greatly extended. After a short walk a forest could be seen to the southeast. However there was something very unsettling about it. Despite the sun having completed a fourth of its journey to set in the west, the forest was eerily dark. A much more enjoyable find for them was what appeared to be a small settlement to the north. ¡°So, let¡¯s head to the forest then shall we?¡± ¡°Fuck that.¡± Zhukov pulled out a pair of binoculars and looked off towards the settlement, a small village enclosed by a palisade wall. Though he couldn¡¯t see the entire village from his position, Zhukov noted that it was a rather small village. The number of buildings totaled less than twenty, with the largest being a church that towered over the others. The church, in particular, had Zhukov¡¯s attention. It was a very familiar design, a rectangular construction with a bell tower at the front. However, a tree seemed to have grown straight out of roof near the rear of the church, rising up above the bell tower. Its lush green leaves covered in a layer of snow were a strange sight in the snowy tundra. Even the forest to the southeast had only dull evergreens. ¡°The hell¡­¡± Zhukov lowered the binoculars to find Sergei staring at him with a questioning look. Rather than explain, Zhukov passed the binoculars to his comrade and let him have a look for himself. Though to his surprise, Sergei didn¡¯t say anything about the tree. Instead he chose to speak about something more concerning. ¡°I don¡¯t see any smoke¡­¡± ¡°Bah, smoke¡­what about the giant fucking tree coming straight out of church!¡± ¡°Oh, isn¡¯t that odd.¡± Zhukov sighed and snatched the binoculars back. He peered back at the village to find that Sergei was right, there was no smoke. It was strange that in a such a cold environment there were no signs of any fires being used for warmth. ¡°Well, no use sitting around here.¡± Zhukov put away the binoculars and started heading for the village, Sergei in tow. The closer they got the more worried they grew. The first thing they noticed were the numerous claw marks that covered the palisade wall. Then there was the entrance, a large wooden gate that had been left open and unguarded. The worst, however, was the eerie silence that went undisturbed even as the two approached. Zhukov and Sergei entered from the village¡¯s southwest gate, their minds already filled with doubt. They ended up in large empty plaza of sorts with a few empty stalls and abandoned carts. On the opposite side of the village sat the church with the strange tree, its entrance facing them. The church was flanked by buildings on both sides, with unkempt streets between them. The buildings on the left formed a sort of residential district, while the right side seemed to have more industrial oriented buildings, the closest to them being a carpenter¡¯s workshop. More signs of conflict could also be seen from inside. The houses in the residential district having more claw marks along with broken windows. In the plaza, splotches of blood had frozen solid on one of the stalls, faintly glimmering in the light. However there was not a corpse in sight. The two walked to the center of the plaza where they found a small tree. Unlike the one sprouting from the church though, this one had died. Before they could investigate any farther, they were interrupted by the sound of a door being kicked open. Zhukov and Sergei turned to face the residential district where they found a moving monstrosity. ¡°Mother of God¡­¡± ¡°How the hell is it still alive?¡± The creature that was before them was a human, or at least it had been. It¡¯s body was covered in claw marks and was missing flesh from multiple limbs. The creature stared at Zhukov and Vasily with a head that had been caved in on one side, leaving an eyeball dangling outside its socket. It twitched a few times before charging them with an unnatural speed, especially for the corpse that it was. The two quickly shook themselves out of their daze and unslung their rifles. The corpse was fast, but it still had a lot of ground to cover. Sergei was first the chamber a round and after switching the firing mode to semi-automatic, he unleashed a torrent of hot lead into the chest of the corpse. Two of his three shots hit, knocking the creature to the ground. ¡°The fuck was that?¡± ¡°Wait look!¡± Zhukov redirected Sergei¡¯s attention to the corpse which had begun to raise itself back up. Before it could charge again though, Zhukov placed a round directly into the its head. Brain matter exploded out of the back of its skull and this time, it did not get back up. Sergei wanted to loose a few more rounds just to make sure, but he was stopped by Zhukov, who had placed his hand on his shoulder. ¡°There are more¡­¡± More undead poured from the residential district. Corpses crawled out of windows, fell down balconies, and shambled out of the shadows. Most of them were in the same battered state as the first, but others were missing anything from a single limb to half of their body. Zhukov and Sergei fired into the crowd, but barely managed to do much more than remove more flesh from the already dead bodies. ¡°Perhaps now is good time to run!¡± Zhukov turned to the gate they came through, only to find that more of the deceased had appeared, blocking it off. Instead of risking a confrontation, he turned back and grabbed Sergei who was still attempting to thin out the crowd of undead. The two ran towards the industrial sector which seemed to be relatively free of the dead. After passing the carpenter¡¯s workshop, the two found themselves next to a large barn. Before they could move past, one of the two large barn doors was kicked off of its hinges and sent crashing into Zhukov. A pair of hands emerged from the shadows, grabbing Sergei and throwing him inside. Sergei was left stunned after the throw sent him into the wall at the opposite end of the barn. The light pouring in from the entrance revealed his adversary, a German soldier. Or at least he was in life, as now he was nothing more than a moving corpse. On the undead soldier¡¯s head, a hat embedded with with the emblem of the German Reich sat. Sergei brought himself out of his daze and aimed his rifle at the corpse, only to hear the click notifying him that he was out of ammunition. As the undead broke into a sprint, Sergei grasped his rifle from the front, his left hand which was on the rifle¡¯s heat shield was seared by the still hot barrel. Ignoring the pain he charged and bludgeoned the undead monstrosity in its head with the rifle¡¯s stock, sending it to the ground. He then straddled the corpse as it lied on the ground, delivering blow after blow to its head with the butt of the rifle. He only stopped after what remained of its skull was nothing more than a bloody mush. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. After slamming a new magazine into his rifle and switching the firing mode to full automatic, Sergei charged back outside to find Zhukov stuck under the door, wielding only his revolver. Around the old bastard were seven corpses, their heads sporting new holes. Sergei lifted up the door, allowing Zhukov to crawl out from underneath. ¡°What now? They are blocking us!¡± Sergei cried out as he saw the corpses shuffling out of buildings, blocking off the route they had originally planned on taking. ¡°To the church, go!¡± Zhukov shouted out for Sergei to run, but the latter saw that Zhukov was limping and didn¡¯t immediately make a move. Having thought of a better plan, Sergei unloaded his rifle into the legs of the horde that stood between them and the church. Many of undead dropped to the ground and tried to get back up with their ruined legs, only to end up toppling back over. After slamming his last magazine into his rifle, he turned and lent Zhukov his shoulder. The two slipped past the undead who were still struggling to move and headed towards the church. ¡°Bah, I bet their faces were as ugly in life as they were in death.¡± ¡°Pretty wise of you to be cracking jokes about the dead, when you¡¯re on death¡¯s edge yourself¡± ¡°Da, save this wise man, perhaps he may shareth his wisdom after we get out of this fucking mess.¡± ¡°You know Zhukov, a beard does not make you a philosopher.¡± ¡°Eh, fuck you!¡± Upon reaching the entrance to the church, Sergei pushed open the heavy metal doors and peered inside. After seeing no obvious dangers, the two entered, shutting the heavy door behind. Sergei left Zhukov leaning against the wall and turned to investigate the church. It was a rather strange church compared to the ones he¡¯d seen before. There were no pews for sitting, in fact there wasn¡¯t much of anything church like. The entire floor was soil, upon which a field of clovers had grown. A variety of healthy plants were being showered with sunlight that came in from the windows. Where an altar would have normally been there was instead a massive tree trunk. It must have been the base of the tree they had seen from outside. At the front of the trunk sat someone dressed entirely in a black garb, their face concealed with a hood. ¡°So you¡¯ve co-¡± The man attempted to rise while speaking, but was quickly gunned down by Sergei. After a few gasps of pain and surprise there was utter silence. Not even the undead stirred outside. ¡°You know, I think he was trying to say something.¡± ¡°Not anymore.¡± Zhukov laughed heartily at his comrade¡¯s response. Sergei approached the man who he had just shot. After confirming that he was no longer breathing, he started to pat the man down. He didn¡¯t find much in the way of valuables, the most interesting find being the man¡¯s journal and the scraps of what appeared to be a map. Though even after skimming through journal, he understood nothing as it was in a completely different language. The map on the other hand, though it was just the corner of what was once a full piece, was undoubtedly more valuable. Though he still couldn¡¯t read any of the words or symbols. According to the map there was another village to the northeast, along with what appeared to be ruins further to the east. There was also a mark that was a different color than the others to the northwest. It looked like a clock tower and had been added to the map not too long ago, as the ink was still fresh. Sergei moved away from the corpse and towards the tree trunk. Embedded in the tree was a small greenish-yellow crystal cube, barely bigger than the tip of a thumb. Back at the entrance, Zhukov, having recovered from the pain that plagued him, moved back to the metal doors. He cracked them open to peer outside after hearing no sounds of the dead trying to break in. Outside the dead stood still as if frozen in time. ¡°Hey Sergei, come take a look at this!¡± The two cautiously crept outside the church, afraid of provoking the dead into attacking them again. They approached the closest corpse that was still standing. It had a gaping hole in its stomach from when it was shot earlier. After seeing no reaction from the creature despite their close proximity, Zhukov had a bright idea. He started to slap the corpse, in its face, repeatedly. Sadly, despite his best efforts to piss off the corpse, nothing happened. ¡°Is strange, very strange.¡± ¡°Haha, perhaps they have accepted us as their overlords!¡± ¡°Ha, maybe! Dance for me slave!¡± The corpse actually started to do a little jig. Zhukov was stunned that his command actually worked. Sergei on the other hand was smiling with excitement. ¡°Everybody dance!¡± The corpses obeyed breaking out in a lively dance. Even the corpses who were missing legs swung their arms up in the air to show their participation. ¡°No, no! All wrong!¡± Zhukov shook his head at the corpses shameful display. He went into a crouch and began to dance too, kicking his legs out while hopping about. Sergei laughed and joined in. With his back facing the ground, he alternated between using his hands and legs to propel his body back into the air. If he missed even a single beat he would¡¯ve ended up falling on his back. The corpses began to imitate their moves, soon the town of the dead looked like it was participating in a traditional Russian festival. They ended up dancing until the the sun had disappeared, replacing the day with the night. To their surprise, when night came torches that had been attached to the palisade walls lit up without any assistance. The town was engulfed in a warm pleasant light and the two would have continued dancing with their new compatriots, if it weren¡¯t for the dreadful screeches coming from the forest. Zhukov left Sergei to continue dancing with the dead and went to the church¡¯s bell tower to investigate. Upon reaching the top he pulled out his binoculars and looked to the southeast, towards the forest. Much to his dismay he couldn¡¯t see much of anything in the dark, still he continued looking. Moments later the night sky was lit up with gunfire, two planes were dogfighting to the east as they headed north. Though Zhukov¡¯s eyes remained stuck on the tree line, as the flashes of the battle in the air had revealed the source of the screeching on the ground. The creature had only been revealed for a few seconds, yet that was all the time Zhukov had needed to see that it was a horror that shouldn¡¯t have existed. It stood on two muscular legs. With grossly pale skin tinted blue, it had no fur or hair. It¡¯s arms almost touched the ground despite it standing upright, long sharp claws dangling from its hands. Upon its face, a mass of tentacles hung from where its mouth should have been. To Zhukov¡¯s horror, the beast¡¯s red beady eyes were staring straight back at him. Chapter 5: Troubles on the Homefront When Zhukov returned, Sergei bombarded him with questions concerning the aircraft that had passed nearby. Zhukov shook his head to show that he was listening, though his mind was clearly on something else. Finding few answers and gaining only more questions, Sergei gave up on the interrogation. The two spent the night in the church sleeping amongst the clovers. At first Sergei protested, wanting to instead find a comfy bed over in the residential district, but at Zhukov¡¯s insistence he stayed. Surprisingly, the inside of the church was actually quite warm, in contrast to the cold winds that blew just outside its doors. The clovers also proved to be more comfortable than first thought and the two quickly fell asleep while craddling their rifles. The next morning Sergei woke to a small bee landing on his nose. He yelped in surprise and jumped up to find many of its comrades tending to the plants inside the church. It was a beautiful sight watching them nestle on the flowering plants, gathering nectar and spreading pollen. The bees left as quickly as they had arrived, disappearing into the crystal embedded within the tree one by one. Sergei turned to where Zhukov had been sleeping and found his comrade smiling with a relaxed expression. Sergei didn¡¯t press the matter, being simply satisfied that whatever worries plagued Zhukov had disappeared. Just like the bees. The two munched on some rations before leaving the church. When they opened the bulky doors at the entrance they were greeted by the warm light of the morning sun. The sight from the church would have been grossly incandescent, if it weren¡¯t for the undead still dancing outside. Apparently they had forgotten about them after seeing the planes lighting up the sky like fireworks. ¡°Stop dancing and assemble here.¡± At Zhukov¡¯s command the undead from all over the village came lumbering and crawling over. In total there were 57 undead, with three of them being German soldiers. Upon closer inspection the undead Germans were wearing outfits akin to those that the German tankers wore. They must have been the missing crew of the Tiger I. Sadly, all but one were missing their weapons. Even the one who still had an MP40 slung was missing the magazine for it. Making the gun all but useless. Seeing the massive amount of undead in the village had frightened Zhukov. If they hadn¡¯t run into the church they would have surely died by their hands. ¡°Hey Sergei, how much ammo have you got left?¡± To answer Zhukov¡¯s question, Sergei removed the magazine from his rifle. After seeing that there were no rounds left in the magazine he pulled back the bolt, a round that had still been chambered was ejected. He held up the sole bullet as if it were a trophy of sorts. ¡°One.¡± ¡°Just one?¡± ¡°Well I only used my Avt-40. I still have three magazines for my M1911.¡± ¡°Wait¡­how many times did you shoot that man then?¡± ¡°The one in black? Nine times.¡± ¡°Holy shit!¡± ¡°What? He surprised me.¡± ¡°But I remember seeing only two bullet wounds!¡± ¡°You trying aiming accurately with this in full auto!¡± ¡°Then why use it!¡± ¡°Because is sexy rifle.¡± Zhukov seemed offended by this statement and shoved his Mosin Nagant into Sergei¡¯s face. ¡°Bah, only sexy rifle here is mine.¡± Sergei cradled his AVT-40 and attempted to comfort it while whispering. ¡°Shh, is okay baby. Zhukov is too primitive to understand the beauty of your gas cycling system." After the heated confrontation settled down the two decided to perform maintenance on their rifles before heading back to report their findings. Zhukov sent Sergei off to collect a metal container while he himself gathered wood for a fire. By the time Sergei returned with a bucket he¡¯d found, a small fire was already crackling in the plaza. They hung the bucket over the fire, using some sticks, and filled it with snow. While they waited for the water to heat up they each fired off three rounds to loosen up some of the grime in the barrels of their rifles. Though Zhukov had to lend Sergei some of his bullets. When the water heated up they filled their canteens and poured the boiling water down the down into the barrel from the receiver. They then pulled out their cleaning kits and removed the cleaning rods that were attached to their rifles. After assembling the cleaning rod and attaching the muzzle protectors to their rifles, the two began to scrub the bores with wire brushes. They repeated pouring water and scrubbing with the brushes a few more times. After feeling satisfied with their work, the two switched the wire brushes for cloth patches and went down the bores a few more times. The ammunition they had used was berdan primed and very corrosive. If left unchecked the corrosive chemicals would cause irreparable damage the the rifling. The two had seen many a rifle ruined by this and didn¡¯t want theirs to end up having the same fate. Luckily boiling water was able wash out the chemicals. If the barrel had been heated up through firing the process was even easier and resulted in a cleaner bore. To finish off their maintenance, the two lightly coated another patch of cloth with oil and ran it down the barrel a few times. Though water was as equally dangerous to the rifle as the corrosive ammo, as long as they dried and lightly oiled the metal no rust would form. Since they had cleaned the rifles from the muzzle instead of the breech, gunk had been dumped into the receivers. They needed to spend extra time cleaning out the receivers of their rifles because of this. Time that could have been saved if they¡¯d cleaned the rifle from the breech, but sadly, the cleaning rods they were issued were not long enough to do so. Zhukov also went on to oil all of his rifle¡¯s bolt except the handle. While Sergei lightly coated the moving parts in the receiver of his rifle. This helped prevent casings from jamming upon being ejected and ensured that the bolts would work smooth as butter. Feeling very satisfied with their work the two put away the cleaning supplies and put out the fire. They were almost ready to head back. But, before leaving they had to address the crowd of undead that had still not dispersed from the plaza. Zhukov went up to the closest one, a familiar undead with a gaping hole in his stomach, and shook his hand. ¡°Farewell my new comrades, may we meet again soon.¡± However he was a bit too vigorous with the handshake, accidentally detaching the arm of the corpse from its body. Zhukov tried to reattached the dismembered limb, only to see it limply fall back to the ground. He shrugged and gave up, leaving the limb where it lie. ¡°Eh, don¡¯t worry friend. You only need one arm to punch fascist after all.¡± Zhukov also ordered the undead to prepare a surprise for his comrades, whom he would be bringing back. Finally Zhukov and Sergei departed and began retracing their way back to the cave. ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­. Back out in the cold winter tundra, Zhukov and Sergei were once again slowly making their way through the seemingly endless field of snow. ¡°So Zhukov, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve had a chance to show you this.¡± Sergei pulled out the map scrap and handed it to Zhukov, who quickly looked it over. ¡°Hmm, it would would seem there is another village to the northeast.¡± ¡°Those planes we saw last night were heading that way too.¡± ¡°Indeed, perhaps we are close to the frontlines after all. Though¡­¡± Zhukov paused for a moment, thinking back to the moving corpses they had recently encountered. ¡°¡­I am fearful we may have ended up near a testing site for some sort of horrendous new weapon.¡± ¡°If only there was a survivor¡­¡± ¡°I think there was one.¡± This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡°Really?¡± Sergei was surprised, he didn¡¯t remember seeing any survivors. ¡°Yeah, you shot him.¡± Sergei went silent after that. The two soon came across the abandoned Tiger I, which signified that it was time for Zhukov to break out his compass again. ¡­¡­¡­ Hours later the two were back at the entrance of the cave. Luckily, no snowstorms had hindered their progress this time. Making the trip nice and easy. A bonfire burned gently at the entrance, Yakov close by. However the others were nowhere in sight. When Yakov saw the two approach he cried out in glee. ¡°Zhukov you¡¯re back!¡± Sergei mumbled something about not being appreciated, while Zhukov expressed his concern over the whereabouts of the others. ¡°Yakov, where are the others?¡± ¡°Vasily¡­he ran deeper into the cave¡­Igor chased after him. I tried to follow, but it was to dark to see anything!¡± ¡°Dammit, did he say anything before he left?¡± ¡°No, but we found rations left out to rot this morning, again.¡± ¡°Shit, Sergei stay here with Yakov. I¡¯m going after those two.¡± Zhukov left his rifle at the makeshift camp, instead wielding the flashlight as he ran into the darkness. Sergei and Yakov were left to watch as the light from the flashlight was slowly eaten by the darkness. At first Zhukov only heard the echos of his own footsteps, but soon he was able to make out the sounds of voices. As he grew closer to the origin of the voices he was able to make out more and more of what they were saying. Eventually he could hear Igor speaking. ¡°Vasily¡­we all have our demons. People like us¡­we wake only to the harsh pain of reality. Our scars¡­never fade.¡± Zhukov could see that Igor was holding a flaming torch. Next to him sat Vasily, who was staring absentmindedly at the wall at the end of the cave. Before Zhukov could interrupt, Igor had pulled Vasily up on to his feet, grabbing the pendant that dangled from his neck. ¡°We do not live because we want to. We live because we must.¡± Igor opened the pendant and showed Vasily the pictures inside. It was a tattered black and white photo that showed Vasily¡¯s family in better times, when they were still alive. Vasily was smiling, his arm around his wife¡¯s hip as they stood behind their three daughters. The memento broke Vasily out of his trance. ¡°Igor¡­they¡­they are dead. When¡­we heard the Germans were marching on Stalingrad we¡­tried to leave, but we were told there would be no evacuation. Stalingrad would not fall they said. But when fortifications appeared in the street the truth was evident. Then the air raids began¡­I¡­wasn¡¯t with them¡­when they died. I returned home to rubble¡­they never found the bodies.¡± Igor put his hand on Vasily¡¯s shoulder. Using his other hand he felt his own face, where the scars of chemical burns still hadn¡¯t faded. ¡°We must live for those¡­who cannot.¡± Vasily nodded, still seeming troubled, but back his own senses. Igor looked over to where Zhukov was and found him staring at his own shaking hands. Zhukov balled his hands into fists and shook off the feeling that had overcome him. He joined Igor in helping Vasily walk back to their camp. They returned to find Sergei and Yakov pacing around, clearly worried. When the two saw the Zhukov and Igor with Vasily in tow, big beaming smiles spread across their faces. Zhukov went up to Yakov and bowed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­for everything.¡± Yakov could only tilt his head at the confusing words. ¡­¡­.. After packing up their belongings and securing them to the KV-1s, they were ready to move out. Vasily sent the tank roaring to life and they set off to their first destination. Behind them four crude wooden grave markers stood valiantly, just outside of the cave. Within minutes they¡¯d arrived at the Tiger I. The crew quickly disembarked and went to work salvaging. This time Sergei took the commander¡¯s journal, adding it to his collection. In total they managed to salvage an MG38 along with ten ammo cans, each holding 250 rounds of 8mm Mauser on a belt. They also decided to take the ammunition for the Tiger¡¯s main cannon, though they couldn¡¯t use it in their own. They managed to salvage 20 rounds of HE and 23 rounds of AP. Before they departed for the village, Zhukov took a shovel and dug the snow off of the rear of the Tiger. With the snow gone the damaged engine compartment could be seen. The metal plating that would have hidden the engine was torn to shreds. Deep gouges could be seen on the engine itself. Zhukov shook off the uneasiness he was feeling and returned to join the others. They soon arrived back at the village, as like last time there was an unnerving silence present. Igor took the lead, rifle at the ready. Unlike Zhukov and Sergei, Igor opted to always have his bayonet attached. When he walked through the gates, an undead appeared and charged him Igor bayoneted the moving corpse with his rifle. Picking it up while it was still speared and slamming it back onto the ground. When he saw that it was still trying to move, even after being bayoneted in the chest, he stabbed the undead again. This time in head, ending the corpse¡¯s unnatural existence. Behind him Yakov was clapping his hands. ¡°Woah~¡± Zhukov shook his head and began a countdown. ¡°Fifty six.¡± Zhukov turned to see what Vasily was up to, as his comrade had been awfully silent. To his surprise, he found Vasily sniffing the air in the direction of the industrial sector. ¡°Something wro-?¡± Before Zhukov could question him, Vasily had already begun a mad dash towards the other end of town. Zhukov was left stunned as he saw another undead he told to lie in wait appear to ambush Vasily. Only to have the unnatural life snuffed out of him as he was thrown into a wall, his head splitting open. ¡°Fifty five.¡± Zhukov and the other three gave chase to Vasily, who had run into a building. They too neared the building, it looked uncannily similar to a tavern. Inside the breaking of glass and moans of undead could be heard. Zhukov continued to count down, the sounds of chaos inside notifying him of the deaths. ¡°Fifty four. Fifty three. Fifty Two. Fifty one. Fifty. Forty nine. Forty eight. Forty seven.¡± When they finally entered the tavern, they found a happy Russian enjoying some ale, surrounded by eight unmoving corpses with broken bottles stuck in their heads. Zhukov smiled and called the rest of the undead over, much to the surprise of Igor who demanded an explanation. Zhukov told his comrade of the events that had transpired the day before. Leaving Igor in disbelief. ¡°Wait¡­you are allowing these¡­things, which almost killed you, to walk free?¡± ¡°Well yes. They are adorable, like small kitten you see. Look at that one over there.¡± A familiar corpse with a gaping hole in its stomach pawed at the air with a single arm, attempting to imitate a cat. ¡°Adorable, yes?¡± Igor could only sigh The crew was happy for the break in the stressful events and began to happily drink alongside Vasily. Except for Igor who chose not to participate in the drinking portion of the festivities. After having a few drinks himself, Zhukov grabbed a familiar corpse, one with a gaping hole in its stomach and a missing arm, and poured alcohol down its throat. Unsurprisingly, the alcohol ended up spurting back out from its stomach. Zhukov was at this point to drunk to care, dragging his new friend off to find more alcohol. With his comrades happily prancing about behind him, Vasily smiled solemnly, raising a toast those who couldn¡¯t join him today. Chapter 6: On the Road Again Zhukov didn¡¯t want to stray too far from civilization, as the strange creature of the night still had him worried. So, after Igor roused the drunks the next morning, they were quickly off to pillage the town. Surprisingly, the village had little of value. The industrial sector contained a tavern, a carpenter¡¯s workshop, a warehouse, and a smithy of sorts. Though there were plenty of raw materials and tools in these buildings, none of it was particularly useful to them. Sergei had been hoping to find welding equipment, along with scrap metal, to patch up the hole that was still on the driver¡¯s compartment of the KV-1S. They had been using a patch of tarp to cover the hole. Sergei was worried that once Vasily sobered up, he would start whining about it. Much to his dismay though, the smithy had nothing more than rudimentary tools, unsuitable for the task. The residential district held even less valuables. The people living in the village must have lived a very frugal life before they became undead. Many of the houses had bows and, even stranger, swords. Not a single firearm in sight. Perhaps it was no surprise they succumbed so easily to their attackers. They did, however, find a variety of of iron and, what appeared to be, copper coins. Though since none of the mints were familiar to them, they left them where they were. The church proved to be the most useful, as inside a variety of plants bore both vegetables and fruits. Some were familiar, potatoes, carrots, cabbage, apples, grapes, and the like. Others were¡­unknown. Zhukov told Vasily he could bring one bottle of alcohol for every plant he tested for edibility. Vasily was more than happy to oblige and began to wolf down everything in sight. He even attempted to eat the bark off of the trunk of a tree, but was quickly stopped by Zhukov. Surprisingly, everything seemed to be edible and much of it was thrown in with their other food supplies. Having stayed true to his word, Zhukov had let Vasily take a burlap sack over to the tavern before they moved out. Though, much to Zhukov¡¯s surprise, Vasily had chosen to make the most out of the sack. He¡¯d returned, dragging behind him a torn burlap sack, upon which sat multiple casks and bottles. Zhukov shook his head, clearly displeased, but a promise was a promise. They tied the casks down to the back of the tank and gave Vasily a new sack to store the loose bottles in. Finally, the group was off again, leaving the undead standing aimlessly in the plaza. They were off to the next village. Hopefully, the next town would be a bit more normal, and a lot less dead. As the Russians disappeared off into the winter tundra, a familiar undead stood patiently, waiting. When the Russians were long gone, it eyes began to change. The brown eyes that had long since lost their shine, exploded with a greenish-yellow light. The undead turned back to face the others of its kind in the plaza, flesh beginning to fall from its bones. It calmly walked towards the center of the group, stopping to pick up its missing arm and raise it into the air. All the undead in the village began to growl with approval. ¡­¡­¡­. The crew was in good spirits, their stocks of alcohol having been replenished. Which made the dull ride a bit easier to bear. Unlike the short distance between the cave and the first village, the second village proved to be much further away. After three hours of driving towards the north east with nothing exciting occurring, Vasily called out with suprise. He¡¯d spotted something through the driver¡¯s view port. Zhukov opened up the commander¡¯s hatch and peered out with binoculars in hand. It was another settlement, the one they had been looking for. Unlike the last settlement, this one was built into a mountain, surrounded with colossal walls made of stone brick. A strange sight. The group rode on, hoping to find someone living this time, and perhaps more alcohol. ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­. High atop the stone walls, sat a stubby man with a beard that reached down past his knees. He was on the verge of dozing off, having just enjoyed a few pints of his favorite brew. The peaceful view of nothing but snow, being just too entertaining to watch. The stubby man¡¯s eyes opened with a jolt when he saw a small blob appear on the horizon, slowly making its way towards him. He quickly shifted through a pile of equipment that sat near his post, eventually finding what he¡¯d been looking for. A spyglass. He used his newfound equipment to peer closer at the blob that was approaching. It was strange dark green green beast. Looking almost metallic, with wispy smoke spewing out near the rear. A strange sight for sure. The stubby man rang a bell nearby, signalling the town of a possible attack. Other guards rushed over and took up positions along the wall, hidden from sight. The stubby man began to sweat when he saw the beast was heading straight for the entrance. But, right when the vehicle was about to crash into the gate, it slowed to a stop. To his surprise, a variety of humans came out of the beast, five in total. A human with a bushy grey beard that reached down to his chest, appeared first. His eyes were a pale blue, and his wrinkled face held the look of a seasoned veteran. The second was helped out by the first. His face was much more terrifying. He was completely bald, without facial hair. The left half of his face was covered in unnatural burn marks. The eye on the right side of his face was brown, the other was white and seemed ruined. He held a serious, almost menacing look. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. The third to arrive, came from the same place as the other two. He appeared to be much younger, perhaps middle aged. A long, deep scar extended from his right brow down to his lower left lip. Though both eyes were brown, his right eye seemed to have been made useless by the wound. This man seemed much more easy going, a smile plastered across his face. Which revealed a missing tooth on his upper jaw, where the scar on his face ended, beginning again on his lower lip. Below his beaming smile, was a very thick brown stubble. The fourth to arrive, came from the front of the machine. He wobbled about when he stood up near the others, who were still on the machine. In one of his hands, he held a clear bottle. He was also middle aged, with hazel eyes, complemented by a reddened face. He was clearly happy, a satisfied smirk stretched across his face. Patches of dark brown hair could be seen under his headgear, he had no facial hair. The human attempted to take a swig from the bottle, but toppled off the machine, ending up face first in the snow. The other humans roared with laughter at this sight. The last to arrive came from the same hatch as the human prior. He was clearly the youngest of the five. With a clean shaven, blond hair, and a pair of deep amber eyes. He looked around in confusion, clearly concerned about reason for the outburst of laughter. After seeing his comrade still face first in the snow, his face exploded with worry. He quickly scrambled over to help the, clearly drunk, human back onto his feet. The stubby man felt a chill go down his spine, and sprung up out of hiding, crossbow in hand. ¡°Bandits!¡± The other guards, upon hearing these words, also sprung out wielding crossbows pointed at the outsiders. ¡­¡­¡­¡­.. Zhukov had to blink a few times to dispel his disbelief. He looked around and saw no one other than his crew. ¡°Bandits? What bandits?¡± ¡°You¡¯re the bandits!¡± ¡°Us? Bandits?¡± ¡°Yes, you!¡± ¡°Look at us! we are clearly civilized folk.¡± The stubby man¡¯s jaw dropped. He couldn¡¯t believe such dangerous looking men weren¡¯t bandits¡± ¡°Well¡­prove it¡­¡± ¡°Prove what?¡± ¡°Prove that you aren¡¯t bandits, and we¡¯ll let you in.¡± ¡°Oh? And how do you suppose we do that?¡± The stubby man paused for a moment. He hadn¡¯t ever seen bandits in this godforsaken wasteland, but if there were any bandits, he was sure they would look like these humans. But, before he could think any further the leader of the human group spoke up once again. ¡°Okay, how about this¡­You let us in, and if we kill you, then you can kill us too.¡± ¡°What the hell kind of an agreement is that!¡± The stubby man was infuriated. He wanted to just shoot the human right where he stood. Though another one of the humans spoke up before he could. This time, it was the drunk. ¡°Mhpf¡­mphf¡­mffp mrpp fhmm.!¡± The youngest human gave the drunk a whack on the back, sending a mouthful of snow spewing out from his lips. ¡°We¡­we¡­we gots alcohol!¡± The stubby man scratched his beard, pondering. ¡°Alright! Let¡¯em in!¡± When the gates opened, Zhukov¡¯s eye twitched, but he didn¡¯t let the matter bother him for too long. They had finally found civilization. Though his displeasure returned as soon as they entered the town and saw the people who lived there. ¡°Oh fuck, did we end up in the Gulag after all?¡± Zhukov couldn¡¯t help but express his disbelief at the sight before him. Countless midgets, as far as the eyes could see. Some were stocky, with long beards. Others were thin with long pointy ears, some green and others grey. ¡°Gulag? No this is the town of Kelturm, named after the chief, Kel.¡± ¡°What does Turm mean then?¡± Yakov was curious. ¡°Fuck if I know! Anyways I¡¯m Grundolf, leader of the guard here. Sorry bout the mess back there. Though you were a bunch¡¯a bandits.¡± ¡°Do you get bandits around here often?¡± ¡°Nope. Never.¡± Zhukov¡¯s eye twitched again at Grundolf¡¯s blunt response. ¡°Any who, I¡¯ll buy you all a few pints as an apology. Come with me.¡± Vasily was the first to follow, happy to have a chance to drink more. He was followed, reluctantly, by his comrades. They made their way through the crowds of tiny people, who stared at them with curiosity and wonder. Soon they¡¯d arrived at a tavern, it was hard to miss, having a giant sign with a beer mug hanging right over the front door. When they entered, the first thing they noticed were two other humans, who appeared to be rather displeased by their sudden appearance. ¡°Oh Schei?e, It¡¯s ze Russians.¡± ¡°Aw, bloody hell.¡± Chapter 7: Tavern Grundolf brought the Russians over to sit with the other humans, thinking that they were associates. He ordered everyone at the table a round, in order to loosen up the strange tension in the air. In the corner of the tavern a piano could be heard, softly playing. Zhukov and his comrades were have a stare down with the other two humans, both of whom were wearing jumpsuits and aviator helmets. Though they both seemed to be pilots, that was the only similarity. One had the obvious markings of a German pilot, the other, a British pilot. ¡°Been awhile since I¡¯ve seen a Tommy and a Kruat together, sharing a pint.¡± ¡°It¡¯s been awhile since I¡¯ve seen ze sober Russian.¡± ¡°Not for long¡­¡± The group downed their glasses without saying much else. What followed was an awkward sort of silence. ¡°I suppose you fellows aren¡¯t on good terms then?¡± Grundolf wasn¡¯t one to enjoy drinking in silence. ¡°Well we were at each other¡¯s throats a few days ago. Which is why I¡¯m surprised this Tommy here seems to be siding with our common foe.¡± Sergei was very blunt, slamming his empty mug down and requesting a refill. ¡°Oh, is ze Russian fearful for ze war. Too bad ze war is far behind us now.¡± The German was saddened by his own words. His brown eyes seemed to droop as they looked down to his mug. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Oh, you haven¡¯t figured it out yet? Ve are not in our own vorld anymore.¡± The Russians were stunned. Perhaps it could have explained the strange occurrences they¡¯ve encountered, but it was still a hard truth to take. Well, except for Vasily. ¡°Ey~, You got anything dat doesn¡¯t taste like piss ere?¡± Vasily had called out to the waitress that had been bringing them drinks. She almost looked offended by the statement, but they couldn¡¯t tell. All the tiny people in the town looked as if they were angry straight from the womb. Grundolf sighed and began to feel around his pockets. He withdrew a variety of coins and gave them to the waitress, asking for something a bit stronger. She returned quickly, bringing with her a new round of drinks. Vasily was satisfied with the new brew, downing it with an unquenchable thirst. ¡°Ah, dat hit da spot. Ey, you funny hat bastard over der. Why aven¡¯t ye been talkin? Makin us seem like we¡¯re da crazy ones.¡± The British man fondled his mustache and, after taking a sip of his drink, finally spoke. ¡°Well, I was hoping all you blokes would have it out and be on your way. But, doesn¡¯t seem like that will be happening now will it?¡± ¡°Zis would not be, had you left me in zat wreck.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be getting all mopey on me, you and I both know why I got you out of that mess.¡± ¡°But you got me out none ze less.¡± While the German and British pilots were improving their relationship, the Russians were improving their drinking skills. With alcohol pumping through their blood, everyone became a bit friendlier. Except for Igor, who kept passing his drinks to Vasily. ¡°So, who are you two anyways?¡± The British pilot introduced himself as Jack, the German pilot as Hans. The Russians shared their names too. After the introductions, Igor turned to Grundolf. ¡°So, where are we then?¡± ¡°Wut? Did ye suffer a concussion? We¡¯re in Midgard you daft fool!¡± ¡°What, didn¡¯t you hear our conversation from earlier? We aren¡¯t from this place.¡± ¡°Oh, sorry. I twas just lamenting all me money you¡¯ve been drinking away!¡± ¡°Hey, you¡¯re the one who offered to buy us a few rounds.¡± ¡°Aye, that I did. Though I¡¯m thinking you¡¯ll be paying me back soon enough.¡± While Igor was left confused, Zhukov leaned over the table and whispered into Hans¡¯ ear. ¡°So uh, by any chance were you guys confused for bandits too?¡± Hans was sent roaring in laughter at this revelation. ¡°Haha, oh schei?e. Ze Russians were confused for bandits!¡± ¡°Haha, you blokes are full of surprises, aren¡¯t you.¡± Zhukov drank in silence. ¡°You know, you guys are quite fluent in Russian.¡± Yakov¡¯s cheeks became rosy as he asked the others a question. ¡°Russian? I don¡¯t speak any bloody Russian.¡± ¡°Den how da feck er yo-¡± Vasily¡¯s head dropped the table, sending a thud resonating in the tavern. He had passed out. Grundolf blinked a few times at the strange sight, but after seeing no one else concerned, disregarded it. He then went on to answer Yakov¡¯s question. ¡°Well I don¡¯t know too much about it, since I don¡¯t care much for the legends. But, from what I remember after the great one killed the eater of the world tree; he brought peace to the lands with magic. Supposedly, scholars are claiming that the ¡°peace¡± he brought was in the form of a universal language, only for the intelligent races of the world of course. The scholars in the Hub would be able to tell you more.¡± ¡°Da fuck?¡± ¡°See, I told you zis is not our world.¡± ¡°Well, where is this Hub place then?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a few days travel to the northeast. We are one of the few settlements that exist outside of the Hub. Which reminds me, we lost contact with the only human settlement in the area a few weeks ago. All our attempts to reestablish contact¡­were failures. Not a single being we sent returned. And you fellows here just so happened to coming from the direction of that very village.¡± This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Zhukov was smiling, seemingly unfazed by the news. He wasn¡¯t nearly as drunk as Vasily was, but he was definitely more than a bit tipsy. ¡°Oh, those jolly good fellows!¡± Grundolf nearly jumped out of his chair. ¡°Are they okay!?¡± ¡°Yup, except those dead ones. Oh, and that one fellow, I tore his arm off yah see. Poor lad.¡± ¡°You damn bandits!¡± Grundolf began to reach for a weapon, but before he could, Igor raised his hands up and attempted to calm him down. ¡°Wait, wait. I think there is a misunderstanding here. They attacked us first!¡± ¡°Of course, because you were bandits!¡± The waitress that had been serving them drinks, after hearing bits of the story, decided to club Sergei with a chair. Igor smacked his forehead as he saw Sergei get knocked out in a single blow. Zhukov was enjoying the moment, laughing along with Hans and Jack. ¡°Dammit, they were undead!¡± The waitress, who was about to club Yakov too, had her face flush with embarrassment, She quickly placed the chair back and retreated from their sight. ¡°Oh, well why didn¡¯t you just say so?¡± Grundolf slammed an axe into the table and left it there, a chill went down Igor¡¯s spine. ¡°I¡­I¡­you know¡­nevermind. Anyways everyone was already dead when we got there. Zhukov could tell you more.¡± Grundolf looked back to Zhukov who, like Vasily before him, had smashed his face into the table as he passed out. Igor¡¯s eye twitched when he saw this. ¡°Goddammit¡­¡± ¡°Well chaps, it¡¯s been a delightful evening. Alas, I must return¡­to¡­to somewhere.¡± Jack got up from the table and started to wobble his way to the tavern¡¯s exit, but he fell after a few unsteady steps. He didn¡¯t even try to rise back off the hard wooden floor, beginning to snore shortly after. ¡°Haha, Jack must be be one of zose, what do zey call zem? Ah, yes a bloody lightweight.¡± Zhukov roared in laughter at Hans¡¯ crude joke. Meanwhile, Yakov, who had been sitting mostly in silence, suddenly rose up from his seat and strode over to the pianist. The pianist noticed neither Yakov nor the blow to the back of his head. Yakov put on the short man¡¯s bowler hat and started playing a ragtime tune. The waitress had another chair in her hands, ready to finish what she¡¯d started. But she was stopped by the tavern¡¯s owner. Grundolf felt a chill as the owner glared at him. His wallet was going to be a lot smaller when he left. ¡°Zis music¡­I must become one with ze dance!¡± Hans too got out of his chair. He grabbed the waitress, who could barely reach up to his stomach, and began to twirl her around in a dance. The small lady was not pleased by this however, and she retaliated by delivering a bone crushing punch, straight into Hans¡¯ family jewels. ¡°Oh, schei?e¡­¡± Hans fell to the ground, foaming at the mouth. Behind him, the waitress had her fist raised in triumph. Grundolf clapped for her, laughing nervously, while Igor simply hung his head in shame. The tavern was once again thrust into an uneasy silence as Yakov fell asleep in the middle of his song, his head striking a variety of notes as it collided with the keys. Grundolf and Igor looked around at the unconscious bodies that littered the tavern. ¡°Not my problem.¡± Igor went over to Zhukov and fished a gold ruble out of the latter¡¯s pockets. He then went to the tavern keeper and dropped the gold ruble into the man¡¯s hands. ¡°I¡¯ll take a room.¡± The eye¡¯s of the tavern keeper shined with a greedy light as he disappeared into a back room. He reappeared after verifying that the coin, was indeed, made of gold. He dropped a variety of shimmering coins and a key back into Igor¡¯s hands, then shooed him off towards a staircase. ¡°Third room on the left upstairs.¡± Igor nodded his head and disappeared upstairs, leaving Grundolf with the six unconscious drunks. Grundolf sighed, regretfully pulling out more coins and passing them to the tavern keeper. He then began the tedious task of dragging the limp bodies out into the streets, one by one. After Grundolf disappeared with the six bodies, the waitress woke the pianist. ¡°My hat!?¡± The pianist felt his balding head and looked around in confusion. ¡­.. Zhukov woke up to the stench of alcohol emitting from Vasily¡¯s mouth. He pushed Vasily¡¯s still sleeping body away and took a look at his surroundings. ¡°Aw, c¡¯mon!¡± Zhukov was in the back of a horse drawn carriage, along with his drinking companions from last night. Yakov was drooling on Han¡¯s shoulder, Sergei was hugging Jack while sleep talking, whispering something about being the one who traded Zhukov¡¯s greatcoat for his rifle. Zhukov would not be forgetting that anytime soon. But, there were more important things to deal with. Zhukov peered over the cart¡¯s railings and found that he was, once again, traveling through the winter tundra. The wagon was being driven by Grundolf and two others. Igor was nowhere in sight. Chapter 8 - Ruins Zhukov was the only one awake in the back of the wagon. Though he was half tempted to just lob himself out of the cart, he let his curiosity get the better of him. ¡°Oi Grundolf, ye bastard. What the hell¡¯s going on.¡± ¡°Oh, one of the drunk¡¯s woke up?¡± One of the tiny men alongside Grundolf spoke up. ¡°Damn straight. Now answer me before I get to tearing your arse out your throat!¡± ¡°Calm down there Zhukov. I did say you¡¯d be paying me back for the drinks after all.¡± ¡°Oh I¡¯ll be paying you back alright. With about six feet of dirt!¡± Zhukov grabbed one of the guards and pulled him into the back of the wagon. He drew his revolver and put it up to the grey skinned being¡¯s head. Grundolf turned back and frowned. ¡°We¡¯re just going fer a bit of dungeoneering lad. No need to be pissin yer pants back there.¡± ¡°Fuck you, I ain¡¯t going tah jail.¡± ¡°Jail? I may be a guard, but it¡¯s not like I¡¯m locking you behind bars or anything.¡± At that very moment, Hans woke up screaming. ¡°Oh no, not ze sex dungeon! Zis isn¡¯t what I signed up for!¡± ¡°By the gods. Are you people mad! A dungeon is just a place filled with treasures of all kinds.¡± ¡°Lies! Damn lies! Ze dungeon of ze sex has no treasure, only sadness and self-loathing.¡± ¡°Grundolf, I usually have faith in your choice of companions for these dungeon trips, but not this time.¡± The gray skinned man expressed his worries as he began to sweat. Grundolf sighed and, after handing the reins to the other guard, turned back to face Zhukov and Hans. ¡°Now, listen here. Dungeons are relics of times long past in these lands. In the olden days, civilization was spread far and wide, but now...only ruins remain. The harsh climates and dangerous beasts who live in these lands forced us back to the Hub. Only in recent years have we been able to reclaim the lands we¡¯ve lost, but¡­¡± Grundolf¡¯s shoulders slumped. He was clearly not happy with the topic. ¡°As you can see, we are still facing incredible difficulties. The human settlement that you came from, it was one of only two in this land. Now, with the news you¡¯ve brought, we are the only ones-¡± *Bang* Grundolf¡¯s sad story was interrupted by Zhukov discharging his firearm into the air. ¡°Back to the point.¡± ¡°Aye, Aye. Damn those things are loud. Anyways we scavenge these ruins for abandoned treasures. They fetch a high price back at the Hub. You help me scavenge them, and I¡¯ll help you get to the Hub.¡± Zhukov, seemingly satisfied with the answer, let go of the man he was holding. The grey skinned man breathed a sigh of relief, returning to the front of the cart. Zhukov looked over his companions and was struck with a sudden revelation. They barely had any weapons. ¡°Wait dammit, we need to go back!¡± ¡°Too late now laddie, we¡¯ll be at the ruins in an hours time.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t even let us prepare you fucker!¡± ¡°Well, you could¡¯ve. If you weren¡¯t all dead drunk.¡± ¡°And where the hell is Igor!¡± ¡°Oh, uh...funny story. You see he bought a room at the tavern.¡± Zhukov was about to tear his hair out. ¡°And we couldn¡¯t!¡± Grundolf whistled nervously, pretending that he didn¡¯t hear anything. Zhukov smacked his head and looked over the equipment they had, which wasn¡¯t much. His crew still had their sidearms, but since they didn¡¯t bring any spare ammo, they were left with only what was loaded. Hans and Jack didn¡¯t appear to have any weapons at all on them. Zhukov shook his head at the poor situation they were in. ¡°How did you expect us to defend ourselves if we didn¡¯t have any weapons?¡± ¡°Well, to be honest, I wasn¡¯t expecting you to do much other than carry luggage.¡± ¡°Zis...Zis I definitely did not sign up for.¡± ¡­.. With nothing but time to waste while waiting to arrive at their destination, Zhukov brought up a few topics he was concerned. ¡°So, what the hell is this Hub place anyways?¡± ¡°The Hub is the last bastion of civilization. The only safe place in these god forsaken times. Though, even that may not be for much longer¡­¡± ¡°And you were saying something about lands?¡± ¡°Oh, yes. You see currently we are in the realm of Midgard. Each land is surrounded by mountains in every direction. The only connection between these lands, as far as we know, is the Hub. Right now we are in the lands of Kyske, of the never ending cold. To the north are the swamplands of Inurea. To the east, the plains of Thasil. In the northeast, lie the endless deserts of Urlagh.¡± ¡°I suppose Hans was right, we aren¡¯t in our own world anymore.¡± ¡°You would doubt Hans? Zat makes me sad.¡± Zhukov ignored Hans and continued on with his questions. ¡°So, what...are you then?¡± ¡°Ah yes, I suppose you¡¯ve noticed by now. We aren¡¯t quite men. Well, I¡¯m a dwarf. Skreebit on my left here is a ratman. The man you were holding hostage, Joxil, is a Gremlin. ¡°I am Skreebit. I like many shiny. You make Skreebit many shiny, and Skreebit will make you many less shiny.¡± ¡°Is he...Is he okay?¡± ¡°Um, well Skreebit¡¯s race is a bit special. They are intelligent of course, just not very intelligent.¡± ¡°Skreebit will have all the shiny! None shall stop Skreebit! Except for maybe Skreebit.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a Joxil, a Gremlin, I hope we ca-¡± Before Joxil could finish his spreech, Jack had woken up and begun strangling the poor Gremlin. ¡°Damn dirty Gremlins! Always fucking with my Hurricane! I would¡¯ve still had a plane to fly, hadn¡¯t you dirty bastards loosened the bolts on my landing gear!¡± The Gremlin was clawing at the hands around his neck, but the difference in strength between the two was apparent. Zhukov managed to pull Jack off of the Gremlin, throwing him down onto Sergei. ¡°Fuck!¡± ¡°Oops, sorry Sergei.¡± ¡°Fuck you Zhukov! I was having the most pleasant dream about my rifle. Wait, where is rifle anyways?¡± Jack picked Sergei up by his collar, and began to land a series of blows onto his face. ¡°Damn dirty Gremlins!¡± ¡°The fuck did I do!¡± ¡°Hey Jack, he¡¯s not a Gremlin.¡± Jack dropped Sergei, letting him fall back into the wagon. He laughed nervously as he patted a very pissed off Sergei on the head. Sergei was about to express his displeasure, but was interrupted by a declaration from Grundolf. ¡°Oi lads, we¡¯ll be nearing the ruins soon.¡± Everyone who was awake peered out of the wagon, ahead was a thick forest. ¡­.. The wagon was too large to maneuver in the forest, thus it was left behind. The horses were tied up to trees, and the rest of the sleeping drunks were woken. Most of them seemed a bit too hungover to care about their situation. Grundolf handed everyone a rucksack and they set off into the woods. After a short walk they spotted a clearing up ahead. In the clearing the mossy ruins of a stone building could be seen. Zhukov grabbed Grundolf and yanked him back before he could walk any further. ¡°Wait, look.¡± Next to the ruins, a small campfire was burning. A few men surrounded the fire. Though Zhukov had stopped Grundolf, Jack and Hans had continued on, nearly emerging into the clearing. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Hey Hans, don¡¯t these fellows look like friends of yours?¡± ¡°Oh, yes I know zese people vell.¡± Hans walked out into the open and cleared his throat, attracting the attention of the men. ¡°Hon hon, ve ve, baguette! I am ze Frenchman!¡± Hans posed before the dumbstruck men, his arms spread wide. They were not pleased with his performance, seeming almost insulted by it. ¡°Dammit Hans, those were Italians!¡± ¡°Oh, I can never tell ze difference.¡± The Italian soldiers raised their rifles and started firing at the two, who had managed to dive back into cover. ¡°Fall back you dumbasses!¡± Zhukov called the two back, and they happily rejoined the others. ¡°Sergei, Yakov, Vasily. Go left and get around their flank. Grundolf, Skree-fuckface, that Gremlin thing. Get behind cover, a rock or something, and wait. Hans and Jack, get behind me and hide.¡± Sergei¡¯s group drew their sidearms and began to crawl along the forest floor. Grundolf and his associates were a little offended by Zhukov¡¯s words, but under the thunderous roar of gunfire, they were more than happy to hide. Hans and Jack hid in the brush of the forest behind Zhukov. After a few minutes, the roars of gunfire died down. Zhukov lied in wait, his back to the tree he was using as cover. Eventually, the crunching of leaves could be heard as footsteps grew closer. Skreebit¡¯s curiosity got the better of him, as he peeked out from his cover. Much to his dismay, he found one of the Italian soldiers pointing a rifle straight at him. The soldier fired, his shot ricocheted off the the rock Skreebit was behind. Skreebit screamed, the Italian screamed back. The soldier charged, his bayoneted rifle held like a spear. He sprinted past the tree Zhukov was hiding behind, and was stopped in his tracks by a fist to the face. When the man fell to the ground, Zhukov shot him in the head. Zhukov picked up the corpse¡¯s rifle and worked the bolt, chambering the next round. He emerged from his cover and fired at the first soldier he saw, who dove for cover. Zhukov then threw the rifle to Jack, switching back to his own sidearm. He signalled his crew to start their assault on the enemy''s flank. With their flanks compromised, the Italians started to fall back to the ruins. Jack was attempting to fire on them, but after three shots the rifle¡¯s clip fell out of the magazine. ¡°Aw, bloody hell. I think it broke.¡± Zhukov sighed and grabbed the ammo pouch on the unconscious soldier¡¯s waist. He threw it to Jack, who raised an eyebrow after seeing the en-bloc clips inside. But, after a few moments he managed to figure out how to reload the rifle. On the left side Sergei¡¯s group had also managed to grab a rifle from a corpse, and were advancing towards the clearing. They had expended all the ammo for their sidearms though, leaving them with only the rifle. Zhukov ordered everyone back to regroup. ¡°Hey Grundolf, how badly do we need these ruins?¡± ¡°Depends, how badly do you want to get to the Hub.¡± Zhukov sighed after seeing Grundolf¡¯s sheepish grin. ¡°Alright then. Sergei, Vasily, Yakov, Jack. On me.¡± When everyone arrived, Zhukov began sharing his plans. ¡°Jack and Sergei, I need you to provide covering fire with those rifles. You don¡¯t need to hit anything, just fire as fast as you can in their general direction. Make ¡®em think we are all still bunched up over here. Vasily, Yakov, and I will get around behind them. We¡¯ll take ¡®em by surprise.¡± Sergei and Jack found cover near the clearing, and began firing on the ruins. The Italians were quick to return fire. In the meantime, Zhukov took his group along the edge of the clearing. Their goal was to make it to the building without being spotted, as they had little more than a single revolver. Once they made it close enough, the group dropped to the ground and began to crawl towards the ruins. They crawled to one of the few walls left standing and lied in wait. Zhukov peered into the ruins, finding only three of the Italian soldiers left standing. Now all that was left to do was wait for the perfect moment. They didn¡¯t have to wait long, Jack and Sergei had expended their ammunition and were starting to reload. With no more gunfire heading in their direction, Zhukov signalled his group to attack. Yakov and Vasily brandished their combat knives and charged at the the two closest soldiers. Behind them, Sergei loosed a short volley at the furthest soldier from them. As the soldier lost consciousness from blood loss, he futilely fired his rifle into the air. After hearing the gunshots, and the screams of his dying comrade, one of the soldiers turned back to find Yakov charging him with a knife. The soldier attempted to shoot Yakov, but the latter was close enough to redirect the rifle with his hand. The bullet was sent off target, harmlessly hitting a stone wall. Yakov followed up with a slash to the neck, but the soldier managed to step back, resulting in little more than a scratch. The two were nearly in a deadlock. The soldier had a rifle, but he was too close to use it effectively. Instead of chambering another round, the soldier attempted to bash with the butt of his rifle, but he was tackled to the ground by Yakov. The soldier was stabbed repeatedly in the heart, sending fresh blood splashing up onto his killer¡¯s face. The Italian weakly raised his arm, only for it to go limp as his vision faded to blackness. Vasily¡¯s target was much more prepared than the other two, having already brandished a bayonet. Vasily turned back and began to run away with the soldier chasing behind him. ¡°Get down!¡± Vasily dove to the floor. Zhukov fired a single shot into the chest of the charging soldier. Though the shot hit the soldier directly in the chest, he didn¡¯t stop his adrenaline fueled charge. Zhukov threw his revolver, much to the surprise of the soldier, who ended up getting hit directly in the face. Vasily took this chance to grab the soldier¡¯s own rifle, bayoneting him while he was still stunned. Zhukov walked over and picked up his revolver. He was in the middle of looking it over for damage when bullets started hitting the wall nearby. ¡°Hey dumbasses, they¡¯re dead!¡± Though to his dismay, his comrades took his words in the wrong way. ¡°You bastards, you killed our comrades.¡± ¡°Look, its me Zhukov!¡± Zhukov popped out of the ruins, his hands in the air. ¡°Oh, would you look at that Sergei. I suppose we know this chap.¡± Despite Jack recognizing Zhukov, another shot was still fired. The bullet scraped past Zhukov¡¯s cheek, sending a small amount of blood spraying out of the new wound. ¡°Oh, sorry boss.¡± Sergei lowered his rifle after seeing how pissed off his commander was. Zhukov sighed and turned back to the ruins. Grundolf had said there would be valuables, but all he could see were corpses. After a investigating a bit further, he found a staircase leading down, hidden in a corner.. Curious, Zhukov peered down the staircase, only to find a familiar horror. Luckily, this one appeared to be dead. Bullet wounds were spread all over its corpse. ¡°The Svalski¡­¡± Grundolf was behind Zhukov, his eyes his eyes wide in surprise. Chapter 9: Labyrinth ¡°The Svalski, the denizens of the dark.¡± ¡°You know of these¡­things?¡± ¡°Unfortunately so, though I thought they were just a legend. When I was just a lad back at the Hub, the Svalski were bedtime stories. You know, scary stories tah keep them kiddies in check.¡± Zhukov peered back down the stairs, into the darkness. ¡°You know what, I didn¡¯t really want to go to the Hub anyways.¡± ¡°Oh, ye backing out like a bloody pansy now eh?¡± ¡°These things took out a whole damn village!¡± ¡°Oh shit, you don¡¯t mean?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± ¡°Goddammit, but we still have to go down.¡± ¡°Riches last forever, a life does not.¡± ¡°It¡¯s more than that you daft fool. Whether you are with me or not, I¡¯m going down.¡± Grundolf descended down the stairs. ¡°Skreebit bring smarts for treasures!¡± ¡°Wait, on second thought I want to keep my life!¡± Some sort of horrendous rat thing in armor sprinted down after Grundolf, dragging an unwilling gremlin along. Zhukov stared in bewilderment. Behind him Jack and Sergei were arguing about the rifles they found. ¡°Look! It¡¯s bloody magic!¡± Jack put a fresh clip into his rifle and began ejecting the shells from it one by one. Before the sixth shell could be ejected, the clip fell out of the bottom of the rifle. Jack raised the rifle high into the air looked to Sergei, expecting praise. But Sergei merely smacked his head. ¡°It¡¯s a Carcano you dumbass!¡± ¡°A car canoe? Are you drunk again Sergei?¡± ¡°Carcano! It¡¯s the standard issue rifle for the Italian army. It¡¯s loaded by an en-bloc clip and holds six rounds.¡± ¡°The Italians were wielding magic rifles then! Maybe those damn gremlins were helping them out!¡± ¡°No dumbass, your magic trick is just how the rifle functions. When the last round is chambered, the en-bloc clip drops out of the magazine box.¡± ¡°But what if you don¡¯t have an en-bloc clip?¡± ¡°Then you¡¯re shit out of luck. The en-bloc clip is an essential part of the rifle. Which means if you don¡¯t have it, then all you¡¯ve got is a single shot rifle.¡± Jack was intrigued. After putting a single bullet into the chamber, he pushed the bolt forward, then back again. The bullet ejected, landing with a clang on the floor of the ruins. ¡°Magic!¡± Sergei smacked his face again. ¡°You can do that with any rifle!¡± Zhukov stared at the two, dumbstruck. When he came back to his senses he had a sudden revelation. He looked at the dense forest woods that surrounded them. ¡°Oh shit, I don¡¯t know the way back!¡± Zhukov grabbed a rifle and an ammo pouch from one of the corpses and ran down after the dwarf. The others looked around in confusion, but soon they too grabbed supplies and descended. Yakov and Vasily had grabbed the remaining rifles. ¡°Was zis one forgotten?¡± Hans looked over the bodies and found no weapons for himself. ¡°Oh vell, I always have zese guns!¡± Hans started to shadow box while he was alone. In the middle of his session he heard growling coming from the forest. Hans stopped and stared at his fists, then at the woods, then at the corpses. ¡°Eh, I don¡¯t want end up like zese Frenchmen.¡± Hans chased down after the others. ¡­.. When the group reached the bottom of the staircase they were greeted by a long, seemingly endless, tunnel. Torches shone light upon the brick walls, revealing more tunnels that branched off of the main one. The main tunnel wasn¡¯t very wide, allowing only three men to stand side by side. Gunshots, screams, and screeches echoed throughout the halls. It appeared the Italians above ground had been separated from their comrades below. Zhukov took point with Sergei and Jack, while Vasily and Yakov took up the role of the rearguards. The group advanced through the halls, following after the sounds of combat. For all they knew Grundolf had gotten caught up in the heat of battle. They went down one of the branching paths, thinking it lead to the origin of the conflict. But, much to their surprise, it was a dead end. They turned back and tried another one, this time leading them in an endless loop. Another attempt sent them to another seemingly endless tunnel, much like the first. The place was like a maze. After a lot of trial and error, the group grew closer to the source of all the commotion. The sounds grew louder. Bloodstains appeared, splattered on the walls and smeared on the floor. Then they started finding corpses, nearly all of them man. The human corpses were in a horrific state with gaping slashes and missing limbs. Their bodies were as broken as they rifles they lied next to. Two corpses in particular had their interest. The only Svalski corpse in the hall appeared to have tackled a man to the ground, only to have been speared by his bayonet. The soldier had died too, but his valiance had probably saved many of the lives of his comrades, as the trail of corpses ended with his. At the end of the hall they found a large open room with no other paths connected to it. At the end of the room were numerous men, their faces weary. They held rifles with shaky hands, pointed to a single man who stood at the center of the room. Their target, Grundolf. The body of Joxil, the gremlin, lied nearby. A single bloody hole decorated his head. Grundolf stared at his corpse, seemingly in a daze. Skreebit was nowhere in sight. Zhukov acted quickly, ordering his group to stand down as he advanced, alone. He left his rifle with Hans and walked to the center of the room, arms raised to show that he wasn¡¯t armed. The Italian soldiers didn¡¯t lower their rifles, instead moving them from Grundolf to Zhukov and back. It reminded Zhukov of Stalingrad. His unit was part of an offensive to reclaim a section of the city. Their actions ended up relieving a garrison of Russian soldiers, who had been separated from the main force. The look on their faces was similar. It was the look of fear. The fear of death. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we are here to relieve you.¡± He told them the same words he¡¯d said to the scared soldiers in Stalingrad. One of the soldiers nearly broke down after hearing those words. Tears streamed down his face. He looked young, even for a green soldier. ¡°We¡­we¡­we can go home then? Away¡­away from this nightmare?¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Zhukov smiled, bringing tears even to the faces of those who were still wary. They broke out into a cheer, hugging each other. Perhaps it was the darkness, or maybe their fear had dulled their senses. Regardless, they didn¡¯t seem to care that their savior was from a different nation. Nor did they ask about their missing comrades, perhaps having already assume the worst. Zhukov planned to have the others bury the corpses outside before they returned back to the world above. He couldn¡¯t bring back the dead, but he could save the living. Though it seemed they wouldn¡¯t have a chance. Tremors reverberated through the floors. The wall behind the Italian soldiers began to shake. ¡°Get back!¡± Zhukov shouted out for them to run, but was in vain. The wall collapsed and a monstrosity emerged. It was eerily similar to a human, but the differences were easily seen. It was gigantic, its biceps alone were bigger than a man. It had no head. With a chest that was wide open, ribs expanding and contracting, looking almost like a mouth. It¡¯s skin color looked like raw bloody flesh. With a single sweep of its arm, multiple Italian soldiers were sent flying. They crashed into the walls, blood spraying out of their mouths as they fell to the floor. They didn¡¯t get back up. One of the luckier ones landed into Zhukov, he sustained only a broken arm. Some of the soldiers managed to regain their bearings, beginning to fire on the monstrosity. Their shots seemed to do nothing more than anger it. ¡°The chest! Aim for the vitals!¡± Zhukov¡¯s companions joined in on the fight. They unleashed a barrage of bullets into the chest, ripping the flesh straight from the monstrosity. But it was as if the creature didn¡¯t have any organs at all, their shots seeming to do little more that annoy the monstrosity. The Italians were putting up a good fight, but it all seemed to be in vain. One by one they were killed. Those who weren¡¯t thrown like rag dolls, were crushed under its feet. The unlucky ones were ripped in half by the mouth on its chest. The soldier in Zhukov¡¯s arms couldn¡¯t just lie there as his friends died. He brought his broken body back up, out of Zhukov¡¯s arms, and charged back into the fray. He stopped at the body of one of his fallen comrades. He took a satchel from the corpse and tore it open with his only good arm, pulling out a red canister from inside. After pulling a pin out of the canister and ripping off a lever on its side, the soldier ran straight for the monstrosity. The creature saw the approaching soldier and stomped on him. An explosion of metal and hot lead was sent straight into the creature¡¯s leg. It fell over, its leg ruined. But it was still alive and crawling. In the middle of all the madness Grundolf was still sitting in the middle of the room, apparently unaware of all of the chaos going on around him. His eyes were still fixated on the corpse of his old friend. Next to him, the grenade satchel was still laying. ¡°Grundolf, grab that canister!¡± Grundolf continued to stare into the abyss, unaware of Zhukov¡¯s voice. ¡°Dammit!¡± Vasily threw his rifle to the ground and strode forward, toward the monstrosity. He rustled around his uniform and retrieved a bottle from one of the inner pockets. He uncorked it and shoved a piece of cloth inside. After the alcohol had soaked up to the top of of the cloth, he lit the molotov with a match. Then he threw it, straight into the mouth of the monstrosity. The creature burst into flames. It screeched as it attempted to put out the fire by bashing its body into the walls and floor, but it was futile. The fire continued to burn strong, sending a black smoke rising up to cover the ceiling. It crawled back into the hole from which it came, still on fire. Vasily went after it with the rifle he¡¯d retrieved. Firing as fast as he could from the hip until the clip fell from the magazine box. But the creature was gone, leaving only corpses and a solemn silence. Vasily cursed as Zhukov¡¯s shoulders slumped. Not a single Italian had survived the carnage. But they were quickly proven wrong, as a weak voice was still crying out. ¡°Ho..home¡­gotta¡­gotta go¡­home. I¡­can¡¯t¡­I¡­I¡­I don¡¯t want to die¡­not here.¡± Vasily was the first to find the owner of the voice. It was the young soldier from earlier, slumped up against a wall. His leg had been torn off and he was lying in a pool of his own blood. With hazy eyes he stared into the abyss. It was a miracle he was still alive. But there wasn¡¯t much they could do for him, other than ease his suffering. ¡°Mot¡­mother¡­I¡­I¡¯m sorry. I¡­I don¡¯t think¡­¡± Vasily put a single bullet into the chamber of his rifle. ¡°Don¡¯t worry child, soon¡­you will see her soon.¡± He raised the rifle, the barrel pointed at the soldier¡¯s head. The soldier¡¯s eyes seemed have glazed over. Was it a hint of acceptance, or the dullness of pain? Regardless, it was too late to stop now. Vasily moved his finger into the trigger guard. He hesitated for a second, and a second was all it took. Zhukov put his hand on Vasily¡¯s shoulder, pulling him back, away from the young man. ¡°We have killed many men Vasily, but your hands will not be stained with the blood of this one. Let the ones with the bloodiest hands do the bloodiest work.¡± Vasily struggled inside. If his eldest daughter had still been alive, wouldn¡¯t she have been of the same age? He gripped the pendant around his neck, turning his back to Zhukov and the soldier. He squeezed his hands in anger. Anger at his own weakness. Zhukov took the knife from his waist and held it up. ¡°May you find peace, at the end of all the suffering.¡± Zhukov covered the young man¡¯s mouth with his hand and plunged the knife into his chest. The young man whimpered, eyes open in shock. From his eyes, fell a single tear, which dripped down onto Zhukov¡¯s hand. ¡°Don¡¯t fight, go gently into the night.¡± Zhukov twisted the blade, sending more blood seeping out of the wound. The young man¡¯s eyes began to droop. Then they closed for the last time, never to open again. Zhukov pulled the knife out and stared at his bloody hands. Once again, he had snuffed out a life before it began. ¡°One day I will weep for you. Until then you must wait with the hundreds that have come before, and the hundreds that have yet to come.¡± Zhukov sheathed his knife and rose up. Before turning back he mumbled to himself. ¡°More and more I find myself wondering. If war is hell, then are we the damned, or the demons?¡± For himself, he already knew the answer. Chapter 10: Into the Darkness The Russians, along with Jack and Hans, were scavenging for supplies amidst the corpses. They had decided that after gathering supplies they would depart the ruins, leaving the hellhole behind. Sergei wandering over to Zhukov and spoke to him in a hushed voice. ¡°The hell were you thinking, Zhukov! They could¡¯ve shot you.¡± ¡°What was I thinking? Pasta of course!¡± ¡°Pasta?¡± ¡°Pasta!¡± Sergei smacked his head. ¡°You risked your life for pasta?¡± ¡°Of course! I heard the Italians carry pasta as a part of their rations, a delicacy I haven¡¯t been able to eat since the war started.¡± ¡°You could¡¯ve taken the pasta of their corpses too..¡± Zhukov started to stroke his beard, thinking out his response. ¡°But that would soil the flavor!¡± ¡°We¡¯ve eaten rations off the dead before.¡± ¡°But this is pasta!¡± Sergei scratched his head and looked over to Yakov, who was shuffling the the pockets of a corpse. ¡°Hey Yakov, did you find any pasta on those corpses?¡± ¡°Nope. Lot¡¯s of tuna though. Oh, and bread, lots of bread.¡± Sergei turned his attention back towards Zhukov, he sighed after seeing his commander whistling nonchalantly. ¡°You sympathize with our enemies too much.¡± ¡°And you seem to be perfectly fine with Hans.¡± ¡°Just look at that dopey brute. He belongs in a field of flowers, not a war...¡± Zhukov and Sergei looked over to Hans, who was humming a tune as he robbed the dead. ¡°Zis is for Hans. Zis is also for Hans. Ooh, and zis rifle, zis rifle is definitely for Hans! I must thank you Frenchman, you have just made zis one twice as dangerous!¡± Sergei shook his head and mumbled to himself. ¡°...twice as dangerous to himself.¡± ¡°And the others don¡¯t?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Nevermind¡­¡± Sergei simply shook his head with disappointment before heading back to scavenge with the others. Meanwhile, Yakov had moved over to Grundolf, trying to cheer the dwarf up. He picked Grundolf up, putting him back on to his feet. ¡°Everything¡¯ll be alright, cause we¡¯re still alive at least.¡± Yakov slapped Grundolf on the back, attempting to give him some motivation. Though to his surprise, the dwarf fell back to the ground. He began driving his fist into the floor, over and over again. Yakov tried to stop him, but the dwarf shoved him back. ¡°No...¡± Grundolf picked up his halberd and ran into the opening in the wall, from whence the monstrosity came. ¡°Can¡¯t let him die in vain¡­ ¡± ¡°Shit, after that damn dwarf!¡± Zhukov wasn¡¯t going to let the dwarf run off without them again. They chased after, but were stopped by the wall of pure darkness that greeted them. ¡°Torches...grab the torches!¡± Everyone ran back and began prying the torches from the walls. They found that they were much like the ones from the village, putting off a bright light, but producing no heat. They didn¡¯t think too deeply about it as they dove into the darkness, chasing after the dwarf. Only Yakov and Hans carried the torches, as holding a torch would prevent them from using their rifles. Zhukov, Sergei, Yakov, and Vasily were in front. Behind them, Jack and Hans were watching the rear. The deeper into the darkness they went, the more worried they grew. Though the path was linear, it was also much more expansive than the tunnels they were in moments prior. They had to watch the darkness closely for any movements, lest they end up walking straight into an ambush. Though everyone at the front seemed to be on edge, Jack and Hans were rather relaxed in the back. ¡°I could use a bottle of Schnaps right now.¡± ¡°Schnaps?¡± ¡°You have never had ze Schnaps?¡± ¡°No, can¡¯t say I have.¡± ¡°Oh, you are missing out! It is simply ze best booze in ze Vaterland! Much better than ze potato piss zese Russians call vodka. Maybe we we¡¯ll be able to scoru-¡± Hans was too busy talking to Jack to notice that the Russian in front of him had stopped moving. He crashed into Vasily¡¯s back, the latter turned to to look at him with a face so horrifying it sent shivers down his spine. It was as though he¡¯d asked for a glass of water, and received a glass of piss. ¡°I recommend you watch your words, cabbage. Unless you want your grave to read strangled with potato.¡± ¡°Vhat? Ze Russian cannot take ze joke? Vhy don¡¯t you go tell your mother zat ze vater vears the pants in zis relationship.¡± Vasily smiled maliciously as he brought his rifle up above his head. ¡°Oh schei?e¡­¡± Hans managed to jump out of the way of the blow, watching as the rifle¡¯s stock exploded into fragments . He could only stare in horror. ¡°Vere you trying to kill Hans!?¡± Vasily looked down at the rifle in his hands. The stock had broken off just behind the trigger guard. The rifle could still be used, but it would be harder to both aim and manage the recoil. He simply shrugged, the rifle still had a bayonet, which meant it could always function as a short spear. ¡°Look what you¡¯ve done Hans, this poor poor rifle...¡± ¡°Vhat! Zis is not my fault, zat vas your own doing!¡± Jack stood on the side, shaking his head while sighing. ¡°I haven¡¯t had any tea in two bloody days¡­Wait a moment, where did those other blokes disappear to?¡± Hans and Vasily stopped their arguing and looked around. Jack was right, the others had disappeared. ¡°Well...shit.¡± The three gave chase after their missing comrades, but they soon came upon a diverging path. Off to their side was a door that had been left ajar, while the cave extended onwards to their front.. ¡°Could zey have gone through zis door?¡± Hans nonchalantly walked through the door. Jack and Vasily were reluctant to follow, but the German had the only torch. It was a smaller tunnel, about the same size as the ones in the labyrinth. Unlike the labyrinth however, it seemed to have been a part of a mine. A variety of digging equipment such as pickaxes and shovels were laying alongside their long deceased owners, who were little more than bones now. Strangely, not a single skeleton looked familiar to anyone in the group. Some were shorter than even Grundolf, while others would¡¯ve reached up to the ceiling had they been upright. At the end of the tunnel was another door, this one much more extravagant that the last. A bulky metal door, engraved with strange symbols. Like the last door this one was also open, though only a crack. Hans looked down and found the reason why, a single bone had been wedged between the door and the wall. The group slipped through the gap and found a sight that would¡¯ve never been found in their own world. A town, underground. Vasily noted that it much smaller than the first town they had visited, but for its size it was still quite a feat. A pure white orb hung from the ceiling at the center of the town, engulfing everything below in a soothing light. It was as if the town had its very own sun, though this one would never set. Beneath the light, a tree was growing, apparently unhindered by its strange environment. Around the tree was a vast field, where unkempt greenery thrived. On the outskirts of the field were stone houses, they seemed to have been carved straight from the rocky walls. ¡°Zis...is amazing¡­¡± ¡°I think this might be the first time I¡¯ve gotten drunk without drinking¡­¡± ¡°Could it be? Are those...nettle plants!?¡± Jack was the first one to enter the town, heading straight for the field at its center. Hans and Vasily watched as the Briton began ripping the leaves off of one of the plants. They started laughing as he let loose a string of curses after apparently injuring himself. Jack was unfazed though, he took out a pair of gloves and went back to work, shoving his bounty into his rucksack. Hans and Vasily stopped laughing though after hearing an unsettling clacking noise. They looked around, but were unable to find the source. Hans put his torch on the ground and unslung his rifle. He and Vasily were making their way over to Jack when they found the source of the noises, a moving skeleton. It appeared from behind the tree, not too far away from where Jack was. ¡°Vatch out Jack!¡± Jack looked around in confusion, apparently unaware of the danger he was in. ¡°The hell you wankers want?¡± ¡°Do you not see ze skelton behind you!?¡± Jack looked over his shoulder and finally understood. The skeleton was standing right next to him, a shovel raised above his head. Jack jumped up and managed to backstep, avoiding the blow. Though the shovel still managed to connect with his bag, tearing it from his hands and sending it flying. ¡°My nettles!?¡± Jack delivered a powerful kick to the skeleton as it was recovering from its attack. The skeleton toppled over, landing onto its back. Much to Jack¡¯s surprise, the skeleton shattered when it hit the ground. Jack looked over the pile of while scratching his head. ¡°Vow, remind me never to insult ze Queen vhen I am near zis tommy.¡± ¡°Better not insult his tea either.¡± Jack was about to go and collect his bag of nettles when he heard a familiar clanking noise coming from the bones. The bones seemed to be all be gathering up, they were like pieces of iron attracted to a strong magnet. The skeleton was reassembling itself. ¡°Aw, bloody hell.¡± Jack unslung his rifle and looked over the pile of bones that were reassembling. He aimed his rifle at the skeletons skull and fired. The skull shattered into fragments. Though to his dismay, the skull fragments too began coming back together. When the skeleton was back into one piece it looked virtually unharmed, though the firearm did have some effect. A few fragments didn¡¯t join back up with the skull, leaving holes. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Jack kicked the skeleton back over again, watching as it shattered again upon hitting the ground. This time he took up the shovel the skeleton had been wielding, using it to smash the skeleton¡¯s bones. ¡°You fellows just gonna watch, or are you gonna lend me a hand?¡± Hans and Vasily scurried their way over to Jack. They didn¡¯t have anything as useful as the shovel, so the two had to improvise. Hans used the butt of his rifle, while Vasily had to resort to stomping. The skeleton was unable to reanimate as its bones were constantly being shattered. After enough damage had been done it stopped trying to reassemble. They continued to bash the remains though, just to make sure. ¡°Well, I¡¯d say we worked up quite the sweat. Would only be fair if we took a moment and brewed some tea to rejuvenate our tired bodies, eh?¡± Hans and Vasily laughed, though their short moment of peace didn¡¯t last long. They heard more clacking noises coming from behind and turned around, only to see the door they entered through open wide. The skeletons they had seen in the tunnel were now moving. The three immediately started firing into the crowd of undead that was assembling at the entrance. The first shot managed to hit one of the skeleton right in the head, sending its skull crashing into the gathering crowd behind. A few skeletons fell apart, yet the headless one continued on. Vasily attempted to aim down his broken rifle, but the recoil was simply to difficult to control without the stock. The recoil from the his first shot ended up bashing him in the face. He just started to fire from the hip after that. The skeletons were slow and cumbersome, allowing the group to take their time retreating. They fired while moving backwards, reloading whenever needed. ¡°Well, zis isn¡¯t vorking¡­¡± Despite their attempts to thin the horde, the skeletons always seemed to always rise back up. ¡°They don¡¯t seem to be too difficult to take on alone. Let¡¯s get out of the open first though, before they surround us.¡± Everyone started to look around for a more defendable position. Most of the houses had crude wooden doors, they looked as if they could barely withstand a slight breeze, much less a horde of undead. However there was one building that suited their needs. It was more refined than the other buildings, not to mention it had a metallic door. It also looked as if the roof could be accessed from inside. The building perfectly suited their needs. If the front door was broken they could always escape through the roof. The group quickly made their way over, as the skeletons continued to advance. The entrance to the building was a door with ornate markings that seemed to be glowing blue. Jack started to kick the building in anger after seeing no way of opening it. ¡°What sort of sick demented bastard makes a door with no way to open it!¡± ¡°Probably the Germans¡­¡± ¡°Vhat!? It must of been ze Russians, clearly a product of your drunk engineering!¡± ¡°Ha, at least our drunk engineering works!¡± ¡°Nein, vhen your vehicles break down you just go and get another. Zey are as disposable as your infantrymen.¡± ¡°Yer damn lucky that Sergei isn¡¯t here, cabbage. I¡¯d like tah see ya tell him straight to the face that Alyona is disposable.¡± ¡°Alyona, who is zat?¡± ¡°Dammit la-¡± Jack¡¯s attempts to intervene in the argument was cut short, after he was hit in the head by a flying pickaxe. Hans and Vasily turned back to see that skeletons were almost upon them. ¡°Shit, grab him. We¡¯ll jump from roof to roof!¡± Hans threw the unconscious Briton over his shoulder and followed Vasily into a nearby building. They ascended to the roof and looked over to the more defensible building, which was lower to the ground. Hans threw Jack over first, then jumped down himself. Vasily followed shortly after. After arriving safely on the roof, Hans and Vasily looked back to the building they had just jumped from. On the roof skeletons were walking towards them, only to fall to the ground. They peered over the roof and watched as the skeletons reanimated and went right back to the roof, only to fall again. ¡°They are aren¡¯t very smart¡­¡± ¡°Zat is probably why zey are dead.¡± Vasily shrugged and went to go investigate the building, Hans followed behind with Jack in tow. The building contained only one room at the bottom, void of all light except for greenish-yellow crystal. It appeared to be floating on a pedestal of sorts. ¡°Oooh! Vhat is zat?¡± Hans let his curiosity get the better of him. He dropped Jack and went over to poke the crystal. It hummed and shook after being touched, but remained floating. ¡°Look here Vasily, isn¡¯t zis simply amazing!¡± Vasily would have joined the German, if he wasn¡¯t intrigued by the two orbs of light that seemed to be approaching Hans. They glowed with the same color as the crystal. Eventually the orbs approached the light of the crystal, and their owner was revealed. ¡°Oh schei?e!¡± Hans swung his fist out in surprise when the skeleton with glowing eyes appeared. His fist connected with the crystal, driving it into the skeleton¡¯s skull. Both the skull and the crystal landed over in the corner of the room. Hans and Vasily were basked in darkness without its light. ¡°Fuck you skeleton!¡± Hans started to wrestle with the bones in the darkness. He was surprised to find that the skeleton wasn¡¯t fighting back. ¡°Is zis a friendly skeleton? I must apologize for my transgressions, friend.¡± ¡°Hey dumbass, stop talking and listen!¡± Hans did as Vasily said and found that the noises outside had stopped. It was an eerie silence, the clacking of bones had stopped outside. ¡°Vhat ze hell?¡± Hans felt his way through the darkness, over to where the front door should have been. He put his ear up to the door, hearing nothing but silence on the other side. ¡°I don¡¯t like zis.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s check out the roof, we might be able to see what¡¯s going on outside.¡± Vasily picked up the crystal to use as a light source and went back up to the roof, with Hans following behind. The two were surprised by the sudden change outside. The town had been enveloped in darkness. ¡°Zis...is bad...¡± ¡°Yeah, can¡¯t see a damn thing.¡± ¡°Vell...vhat now?¡± ¡°Hell if I know. Let¡¯s just grab Jack and get the hell out.¡± The two went back down to grab Jack. Though to their surprise, the Briton was already back on his feet. He was standing near the now open door, shaking his head. ¡°We¡¯ve been bamboozled!¡± ¡°The hell¡¯s wrong with you Jack?¡± ¡°The door! It was a sliding door all along! ¡°You are damn lucky those bones outside stopped moving.¡± ¡°Lucky? Nonsense, I¡¯m simply mad. What sort of a sick bastard would do such a thing.¡± Hans leaned over and whispered into Vasily¡¯s ear. ¡°I think zat blow to ze head left him vith brain damage¡­¡± An ugly grin crept across Vasily¡¯s face. ¡°What was that Hans? You said the British queen sympathizes with the fascist ideology?¡± ¡°Vait, vhat? ¡°He said what!? Why, I never!¡± Jack started swinging aimlessly in the darkness. While Hans was busy avoiding the blows, Vasily was chuckling as he leaned on the pedestal. He placed the crystal back on the pedestal, so he wouldn¡¯t have to hold it as he watched the brawl. The crystal rose up and began floating again, humming with a soft tune. A flash of light came from outside, temporarily blinding everyone in the room. When they returned to their senses they heard a familiar noise. The bones outside were beginning to reanimate again. Vasily looked over to the where the bright eyed skeleton remains used to be, only to find that it had already reanimated. Though it was quickly smashed to pieces by Jack, who seemed to have only been further enraged by the sudden light. Vasily looked at the floating crystal with a sudden realization. He snatched it from the pedestal and watched as darkness surrounded them again. ¡°On second thought, let¡¯s just leave¡­¡± ¡°Oh you¡¯ll be leaving alright. Leaving through the gates o¡¯ hell for insulting Queen Elizabeth, that is!¡± ¡°Jack, don¡¯t you have tea waiting for your outside?¡± ¡°Oh hell, my nettles!¡± Jack ran outside but, after realized he couldn¡¯t see anything, returned to snatch the glowing crystal from Vasily. ¡°Hey!¡± Jack ignored Vasily and ran back out in search of his rucksack. Vasily scratched his head and followed after the bobbing light in the darkness, with Hans close behind. After Jack found the bag, the group left the underground town. Hans had attempted to grab his discarded torch, but its light had gone out, making it useless. The group eventually ended back up in the main tunnel, from there they could only go onwards. ¡°Vell? Vasn¡¯t zat fun.¡± ¡°Fuck you!¡± Jack and Vasily shouted in unison. The group continued on, eventually coming to a large opening in the cave. Light shone down from cracks in the ceiling, basking everything in the rich light of the outside world. At the center of of the opening, were their missing comrades, along with a massive pile of ash. Zhukov ended his conversation with a strangely happy dwarf, turning his attention to the newcomers and waving. ¡°Oh, would you look at that. I guess you bastards are still alive after all!¡± ¡°Yup, guess hell didn¡¯t want us after all.¡± Side Story: Ratman 1 ¡°Appearances are often deceiving.¡± -Aesop ¡­.. A small furred creature was walking down a dark hallway. He was limping, using the wall as a support. In one of his hands was a broken sword. What used to be a bastard sword, was now little more than a hilt. He stopped for a moment, to pat the blood matted fur on the top of his head. {Damn, this hurts.} He grimaced and shook his head, before continuing deeper down the dark halls. Like many of the races in his world, he had fantastic night vision. They were forced underground by the many dangers that lurked above ground. Only recently had they begun to reclaim the land their ancestors had lost. {I should quickly return to the others. Don¡¯t want to end up wandering into another one of those... things...} Behind the ratman, a corpse was lying in a pool of its own blood. Lodged in one of its eye sockets, was the blade of his broken sword. He remembered that they were one of the creatures that his companion called the Svalski. Just remembering his companion brought new energy into the ratman¡¯s battered body. The energy of anger. {Grundolf, that bastard. Dragging me along on another one of his adventures. If I didn¡¯t own him my damn life, I¡¯d of told him to fuck off.} The ratman soon came across an intersection in the tunnels. He started to sniff the air, attempting to get a whiff of him comrades. But the only scent of found was that of charred meat {Strange, did they set up a camp down here?} He decided to follow after the scent. Which soon brought him to a collapsed tunnel. The ratman sniffed the air again, the smell of cooked meat was growing stronger. In addition there was another scent, one he knew all too well. {That damn dwarf is nearby.} The ratman started to dig through the rubble of the collapsed tunnel. The scent of meat and dwarf grew even stronger as he cleared the debris. Soon he was even able to hear the sounds of a conflict. Eventually he made a hole small enough to squeeze through. On the other side of the tunnel, a massive cavern was revealed. Unlike the tunnels he had just come from, the open cavern was well lit. Rays of light from the outside world peeked in through cracks at the cavern¡¯s ceiling. At its center, was a sight for sore eyes and something less so. Grundolf and some sort of blackened monstrosity were engaged in combat. The monstrosity was crawling along the ground, chasing after the dwarf. Grundolf turned back and charged straight for the monstrosity, halberd in hand. {The hell is that crazy bastard doing?} The monstrosity swept its hand along the ground, as if swatting away a fly. The dwarf pressed on, straight into the attack, unfazed. He gripped his halberd tightly, awaiting the blow. When it came he was prepared, the monstrosity¡¯s hand was impaled upon the tip of his halberd. Though he had succeeded in his counterattack, the dwarf was still unable to take the weighty blow. Grundolf was sent flying, weaponless. His halberd remained impaled in the hand of the monstrosity. It stared at the hand which still had the halberd lodged into it, before screeching in anger. It pried the halberd from its hand, watching as the weapon fell to the ground. The monstrosity turned and stared at Grundolf in anger. If the ratman was to act, now would be his chance. {Shit, why does trouble always seem to follow this damn dwarf?} The ratman moved quickly, heading first for the abandoned halberd. The monstrosity had tossed it aside as if were nothing more than a painful splinter, a decision it would soon regret. After retrieving the halberd he went straight for the monstrosity, who hadn¡¯t noticed that yet another pesky fly had arrived. The ratman used his broken sword to scale the monstrosity, as if he were climbing a wall. It screamed in anger at the pain and attempted to shake him off, but he held on tight. After reaching the top of the creature, the ratman brandished the halberd. Though he didn¡¯t actually think he¡¯d make it this far. The ratman looked down upon the headless body and questioned his own actions. Meanwhile Grundolf was staring in pure amazement at the ratman. He didn¡¯t think that his old friend Skreebit had survived their earlier encounter with the Svalski. After all, the ratman disappeared into the darkness after being grabbed by one of the Svalski. They tried to give chase, but the labyrinth was nigh impossible to navigate. Skreebit smiled after seeing the shock on Grundolf¡¯s face. {Haha, look who¡¯s saving who now!} ¡°Skreebit here to save fleshy monster!¡± {Wait, that¡¯s not what I meant!} ¡°Skreebit will fuck your mother!¡± {Shit, I hate this damn voice} ¡°Then Skreebit shit on your corpse!¡± {I give up.} The dwarf wasn¡¯t sure whether he should laugh or cry. Skreebit grumbled to himself as he began hacking away at the monstrosity, sending chunks of charred flesh flying off. His target roared in anger and started attacking its own body, in an attempt to rid itself of the nuisance. The ratman looked up from his task to find a fist heading straight towards him. He stabbed the halberd into the body of the monstrosity and leapt from its back, just as its fist connected with its own body. The halberd was splintered at the shaft, but the head was driven deeper in. Using the momentum from the jump, Skreebit attached himself to its arm. He futility slashed at the arm with his sword hilt, until he was thrown off. The ratman crashed to the ground, fresh blood spurted from his wounds. The gash on top of his head had been reopened, sending blood spilling into his eyes. He did the best he could to wipe his eyes clear, but the blood just kept flowing. Grundolf made his way over to the ratman, while the monstrosity was still trying to pull the broken halberd from its head. He tore cloth from his clothing and used it to bandage Skreebit¡¯s head wound. After his vision cleared, the ratman turned to face the dwarf. A familiar glimmer caught his attention. {He got the crystals!} On Grundolf¡¯s waist was a partly opened satchel. Inside Skreebit could see the greenish-yellow gleam of crystals, magic crystals. The whole reason they had descended despite the danger was for those crystals. Skreebit¡¯s body shivered with excitement. He hadn¡¯t seen so many crystals in the same place since his kind was banished from the Hub. {Bwhaha, good dwarf! Now hand one of those here!} ¡°Dwarf has big stones!¡± ¡°Haha, my stones can¡¯t be much bigger than yours. I¡¯m not the bastard crazy enough to scale a beast like that after all.¡± {Damn straight! All this trouble just to find a damn dwarf.} ¡°Skreebit look for dwarf!¡± A tear was beginning to form in the corner of one of Grundolf¡¯s eyes. But he wiped it away. ¡°Aye lad, you¡¯ve found ¡®im. But what happened to you, I¡¯d been fearin fer the worst. (Oh, the usual. Y¡¯know...trying not to die. Now that I think about it where¡¯d that damn gremlin, Joxil, go?} This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.¡°Where stupid gremlin! He owes Skreebit many shiny!¡± Grundolf zoned out, his eyes downcast. ¡°He...he...didn¡¯t¡­¡± {Shit¡­} The ratman put his hand onto the dwarf¡¯s shoulder. His blood red eyes revealed no emotions, but the dwarf understood his intentions. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. He didn¡¯t die in vain.¡± The dwarf opened a pouch attached to his waist. Inside were many greenish-yellow crystals. {It¡¯s a damn shame he didn¡¯t make it, but you needed those.} A ferocious roar resounded throughout the cavern, reminding the two that they weren¡¯t out of danger yet. The monstrosity had given up on digging out the halberd, directing its rage instead towards the origin. Skreebit needed to hasten his plans. {Well, it¡¯s now or never} Skreebit snactched one of the crystals from the satchel, leaving Grundolf puzzeled. ¡°The hell are you doin? We gotta move!¡± {Calm down, I¡¯ve dabbled in magic.} ¡°Skreebit is a motherfucking sorcerer!¡± The dwarf watched helplessly as the deranged ratman swallowed the crystal whole. {All right, let¡¯s see here.} Skreebit closed his eyes and began to concentrate. It had been a long time since the disaster, but his skills hadn¡¯t faded. It was almost funny. The same spell that caused his damnation, was his only salvation. {Hehe, the damn fools thought damming the river could stop the flow.} Skreebit¡¯s body shook with excitement, a sinister smile crept across his face. {I just needed more water, that¡¯s all} Grundolf stared at the ratman in shock. Bluish bolts of lightning seemed to be jumping out of Skreebit¡¯s body. {Mwahaha, Skreebit¡¯s back motherfuckers!} ¡°Mwahaha, Skreebit¡¯s back motherfuckers!¡± The ratman burst into flames. His mocking laughter terrified the dwarf, even the monstrosity seemed to reel in terror. Though Skreebit was on fire he didn¡¯t seem to be fazed by the flames. Even more shocking, was that he seemed to be perfectly unharmed as he was enveloped. Neither his armor nor any of his belongings showed any sign that the fire was real, yet Grundolf could feel the searing heat. Skreebit drew his broken sword, the fire too enveloping it. He charged towards the monstrosity, screaming with glee. It tried to back away, but the ratman was too fast. He still had both his legs after all. The monstrosity launched a weighty fist towards Skreebit, but the ratman managed to twist his body, slipping past the fist. The monstrosity screeched as smoke rose up from where the ratman had passed. It brought its hand out of the rocky floor, fragments of rock dropped as it opened its palm. It tried to sweep its arm, in an attempt to swat the nuisance away. But the ratman had already seen this move before. Instead of bracing for the impact as the dwarf had, Skreebit dodged by leaping and twisting his body into a forward roll as he was about to hit the ground. A blast of air brushing against his back notified him that his daring move was successful. He was practically standing underneath its mouth now. The monstrosity resorted to its last defense, spreading its mouth open wide. It slammed its torso down, much to the surprise of the ratman. He wouldn¡¯t be able to avoid this one, but he didn¡¯t need to. The monstrosity reeled in pain, attempting to spit the ratman back out. But it was unable to, it couldn¡¯t even feel its mouth anymore. The burns were so severe that it felt as if the fire was actually burning cold. Skreebit slashed at the back of its mouth, his sword cutting through the flesh as if it were butter. After cutting a sizeable hole through the flesh and bone, he came out of the monstrosity¡¯s back. It continued to thrash around, as fire once again enveloped its body. {Damn thing is still alive, even after all that?} But he wasn¡¯t worried, it wouldn¡¯t be able to move after it was turned to ash. He went back to work, and soon it was nothing more than ash. Skreebit admired his work, and turned his eyes to scan the cavern. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a piece of unburned flesh, apparently trying to squirm away from the carnage. He calmly walked over to it and poked it with his broken sword. The piece of flesh disintegrated into ash, leaving a behind a slab of metal. The slab caught Skreebit¡¯s curiosity, it appeared to be silver at first glance. Yet as he brought it up to his eyes, the metal slab started to glow with a soft blue light. {The source of that monstrosity perhaps? Regardless, it¡¯s of no use to me} He tossed it over to Grundolf, who was still staring in amazement. {I¡¯d say we are even now.} ¡°I¡¯d say we are even now.¡± Skreebit smiled as he remembered how the dwarf saved his life years ago. ¡°Skreebit, you...how?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a long story, but this place is simply too dangerous. You better get moving.¡± ¡°Haha, you¡¯ll have to tell me when we get back to the town. I¡¯m thinking I owe you a few drink fer all this!¡± ¡°A drink sounds nice, but I¡¯d rather have another one of those crystals.¡± Grundolf nodded his head, tossing another crystal to the ratman. ¡°I¡¯ve got enough to keep the town alive fer many generations to come now! One or two won¡¯t hurt a bit. Now let¡¯s get the hell outta here, I bet those humans are pissin their pants back there.¡± Skreebit smiled softly as he shook his head, holding the crystal up. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I won¡¯t be tagging along...¡± ¡°Aw hell, even you?¡± ¡°Sorry Grundolf, but now that my debt is settled I think it¡¯s time for me to leave.¡± Grundolf nodded slowly, it looked like he was losing two old friends today. ¡°Well...least stop by fer a drink one o¡¯ these days.¡± ¡°Haha, you think I¡¯m just gonna go off and get myself killed, you damn dwarf. Of course I¡¯ll be back. I¡¯ve just got to a bit of business to take care of first.¡± The ratman¡¯s tail swished happily from side to side, putting a smile onto the dwarf¡¯s face. Feeling satisfied, he reached down to pick up the slab, only to find that it was still quite hot. Grundolf wrapped cloth around it and tossed it into his rucksack. An explosion shook the earth. Grundolf looked up to find the ratman soaring through the air, below him a stream of fire. Skreebit launched himself straight through one of the cracks in the ceiling, leaving only a blackened circle on the ground. Skreebit smiled as he felt the cool breeze brush against his fur. It had simply been too long. {Now who to visit first¡­} Skreebit didn¡¯t have time to decide, the flames that covered his body started to sputter out. Soon they vanished, leaving the ratman horrified as he started to fall. {Oh, for fucks sake!} ¡°Skreebit about to be Skree-splat!¡± Skreebit landed face first into a snowdrift, right on the outskirts of the forest. Chapter 11: Out of the Frying Pan Zhukov and Vasily¡¯s groups exchanged stories. Much to the surprise of Vasily, the ashy remains turned out to be the monstrosity from earlier. Apparently Grundolf had been saved by Skreebit, who finished off the monstrosity for good. The ratman then disappeared, apparently by flying through the ceiling. It sounded like pure nonsense. Zhukov didn¡¯t press the him for anymore details, he was just happy the dwarf was ready to leave. As they were leaving, Zhukov caught a glimpse of the crystal in Vasily¡¯s hands. ¡°Ahh, so you found one too?¡± ¡°Ja, did you have to pry it from ze maw of a horrific foe constructed solely of bone too?¡± Hans butted into the conversation, greatly exaggerating how they came across the crystal. ¡°Uh...no. Grundolf here was mining them from the walls. Apparently they were the reason we came here. ¡°Oh, really?¡± ¡°Yup, he didn¡¯t say much more than that. Well, other than that we¡¯re in for a surprise when we return to the town.¡± ¡°Vell, vhat are ve waiting for zen? Let¡¯s get going!¡± ¡°Hey, hold on one second. Our torch seemed to have gone out not too long after finding Grundolf here, and I can see you don¡¯t have your torch either¡­¡± ¡°Haha, what a strange thing to happen.¡± Hans, Vasily, and Jack laughed nervously after remembering that their torch had too gone out, after they took the crystal from its pedestal ¡°Oh, I got you covered lads. Here take one of these!¡± Grundolf passed everyone a small crystal, to use as a light source. ¡°Huh, these just might work.¡±. The group backtracked through the cavern, encountering little resistance on the way. They stopped at the room where they first encountered the monstrosity, to collect the corpse of Joxil, the gremlin. To their surprise the entire room was covered in darkness, as all the torches had gone out. ¡°You can rest easy now, old friend. Your town is safe.¡± Grundolf had no difficulties finding the corpse of Joxil. He picked the gremlin up and waited for the others. Before leaving Vasily swapped his broken rifle for one that still had a stock. The group had also set out to gather up what little remained, as Grundolf¡¯s sudden actions had forced them to halt their scavenging earlier. Zhukov surveyed the carnage once more. The dead numbered nine in this room alone; along with the numerous other corpses there were simply too many for a squadron. Perhaps they were part of a platoon? Though he hadn¡¯t seen anyone who looked like a commander among the dead. Zhukov didn¡¯t think much further, instead directing his attention to the current state of their supplies. Much of the ammunition they tried to salvage had been damaged in the conflict, but they had still managed to recover a sizeable amount. In total they currently had 26 usable, and fully loaded, en-bloc clips of 6.5x52mm ammunition for their Carcano rifles. They had also managed to recover around 150 rounds of loose ammo. They continued backtracking their way through the darkened halls of the labyrinth, eventually coming across the other battle site. Here there were even more dead, twelve corpses total. Zhukov and his men began scavenging them too. ¡°Aw hell yeah, found a M1935!¡± Sergei held up his prize, a Beretta M1935. The man he looted it from was dressed a bit nicer the surrounding corpses. It would appear that they had found the platoon¡¯s commander. Now it was no wonder why the survivor¡¯s had seemed so disorganized. ¡°Vhat is your obsessions vith firearms anyways?¡± ¡°A gun will never betray you...¡± Sergei spoke with his usual calm tone of voice, yet a hint of sorrow still managed to slip out. He turned his attention back to the corpse, looking for additional ammunition for his new prize. From this site they managed to collect quite a bit more. In total 31 en bloc clips, along with 200 or so loose rounds. They had also managed to find a still working Breda 30 light machine gun. The Breda 30 was fed by 20 round stripper clips of 6.5x52mm. There had been two of them in the hallway, but the other had its clip jammed in the receiver and could not be recovered. Along with the lmg, they managed to find four ammunition boxes with stripper clips. All together, they salvaged 30 clips for the Breda 30. They moved the clips into two boxes, as each box could hold 15, then took the two with them. Sergei wasn¡¯t the only one to find a Beretta M1935 either, the two corpses next to the lmgs had also been issued the handguns. Together with the three pistols, they had 8 magazines of .32 ACP, each holding eight rounds. Yakov swapped his rifle for the lmg, a weapon he was more accustomed to using, and took one of the handguns. The group continued making their way through the labyrinth. When they arrived back outside they were greeted by the sight of the setting sun. ¡°Well, we made it.¡± After hearing Zhukov¡¯s words, Vasily¡¯s stomach growled with hunger. He scratched his head and looked around nervously. ¡°Hey uh, anyone got any booze?¡± Sergei started laughing. ¡°Haha, I¡¯d like to see you sate a hunger like that with alcohol!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve done it before, and I¡¯ll do it again!¡± Vasily¡¯s absolute confidence in his statement caused everyone to erupt into laughter. ¡°Damn it Vasily, your alcoholism will kill you before hunger does!¡± ¡°A life without alcohol, is a life I¡¯d not like to live.¡± The group decided to set up camp in the ruins, as Grundolf said it would be too difficult trying to lead them through the darkness. They gathered up twigs and relit the Italian¡¯s fire. Vasily took one of the tuna rations they had gotten from the Italians, spearing the can on his bayonet and holding it up over the fire. ¡°That poor rifle¡­¡± Sergei mumbled to himself after seeing the display. Instead of copying Vasily, he took his knife and started carving a branch. After feeling satisfied with his new spear, he poked two holes in a can of tuna, then drove the makeshift spear through the holes. ¡°Look Vasily, you can do like this and not end up with food smeared all over your bayonet.¡± Vasily looked at the can then turned his eyes back to his cooking meal, uncaring. ¡°Too much work¡­¡± Sergei sighed and went back to heating up his own tuna. The others also joined in, apparently taking the tuna cooking as a challenge. ¡°Hehe, you guys call that efficiency? Looks like you still have a lot to learn¡­toss me your pliers Sergei.¡± ¡°Who the hell cooks with a pair of pliers?¡± ¡°Me¡­¡± Sergei gave Zhukov a questioning look, he shook his head and shuffled around his uniform. After a few moments of searching he pulled out a pair of pliers and tossed them to Zhukov. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing, but...try not to kill us.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah. Don¡¯t worry this isn¡¯t dangerous, this is cooking!¡± ¡°Zat is not very reassuring¡­¡± Zhukov laughed manically as he took out five loose bullets. He used the pair of pliers to grab the tip of the bullet, then started wiggling it back and forth. Eventually the bullet¡¯s tip popped off. He repeated this with another four bullets. ¡°Ooh, is this some sort of human ritual?¡± ¡°Sorry Grundolf, the only ritual these blokes have is drinking.¡± ¡°Huh, someone say it¡¯s time to drink?¡± ¡°Vasily, your food is burning~¡± ¡°Its called being thoroughly cooked, Yakov.¡± ¡°Whatever you say~¡± Vasily would¡¯ve continued to cook the tuna longer, but Yakov¡¯s shit eating grin was disturbing him. He brought the can back out of the fire and opened it with his knife. Much to his dismay, Yakov was right. The tuna had been charred. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Vasily shrugged and gave Yakov the middle finger, tossing a piece of the tuna into his own mouth. He quickly spit it back out though, as he had forgotten the food was still hot. Meanwhile, Zhukov was continuing his madness. He opened a can of tuna, then scraped the insides out. After pouring the gunpowder from the bullets into the can, he replaced the tuna and lid. ¡°Oh, schei?e!¡± Hans and the others watched with horror as Zhukov nonchalantly tossed the tuna bomb into the fire. Everyone except Zhukov and Grundolf ran and ducked for cover. After a few moments the gunpowder ignited, sending an explosion of tuna up into the air. Grundolf looked up at the raining tuna with amazement. He stuck out his tongue, as if to catch a piece of tuna like a snowflake. Though instead of tuna, the lid of the can landed on his face. ¡°Aww¡­¡± After their shenanigans were over everyone went to sleep. They were sleeping in shifts as one person needed to stand watch. ¡­.. The night passed calmly, without danger. Under the light of the rising sun, they set off through the forest, following after Grundolf. They soon heard the neighing of horses, signaling that they were growing closer to their destination. The horses seemed to have survived, though they weren¡¯t too happy having been left out in the cold overnight. They calmed down after seeing Grundolf appear from the brush though, playfully nudging the dwarf with their noses. Grundolf gave them both a pat on the head, then went to the back of the cart to grab them some hay. After the horses were fed, everyone gathered up in the cart and they sent off, back to Kelturm. With nothing but time to waste on the way back, Zhukov started interrogating the dwarf. ¡°So you wanna tell us the point of all this now?¡± Grundolf nodded his head. ¡°Aye, suppose it¡¯s only right. Now, where to start...¡± ¡°How about telling us what the hell those crystals are.¡± ¡°Ah, these magic crystals.¡± Grundolf pulled out one of the greenish-yellow crystals. It was no bigger than the tip of a thumb, yet it was apparently more valuable than a life. ¡°A magic crystal?¡± ¡°Aye, it may look small, but it contains more power than you could ever dream of.¡± ¡°So...it¡¯s a power source of sorts then?¡± ¡°Aye, you could say that. They are mainly used by the Hub¡¯s sorcerers, though they do have...other uses. For example heating a furnace, lighting a torch, or even...growing food.¡± Zhukov thought back to the first town they went through. He remembered the crystal embedded into the tree and the torches that lit up automatically at night. ¡°Then these crystals...they were for your town?¡± ¡°Aye, you guessed right. These crystals, they hold massive amounts of power within, but that power is finite. Depending on what they¡¯re are used for they can last anywhere from thousands of years, to only a few minutes. Kelturm¡¯s crystal was on its last legs, if we didn¡¯t get a new crystal then all hell would¡¯ve broken loose.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just get another from the Hub then? From what you were saying they sounded rather commonplace.¡± ¡°Ha, if only that were true. Only sorcerers and nobles, the upper class citizens, have the funds to purchase such expensive items. When we sent off to find a better life, we only had the funds to purchase a used crystal. We simply don¡¯t have the funds to do such a thing again.¡± ¡°These crystals, are they really necessary for your town to thrive?¡± ¡°More than you¡¯d think. The town¡¯s crystal does everything from producing food to heating homes. Without it, it would be impossible for our town to exist in these wastes. It¡¯s impossible to farm out here, and there is barely any game to hunt.¡± ¡°So, instead of evacuating the town and returning to this Hub place, you decided to risk everyone¡¯s life on a hunch?¡± ¡°Ha, we left that damned place for good reason. Besides, we didn¡¯t have the supplies to make the trip. Half the town would ended up dead from cold, or hunger. I assure you, Joxil and I thought of that, but it was to be a last resort.¡± ¡°I see, it sounds like you don¡¯t exactly like this hub place?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll see if you ever make it there. Life is good for the rich, while every moment is struggle of survival for the poor. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll ask me why that is, so I¡¯ll just give you a rundown on the Hub.¡± ¡°Sure. More information is always useful.¡± ¡°Alright then, you see the Hub is more than a city, it¡¯s an entire country, underground. The Hub is divided into nine levels. The only entrances are located at the first floor, the top, and the ninth floor, the bottom. These levels are also the locations of the guard and the slums. The second and eighth floors are inhabited by the lower class. Then you have the third and seventh floors, which is where the middle class and craftsmen are located. Next, you have the fourth and sixth floors, the nobles and sorcerers live there. Finally you have the fifth floor, an entire level for those council bastards.¡± ¡°The Hub is run by a council?¡± ¡°Aye, a council of bastards that is. Every level has two representatives which are a part of the council, except the fifth floor. So, in total there are 16 council members. Funny thing is though, not a damn one of them is from the floor they represent. They were born and raised on the fifth floor¡± ¡°So, it''s more a council of kings than a council of representatives?¡± ¡°Aye, works as well as you think it does.¡± Zhukov thought of another question that had been bugging him for a while. ¡°By the way, what is with your obsessions with trees?¡± ¡°Our obsession with trees? Oh, you mean the trees of life! I¡¯m not sure how much you remember me telling you about world tree¡­¡± ¡°You told us that there was something eating it, then it was killed by the...great one or something.¡± ¡°Aye, that¡¯s how the legends go. The thing is though, the Hub was actually created underneath the world tree.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Yup, you see the world tree is still around today, growing on the rocky mountains that the Hub was built under. We take saplings from the tree and grow them in places of worship, as a way of giving thanks to the world tree.¡± ¡°Why do you embed those crystals into the tree then?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a tradition that stems back to the days of old, also helps with managing a city¡¯s magical power. The roots spread far throughout the city you see. By the way, we¡¯ll be arriving at Kelturm in a few hours.¡± Grundolf¡¯s comment had reminded Zhukov how long they¡¯d been sitting in the back of the cart for. He looked up at sky, noticing that the sun was already setting. Apparently trip from Kelturm to the ruins had taken an entire day. No wonder Grundolf had taken them in the middle of the night, had they left in the morning they would¡¯ve been forced to look for the ruins in the dark. Time passed, eventually the night divided the day, leaving them in darkness. The dwarf seemed to have no problems driving through the night, nor did he need a source of light in the darkness of the labyrinth. ¡°Hey Grundolf, you seem to be fine seeing in the dark, why¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Haha, I was born and raised in the Hub, human! Millenniums of living underground left most of us with better night vision.¡± ¡°Ah, I see.¡± Zhukov looked over the men in the back of the cart, everyone except him and Grundolf had drifted off to sleep. ¡°By the gods...¡± Zhukov looked over to Grundolf, finding the latter with his mouth open wide in shock. He turned his head to see what the dwarf was surprised about, and found Kelturm appearing over the horizon. ¡°Oh shit¡­¡± Kelturm was in flames. Chapter 12: Into the Fire Grundolf hastened the pace of the horses, while Zhukov roused the others. It looked like no matter where they went, trouble would follow. As they neared the town, signs of chaos became even more apparent. They were able to make out the unmoving bodies of the lookouts on the walls, which had still stood strong. Though the walls hadn¡¯t been breached, signs of damage, claw marks in particular, could be seen. They seemed to continue up along the wall, as if their owners had been attempting to scale the it. Grundolf brought the cart near the gate, which had remained unopened. ¡°Shit...it¡¯s shut.¡± ¡°Any other way in?¡± ¡°The north gate on the other end of town might-¡± ¡°Stop right there dwarf, Alyona has a better solution for us.¡± ¡°Haha, yeah. I¡¯m sure Alyona has been waiting for some action. ¡°Who ze fuck is zis Alyona, and vhy von¡¯t anyone tell Hans? ¡°Just turn around cabbage.¡± Hans turned back and looked around. ¡°Vhere is zis Alyona? All I can see is shitty Russian tank.¡± ¡°You insult Alyona again, and I¡¯ll break my foot off so far up in your ass, that you¡¯ll end up shitting through your mouth until the day you die!¡± ¡°Eh, Alyona is a beautiful person.¡± ¡°That¡¯s better.¡± Hans, Jack, and Grundolf stood on the sidelines, watching as the Russians climbed back into their tank. After a few moments, the tank roared to life. It¡¯s turret made a clunking noise as it rotated to face the gate, which was made of wood reinforced with metal. A thunderous explosion caused everyone outside the tank to dive for cover. The gate had exploded into splinters and shrapnel. Grundolf jumped up, ready to run straight into the town, but he was forced to stop moving after people started pouring out of the open gate. Many of them were horrendously injured, some the exploding gate, others had burns and cuts. ¡°Oh, shit.¡± Grundolf immediately went over and attempted to calm the survivors down, but he never had a chance. The svalski were close behind the survivors, tearing into the defenseless crowd. Grundolf was forced to watch helplessly as his people died. ¡°Get on the ground if you want to live!¡± Zhukov¡¯s booming voice surprised many of the survivors, causing them to immediately drop to the ground. A flurry of hot lead was sent into the raging svalski horde. Zhukov grimaced, watching as both man and beast fell, never to rise again. It was a painful decision for him, one he had become used to making. The surviving svalski screeched and retreated back into the burning city, leaving only a field of blood behind them. Zhukov and his crew exited the tank, and found hundreds of hateful eyes staring at them. ¡°Xar...stay with me Xar!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t...worry, Trefta. Everything will...be alright. Just...take care of the little one¡­¡± ¡°No! Xar!¡± ¡°I...I don¡¯t wanna die.¡± ¡°Mama? Mama!¡± Yakov, who had been manning the machine gun, and Vasily were the most affected by the scene. They stared out at the dead and dying with blank expressions, Vasily clutching the pendant around his neck. Zhukov gritted his teeth after seeing the results of his actions. ¡°Now all of you get the hell away from the gate, unless you too want to end up dead¡± The hateful eyes all focused on Zhukov as they followed his orders. Zhukov turned and walked around to the other side of the tank, hiding out of sight. After confirming that no one else was around, he let his shoulders slump, and reached for his revolver. He stared at his old companion, one he had been awarded with for his bravery during the first world war. One that he had used to execute men, both friend and foe. How many had died at its...his hands? He couldn¡¯t remember. Zhukov¡¯s body shook as a memory flowed into his head, one he could never forget. A man was sleeping in bed with his wife, unaware of the trespasser in their room. He was a comrade, a friend, a soldier, a husband, a politician, and a traitor. The trespasser raised the silenced revolver in his hands, aiming at the man in bed. Zhukov tried to stop the assailant, but he was helpless against the flow of time. The first shot was fired, and a life was taken. The man¡¯s wife opened her eyes after hearing the sudden disturbance. She stared at the corpse of her husband, not even letting out a whimper as she took hold of his head, tears streaming down her face. A second shot was fired, and a second life was taken. The assailant doused the room in alcohol and was about to set fire to it, when the crying of a small child stopped him. He walked back over to the bed and threw off the covers, revealing the child underneath. The child wasn¡¯t even a year old. The trespasser raised the revolver once more, pointing it at the head of the child. The crying stopped and the child opened its eyes. The hand of the intruder shook after seeing the child¡¯s amber eyes. He dropped his revolver, and the memory faded away. Zhukov looked back at his hands, which were now empty. ¡°Hey, you alright boss?¡± Zhukov looked up and found Sergei standing in front of him. ¡°Yeah...I¡¯m fine¡± ¡°You sure? You look pretty shaken. Also you dropped this.¡± Sergei held out the revolver that had slipped out of Zhukov¡¯s hands. He snactched it back and reholstered it. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll be fine. Anyways, I¡¯m gonna head into the town and look for Igor. I didn¡¯t see him among the crowd.¡± ¡°Sounds good, I¡¯ll round up the others and-¡± ¡°No, I need you to stay here and keep these civilians safe.¡± ¡°What!?¡± ¡°Yeah, take Yakov and Vasily with you too.¡± ¡°Lieutenant, this is-¡± ¡°This is an order, Sergei.¡± ¡°...Fine, but don¡¯t go getting yourself killed.¡± Zhukov nodded and opened up one of the containers on the side of the tank, taking out the Mosin Nagant, bayonet, and stripper clips within. Then he climbed back into the tank, retrieving his PPSh. He also took three drums of 7.62x25 for the submachine gun, 14 rounds of 7.62x38 for his revolver, and a single drum of 7.62x54r. After leaving the vehicle, Zhukov unloaded the drum of 7.62x54r, using the ammo inside to reload his stripper clips. Zhukov slung the rifle over his back and took the PPSh into his hands. He turned and started walking towards the gate, but he was stopped by a small dwarf, who was standing in his way. ¡°What?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t agree with what you did back there.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone would.¡± ¡°But, I have to say thanks.¡± ¡°For what? Killing your people?¡± ¡°No...even I know that if you didn¡¯t fire into the crowd, there would have been even more dead than there are now.¡± ¡°Sorry¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be. I¡¯ll be needing you to watch my back when we head into town.¡± Zhukov raised an eyebrow at the dwarf¡¯s words. ¡°What? My people are still in there, and I¡¯ll be damned if I just leave ¡®em in there to die .¡± ¡°Fine, but you aren¡¯t going unarmed.¡± Zhukov walked over to Yakov who was still looking dazed, and slapped him. ¡°Hey Yakov, go get your pansy ass back to the tank. You¡¯re gonna be helping Sergei keep these people safe.¡± Yakov nodded his head and started slowly walking back to the tank, which did not please Zhukov. After having his rifle ripped from his hands and taking a kick to the back, Yakov fell to the ground. Zhukov threw the rifle to Grundolf and picked his subordinate up off the ground. ¡°Now look here you pessimistic son of a bitch. Either you help these people to redeem our actions, or we¡¯ll end up with more dead because of our refusal to act.¡± Yakov seemed to snap out of his trance after hearing Zhukov¡¯s words, he shook his head with newfound vigor and ran off to join Sergei. Zhukov then turned to Vasily. ¡°I don¡¯t think I need to say much to you.¡± ¡°Zhukov, will we ever know peace?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know Vasily...I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± Vasily too turned and followed after Yakov. Grundolf watched the two walk away, then looked up at Zhukov. ¡°You¡¯re a good leader.¡± ¡°No, I have good men.¡± Grundolf shrugged and followed the human into the city. They didn¡¯t notice Hans and Jack nonchalantly following after them. After passing the gate Zhukov dropped the the ground, clutching his head in pain. A feminine voice resounded throughout his thoughts. {Take your pack and leave human, we hold no grudges against your ilk.} Zhukov struggled to get himself off the ground, he couldn¡¯t just leave the city. His comrade was still inside. The voice in his head seemed to have been reading his thoughts, as it picked up on this. {Oh, that human was one of your pack¡¯s? Such a shame, he was a strong warrior.} ¡°You bitch!¡± Zhukov forced himself upright, ignoring the pain in his head. ¡°You alright human?¡± ¡°Yeah...yeah, just a headache. Where¡¯s the best vantage point around here?¡± ¡°Hmm, the church¡¯s bell tower should enable you to look over most of the city.¡± ¡°Alright, lead the way.¡± The town¡¯s streets were devastated. Corpses lied amongst the rubble, their blood spilling into nearby gutters. Burning debris was constantly falling from buildings. Low growls could be heard, and shadows could be seen darting in and out of alleyways. {This is your last chance human, turn back now and I¡¯ll let you leave with your life.} The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Zhukov ignored the voice and continued following after the dwarf. {If you wish to die, then so be it.} The growls became louder, and began coming from all directions. Zhukov looked around, they had been surrounded. The svalski were everywhere, perched upon the rooftops, creeping out the the alleyways, even emerging from the rubble. ¡°Shit, I hope you know how to use that rifle dwarf.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± Zhukov laughed and readied his submachine gun. ¡°Wait, I¡¯m serious human. How do you use this thing?¡± Grundolf¡¯s voice went unheard, muffled by the sounds of gunfire. In close quarters the firepower of the PPSh was unparalleled. Even the svalski, with their tough bodies, were helpless against the storm of bullets. Zhukov emptied the magazine in a matter of seconds, taking the lives of around five of the svaslki in the process. He slammed another drum into his PPSh, watching as the svalski scurried back into the shadows. Zhukov turned and looked at the dwarf with a big grin plastered on his face. Grundolf was staring in amazement at the fresh corpses. Even the svalski, a troublesome foe, were like nothing but ants before the human¡¯s fearsome weapon. ¡°Human, teach me your ways.¡± Grundolf held up his rifle and stared at Zhukov. ¡°It¡¯s a simple task, just work the bolt and pull the trigger. When the rifle is empty, just put a new clip in.¡± Zhukov slung his submachine gun and brought out his rifle. Then he gave the dwarf a quick rundown on how to wield it. ¡°Duck Zhukov!¡± Zhukov heard a familiar voice ring out as he was teaching the dwarf. He tilted his head off to the side in confusion and felt a breeze of air brush past where his head had been moments prior. Zhukov turned back and found one of the svalski preparing to lash out at him again, they were under attack. Zhukov quickly slammed a round into the chamber of his rifle and then bayoneted the creature, firing a round in the process. Though the shot caused the svalski to screech in pain, it was still standing. It picked Zhukov up off the ground using one of its arms, and prepared the other to deliver a blow to the helpless Russian. Before it could, however, another shot rang out and the beast¡¯s hand was torn asunder. Zhukov was dropped to the ground as the beast reeled in pain, turning to escape to the shadows, but it never had a chance. Another shot rang out, this one hitting the svalski directly in the leg. The creature continued trying to crawl away, but Zhukov had no plans to let it escape. He raised his rifle and fired a round into its head, silencing the creature for good. He turned back and looked at the dwarf. ¡°Thanks for the help.¡± ¡°Wasn¡¯t me¡­¡± The dwarf raised his hands up in innocence, leaving Zhukov confused. If the dwarf hadn¡¯t shot then who had? It didn¡¯t take long for him to find out, as two men were approaching them. ¡°Try to be more careful next time, Zhukov.¡± ¡°Ja, you are lucky that ve vere nearby.¡± Zhukov¡¯s expression went blank after seeing the two newcomers. He pretended to ignore them, turning back and continuing down the street. ¡°Vhat? No thanks for saving your life, bah.¡± Grundolf quickly ran to catch up with Zhukov, while the others tailed behind. They soon came out of the city streets and into the plaza. At the center of the plaza, lying underneath a tree, was the battered body of Igor. Zhukov would have immediately run out to help him, but Igor was surrounded by a massive horde of svalski, numbering well into the hundreds. There was another one there too, someone who stood out in the horde of svalski. She had the physique of a human female and was wearing a white robe, yet something about her seemed...off. The woman was an albino, both her hair and skin as white as snow. She had had the same dreadful red eyes as the svalski too. The nails on her hands weren¡¯t quite nails either, instead much more akin to claws. She could have been considered beautiful by some standard, yet the sense of pure terror and dread she invoked upon the mind banished such thoughts. There was something more to her too, almost as though the woman had an aura of sorrow surrounding her. ¡°Is she a friend of yours human?¡± ¡°Now zis, zis is a voman vorthy of ze name Alyona. Not zat piece of scrap ze Russians call a tank. Zhukov dropped to the ground clutching his head again. The voice was speaking to him, much louder this time. {I offer you life, and you push it away. I wonder why?} Zhukov felt a searing pain in his head, it was nigh unbearable. Images flashed by, of times long past. Of his his upbringing in a small village on the outskirts of Moscow. Of the Russo-Japanese war, his first war. Where he found brothers, and lost a father. Of the horrors of the first world war. Of his service in the Cheka, the GPU, the OGPU, and finally, the NKVD. Zhukov was forced to remember everything, including the pain. How many of his comrades had he seen die? Too many. {Oh, you aren¡¯t of this world, what a surprise. Still, it¡¯s strange. Both you and this man here know only war, I can see it in your eyes. But that is where your similarities end. While he embraces it, you deny it. Why?} ¡°Get the fuck out of my head!¡± Zhukov pushed the pain aside, forcing himself back off the ground. He wielded his submachine gun in a blind fury, firing indiscriminately into the horde of svalski. His other companions joined in too, sending a hail of bullets into the crowd. {No!} Zhukov reeled as pain was sent through his head once again, he fought through the it and continued firing. Memories flashed through his head as the svalski died, ones that were not his own. They were dark, barely discernible, and so Zhukov ignored them. The svalski weren¡¯t going to just lie down and die either, they charged valiantly into the storm of bullets. Their efforts wouldn¡¯t have been in vain, if it weren¡¯t for an unexpected guest. The ground shook and a thunderous roar resounded throughout the streets of Kelturm. Hans let his curiosity get the better of him and he turned back to see a sight for sore eyes. ¡°On second thought, I like zis Alyona better.¡± The Russians¡¯ KV-1s appeared in the plaza, guns blazing. Though the tank only needed a single person to drive, two people were needed to operate the main cannon. Which meant that as Vasily drove, Yakov was assisting Sergei as the loader. Though Zhukov wanted to curse at his subordinates for disobeying his orders, he was incredibly thankful for their appearance. The tank was making short work of the svalski with its main cannon and coaxial machine gun. {You!} The albino seemed to have been enraged by their actions, she darted forward with an inhuman speed. However, the woman ended up running straight into the path of the tank¡¯s 76mm cannon. Her body was thrown through the air by the explosion, like a ragdoll. She managed to land on both legs, but the explosion had taken her right arm. The woman looked at the carnage that surrounded her and fell to the ground, nearly all of her companions had died in the slaughter. Tears began streaming down her face as she stared in the direction of Zhukov. {Our people...go unavenged.} Everyone, both in the town and on the outskirts, collapsed from mental pain. A memory flashed through their heads, of a place somewhere underground. A variety of men, both short and tall, with different skin colors were walking through the tunnels, sending jets of flames shooting from their hands. The targets of their flames were women, like the albino, and small pink creatures who looked like younger versions of the svalski. They burned to death without putting up any resistance. The last thing they caught a glimpse of were the red robes adorned with golden threads or the fire wielding beings. The images faded after that. After Zhukov and his companions managed to recollect their bearing they looked around, only to find that the woman had disappeared, leaving not even a trail of blood behind. ¡­.. A hooded figure in a black robe was standing on a slight slope, looking off towards the town of Kelturm. His greenish-yellow eyes shone in the darkness. He watched as a white blob seemed to be moving along the snowy plains, nearly blending in with the background. He reached out his hand, pointing his palm towards the blob, and mummered a few words. The crystal around his neck started to float, humming softly, then he disappeared in a flash of light. The hooded figure appeared next to the blob, a woman clad in white. Her clothes were bloody and she was missing an arm. She was surprised by the sudden appearance of the black robed one. ¡°You are!?¡± ¡°Yes¡­¡± The hooded one¡¯s raspy voice rang out as he held out his arm once more. He mummered a few more words, causing the crystal around his neck to float again. Then he reached out with a boney hand and grabbed the still bleeding stub that used to be an arm. The woman tried to pull back, but the blood loss had made her weak. The hooded one didn¡¯t mean to cause harm, however. Instead he used his abilities to stop the bleeding and accelerate the healing of the skin. He couldn¡¯t give her a new arm, so she would have to do with the minor healing he could provide. After the deed was done, the hooded one released his grip on the woman, and she ran away, disappearing into the snowy tundra. The hooded one looked back to the town of Kelturm. A small breeze blew by, knocking his hood back, and revealing that he was a skeleton. He put his hood back up and started walking. Chapter 13: Trail of Tears The outsiders were standing next to Grundolf, watching as the townsfolk went about reclaiming their lives. Last night¡¯s raid had left their once prosperous town in shambles. In a single night they had lost 3/4ths of their population. The survivors who remained were left only with the charred remains of their town. ¡°What are you going to do now?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯ll tell you what we won¡¯t be doing. Giving up this town, that¡¯s for damn sure. But...¡± Grundolf stared out at the ruins of his town. He watched as a woman and her child stood over the corpse of a man. The woman crouched down and give the man a kiss on the cheek, before lifting him up and disappearing into the streets. Small splotches of dampness appeared on the ground, trailing behind her. The child tugged at his mother¡¯s waist with an innocence that didn¡¯t quite fit the scene. ¡°...First we must send off the dead.¡± ¡°Is there anyways we can help?¡± ¡°No, this is a burden for us, and us alone. For you outsiders, the only thing we ask of you is to watch.¡± With no other explanation the dwarf started walking down the empty streets. He too was carrying a corpse, one that was once an old friend. The outsiders followed after the dwarf, not saying another word. The streets were empty, save for a few souls. All who remained were carrying the dead, like the woman from before. Most of the people seemed to be fine with the task, but there was one lady that had caught the attention of the outsiders. She was small, even for the tiny people of the town. Her wrinkled green face and messy white hair showed her age. In her hands was the body of someone larger than herself. Her arms were shaking under the weight of the body. Yakov walked over, with the intention of helping. He stood in front of her smiling, arms stretched outward, beckoning the old lady to share the burden. The woman looked up at the tall human with a face that was not filled with sorrow, but one that was twisted in anger. She spat in his face and trudged on, legs shaking. Yakov¡¯s face instead was the one filled with sorrow. The cheerfulness drained from his face as his eyes sloped down. Grundolf looked over, shaking his head slowly. ¡°Boy, I told you. These are our burdens, ones that we must bear, and we alone.¡± Yakov nodded his head solemnly, before falling back in with the others. They continued down the streets. The closer they grew to the heart of the city, the more numerous the splotches of dampness on the streets became. It was as though it had rained, yet there was nary a cloud in sight. They soon came into the plaza, where trails of damp ground all led to one place. The church. The outsiders looked out and saw a line of people, all waiting to head inside. A soft humming could be heard as a breeze blew gently through the leaves of the tree that protruded from the roof. The tune was one of sadness, yet there was something more to it. Something they couldn¡¯t quite put into words. Amidst the crowd, faces that expressed both approval and resentment could be seen. Both types were looking in their direction. Eventually the line shrank, and the outsiders were drawn into the church. With their height, they were able to easily see what was going on inside. They watched a familiar woman put the corpse of a man down in front of the tree. She knelt down next to the lifeless body, drawing her child closer, and began humming a soft tune. It was the same one they had heard outside. As she hummed, something spectacular started happening to the lifeless body. Light seemed to dance around it, flowing along to the rhythm of the tune. Then, starting from the feet, the body dissipated into glowing particles of pure lights. These little particles of light continued dancing to the rhythm of the hum, as they vanished into the crystal embedded into the trunk of the tree. The body was gone by the time she finished her song. When the woman rose up from the ground and turned to leave the building, her face could finally be seen. Tears were still flowing from her reddened eyes, but she seemed calmed by the event. The outsiders stood and watched as Grundolf repeated the steps, but with the corpse of the gremlin this time. The gremlin disappeared into the crystal like many before. When the dwarf rose up and returned to the outsiders, even his face showed reddened eyes. He beckoned them to follow and went back out into the plaza. They did manage to catch a glimpse of something new in the dwarf¡¯s hands, a journal of sorts. They waited out in the plaza, alongside the other survivors, until the last one passed on. Then they stood still, all eyes focused on the tree atop the church. It¡¯s gentle tune growing yet louder still. A flash of light was emitted from the tree, temporarily blinding everyone who was looking. And then there was silence. After the spectacle the crowd dispersed, leaving only Grundolf and the outsiders in the plaza. Hans was the first one to speak up about the event. ¡°Zat, vas beautiful..¡± Grundolf simply nodded and headed off, back towards the church. The others trailed behind him. When they returned to the church, the first thing the outsiders noticed was the fading light of the crystal embedded in the trunk. Grundolf plucked it out of the tree and watched as it turned from a greenish-yellow to a silver grey. He raised it up, and gently blew on it. The crystal disintegrated, blowing away like dust in the wind. Grundolf¡¯s eyes went downcast for a moment, as he said his final farewells. He turned back to the tree and placed a new crystal into the trunk. Then he turned back to the outsiders. ¡°I must thank ye, for all your help.¡± ¡°Not like we had much choice¡­¡± ¡°Aye aye. I¡¯m sorry about that, but you stuck with me until the end. And for that, I¡¯m grateful.¡± Most of the outsiders were bashful about being thanked, nervously scratching their heads and looking away from the dwarf. ¡°Well, how about we go check on that friend of yours. What was his name again?¡± ¡°Igor.¡± Igor had survived the attack amazingly, though his condition was dire when they had found him. In addition to numerous cuts and bruises, he¡¯d sustained a broken arm. The brute wasn¡¯t one to lie down and die though. In fact, he was the first one standing after the mysterious woman¡¯s mental attack. Though by the time the others had all been roused, he was lying once again on the ground. Grundolf took him to the local apothecary and found someone with medical knowledge, though he never informed any of the outsiders who it was. The outsiders followed behind the dwarf, they were heading to the apothecary. A sign with a mortar and pestle denoted that they were at the right place. Though, as they were about to enter, the sound of someone screaming inside stopped them in their tracks. Grundolf shook his head, watching as Zhukov brandished his submachine gun. He was about to open the door himself, but it was thrown open before he could. The door caught him in the face, sending him straight to the ground. From the building, Igor emerged wearing only his trousers. He had a cast slung around his right arm, and a maddening look in his eyes. ¡°Oh, thank god you are here! This crazy woman she-¡± ¡°Oi, where ya think yer going? I ain¡¯t don wit chu.¡± Igor¡¯s body shivered after hearing a voice come from the building he had just left. He quickly picked Zhukov, who was still stunned, off the ground and hid behind him. ¡°Wut? Ye afraid dis old maid is gonna comment on yer pecker? ¡°Go away you crazy bitch!¡± ¡°Grundolf told me tah fix you up, and dat¡¯s wut I¡¯ma do.¡± A small lady emerged from the building this time. She was the same frail old lady that had spat in Yakov¡¯s face earlier. ¡°Oh, wut¡¯s dis Grundolf? Ye bringing me more playthings?¡± ¡°Not quite, that human¡¯s companions were worried about him. So I brought em over to take a looksie.¡± Igor looked down at the dwarf with the eyes of an abandoned puppy. ¡°Please...help me.¡± But Grundolf wasn¡¯t the one who made the decision, surprisingly it was Zhukov. He swapped places with Igor and pushed the latter back into the building with the old lady. He looked back with disbelief at his comrade¡¯s act of betrayal. ¡°But...why?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what you get for spending the night all cozy in a bed, while I was stuck in the back of a cart with these oafs.¡± ¡°Noooooo!¡± Igor¡¯s screams slowly faded as the door shut behind him. The others had chills go down their spines at the thought of what horrific treatment he was receiving. The horrified look on the faces of the outsiders caused Grundolf to burst out in laughter. ¡°Haha, don¡¯t fret too much. Isiry was...is the best healer we¡¯ve got now.¡± Grundolf shook his head solomny as his laughter died down. ¡°By the way Grundolf, I think we need to talk.¡± ¡°Aye, bet¡¯cha wonderin about those red robes, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, you know of them?¡± Grundolf stroked his beard. ¡°...Barely, such flamboyant garments are a rarity in the Hub. Only the council and their magicians are worthy of wearing such expensive silk.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± Zhukov pondered for a moment. It seemed as the answers to all their questions lied in the Hub. ¡°Also...that woman, she spoke to me before.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Right at the city gates, she told us to turn back. Saying something about not having any grudges with our ilk.¡± Grunolf¡¯s jaw dropped after hearing Zhukov¡¯s words. For such a bloodthirsty woman to be willing to spare a few lives, even after slaughtering more than half the town. ¡°Wait, your ilk? That¡¯s it!¡± Zhukov tilted his head at the dwarf¡¯s words. ¡°Humans are an incredibly rare sight in the Hub, as they normally stick to the deserts of Urlagh. Even rarer yet, were the humans who settled in this desolate wasteland alongside us. They showed a surprising amount of resilience against the cold, for people of a race that knew only the hot desert clim. Anyways, forgive my rambles. Back to the main point, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen a human among the council, much less among their sorcerers.¡± Stolen story; please report. ¡°I see. It¡¯s strange though. Why spare us now when they had no qualms with killing us in that labyrinth?¡± ¡°They were looking for something down there.¡± Zhukov turned around, surprised by the newcomer to their conversation. Behind him, stood a man dressed in a hooded black robe, his face couldn¡¯t be seen underneath. ¡°Who are you?¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t know.¡± Zhukov scratched his head. ¡°Well, you you said they were looking for something. Do you know what that something is?¡± ¡°That.¡± The hooded man pointed to the dwarf. ¡°Me?¡± The hooded man smacked his head and pointed again. ¡°No, not you. In your rucksack.¡± Grundolf raised an eyebrow, then pulled out his rucksack. He started sifting through it, but he had no idea what he was looking for. The hooded man was becoming impatient. ¡°It¡¯s a hunk of metal, probably a slab. It glows blue.¡± The hooded man¡¯s words caused Grundolf¡¯s eyes to go wide, he knew exactly what the man was talking about now. He reached back into the rucksack and pulled out a slab that glowed with a soft blue light. ¡°Where the hell did you get that at?¡± ¡°That thing in the labyrinth dropped it when it died.¡± ¡°Now, why don¡¯t you hand it here. In exchange, I¡¯ll...lend you my assistance on a few things...¡± ¡°Why the hell would we do that? You just told us that they were searching for it. It could be something dangerous, or more importantly, valuable¡± ¡°Indeed, and it¡¯s much safer in my hands than yours. Also, you¡¯ll find that I¡¯m the only person willing to take such a dangerous item off your hands, and give you something of value in exchange to boot. ¡± ¡°I¡¯m still not convinced.¡± ¡°How about I give a small sample of the knowledge I¡¯m willing to share then. For example, there¡¯s a city a few days travel to the north west. It is not of this world, in fact, I believe it is from yours. outsider.¡± ¡°A city from our world?¡± ¡°Indeed, and there are more of your kind there, though they didn¡¯t seem to getting along well.¡± Zhukov was definitely intrigued by the hooded man¡¯s proposition. And the trade did seem to be in their favor, after all the slab was nothing more than a slab to him. ¡°Grundolf, why don¡¯t you give him the slab. I¡¯d like to hear what he has to say.¡± ¡°I dunno, I¡¯m still not convinced.¡± Before the hooded man could speak up, more screams could be heard from inside the apothecary. The hooded man swayed his head back and forth as if contemplating something, before turning back to the dwarf. ¡°How about I fix that friend of yours in there up too, I know a bit healing magic myself.¡± ¡°Okay, okay.¡± Grundolf handed the hooded man the slab, then went into the apothecary to fetch Igor. He returned with a very nervous looking Russian. The hooded man mumbled a few words and then put his bony hand onto the arm of Igor. The crystal around the man¡¯s neck floated up and began humming. Then a soft green light was emitted from his hand, gently wrapping around the cast. A cracking noise came from the cast, causing Igor to wince. He didn¡¯t try to run away from this treatment though, as he feared he would be sent right back to the demonic old lady if he did. After the humming died down, the crystal stopped floating and the man pulled his hand back. ¡°There, you should be fine moving it now.¡± Igor smiled and tore the cast off, tossing it back into the apothecary. ¡°Ha, take that you old bitch!¡± Igor insults didn¡¯t go unheard, the old lady inside shouted something unintelligible as she tossed a chair out in retaliation. Igor failed to dodge and was struck in the torso, causing some of the other wounds to reopen. The hooded man sighed and stuck his hand out again. ¡°Stand still, I¡¯ll fix you up.¡± ¡°Vait, aren¡¯t you von of zose skeletons?¡± Hans looked around confused, he couldn¡¯t have been the only one to notice. The others didn¡¯t seem to care about this dead man that was healing the living. ¡°I suppose you could say that¡­¡± ¡°Zhen vhy are you helping us? Ze skeletons ve found earlier veren¡¯t very friendly.¡± ¡°Well, let¡¯s just say I still have my wits about me.¡± The skeleton¡¯s response didn¡¯t really answer Hans¡¯ question, leaving him confused. ¡°Vell, vhat is zis about a city then?¡± ¡°Well, I believe your kind called it London.¡± Jack¡¯s eyes went wide after hearing the name of the city. ¡°Oh, zat is ze city of ze French, yes?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know of any race called the French, the city was definitely inhabited by humans though.¡± ¡°Was there a large clock tower there?¡± Jack was nearly raving mad when he asked the question. ¡°A clock tower? I believe so.¡± ¡°Good god lads, we have to go! The Queen could be in danger!¡± ¡°A human queen was there? How did I miss her?¡± The skeleton mumbled to himself as Jack continued trying to convince the others to go. Zhukov stroked his beard and began to think. This wasn¡¯t their world, and they didn¡¯t really have any priorities right now, so why the hell not? ¡°Alright, alright. Calm down Jack, we¡¯ll head to London.¡± ¡°Vhat? I don¡¯t vant to see any more of zose Frenchmen again!¡± ¡°Thanks Zhukov.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t mention it, now wipe your face off, you¡¯re dripping snot everywhere. And the rest of you, let¡¯s get ready to move out.¡± ¡°I do have to warn you though, your kind seems to be in the middle of a war over there. Both sides wielding those strange weapons of yours too.¡± The skeleton pointed to the guns that Zhukov and the others had slung over their backs. ¡°Haha, don¡¯t worry. We¡¯re no strangers to that kind of fighting. In fact, it will be a welcome change after fighting those svalski sons of bitches.¡± Zhukov turned and put a hand on Sergei¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Make sure that Alyona is ready for combat.¡± ¡°Hmm, I¡¯m gonna need someone who knows how to work metal then. The driver¡¯s hatch still has a hole, which could prove fatal to the driver if we start getting shot at.¡± ¡°Check out the smithy here, tell em Grundolf sent ya and they¡¯ll lend you a hand.¡± Sergei nodded his head and grabbed Vasily, dragging him along. ¡°Wait, why me?¡± ¡°Well, you are the driver. Can¡¯t move Alyona without you.¡± ¡°Just push her then!¡± ¡°Aww, don¡¯t be that way. We¡¯re gonna have some fun!¡± Sergei drug Vasily into the plaza, where they had left the tank. A few small children of various races were using it as a play set. They swung from the cannon and danced around on the chassis. ¡°Hey you blasted brats, don¡¯t go fucking with Alyona! She¡¯ll tear you a new one if you anger her!¡± The children scattered after hearing Sergei shout. They didn¡¯t seem to have been dissuaded by his words though, as their innocent laughing could be heard from the shadows. Sergei shrugged it off and entered the tank with Vasily. They needn¡¯t move the tank far, as the smithy was one of the buildings surrounding the plaza. They shut the tank off and exited the vehicle to find a few small bearded men looking at them, they all looked similar to Grundolf. ¡°Well, that¡¯s quite the toy you got yerself there human.¡± ¡°Yeah, though I¡¯m not here to show it off. I was sent here by Grundolf, he said you could help with some metalworking.¡± ¡°Oh that old bastard Grundolf sent ya did he? Well, suppose I can¡¯t be shooing you off then. Whad¡¯ya need?¡± ¡°Glad to hear, Alyona here has a hole in her plating that needs mending.¡± ¡°Alyona eh? She¡¯s quite the beauty. Why don¡¯t you show me ¡®n the lads here where this hole is and we¡¯ll see what we can do.¡± ¡°Alright just follow me. Oh, and by the way I¡¯m Sergei and this here is Vasily.¡± ¡°Huh, Vasily who the hell is that?¡± ¡°He¡¯s this guy right over-¡± Sergei stopped talking and looked around in confusion. Vasily had disappeared. ¡­.. ¡°That bastard Sergei, trying to drag me off to go fix his precious. Ha, I¡¯d sooner drown myself in a bucket of piss. Now, where was that tavern again.¡± Vasily looked around, he was sure that he was in the right place, but the only building in sight was burned half to the ground. He crept a little closer and saw the charred remains of the tavern¡¯s sign. Vasily sighed with disappointment, but he wasn¡¯t about to give up on his expedition yet. When Vasily opened the tavern¡¯s ruined doors, he was able to make out the sound of a piano playing. His hopes were raised after he remembered the pianist who was playing the last time he was here. Though, after entering the building, Vasily wasn¡¯t able to find anyone other than the pianist. It was no wonder why either, debris littered the inside of the tavern, and light shone down from where there was once a roof. It was a surprise the place was still standing. Vasily made his way through the debris and sat at the tavern¡¯s counter, which was amazingly still in one piece. He looked over at the pianist who was playing a tune all too familiar. ¡°Where¡¯re the tavern keeper and that little waitress?¡± The pianist stopped playing music, and shook his head slowly without looking up from the keyboard. Vasily looked at him for a moment, then got up from his seat. He jumped over the counter and took a bottle of alcohol along with two glasses. The pianist looked up after hearing Vasily¡¯s movements, and saw the latter heading towards him with alcohol and a chair in tow. When Vasily sat down nearby the piano and poured him a drink, he couldn¡¯t help but let a soft smile appear on his face. The pianist went back to playing the piano, continuing the song from where he had left off. This time Vasily remembered what it was, a beautiful sadness. Chapter 14: A Short Respite Grundolf sat high atop the town walls, watching as the outsiders became nothing more than a speck on the horizon. They had left as quickly as they had came. It had been only three days since they¡¯d arrived, yet they were already off once more. The dwarf was not alone on the walls though, others had also come to see the outsiders off. Though, in comparison to the town¡¯s remaining population, they were few in number. After the outsiders could no longer be seen, everyone except for Grundolf descended the walls. The sole remaining dwarf turned around and looked down upon the town. The streets that once bustled with life, were now void of it. It was a sad sight, but that wasn¡¯t his reason for remaining on the walls when he had other duties to be attending to. The old dwarf perched himself upon the edge of the wall, letting his legs dangle freely. He retrieved a journal from his belongings and gave it a quick look over. It was of a simple make, the worn leather that bound it showing its age. Apart from the blemishes and scratches, there were no other markings on the outside. Grundolf opened the journal and began reading through it. He scratched his head after seeing the crude scribbles that covered the first page. Though they were in a language he knew well, the scribbles clearly showed the previous owner wasn¡¯t very literate. Grundolf wasn¡¯t fazed though, continuing on to read page after page. As he read on, the writing became more fluid and clear. It wasn¡¯t until he made it halfway through that the journal¡¯s owner had started dating his entries, but Grundolf barely noticed their absence. The words in the journal revived memories that he had long since forgotten. After reading the last entry, Gurndolf set the book down and looked over the ruined town with a solemn gaze. He chuckled softly as he spoke to no one in particular. ¡°Haha, I wonder how the townsfolk would react after hearing the town¡¯s name was the result of a simple spelling mistake. One day I¡¯ll be joining you, until then, rest well my old friend.¡± ¡­.. ¡°Oh schei?e!¡± ¡°Oh god, not again!¡± Hans and Jack screamed out as they were sent head first into the metallic ceiling. ¡°Wut? The¡­*hic*...you poor ba...bastards can¡¯t handle a...a...a¡­*hic*...few b..bumps?¡± The outsider¡¯s were currently riding through an almost endless field of snow. With Vasily¡ªwho had already had more than a few drinks¡ªat the wheel, the ride was not going smoothly. Normally one would avoid driving quickly over small bumps and hills, but Vasily had found that torturing the two extra passengers was quite amusing in his drunken stupor. Without seats to sit in, Hans and Jack had to find someway to endure the uncomfortable ride. A task that Vasily was not making easy for them. Zhukov sighed with his hand on his face as he watched the spectacle. It wasn¡¯t the sorry state that Hans and Jack were in that was getting to him though, instead it was an event that had occurred just before they left the town. Zhukov let his hand slide down his face as he recalled the event. It had occurred just after Sergei and a very drunk Vasily returned with the tank. Zhukov had been looking over the new plate that had been installed to cover the hole. Though he was slightly unsatisfied with the workmanship, it would have to do. The town didn¡¯t have any access to welding equipment like they would¡¯ve normally used to fix up such a hole, so they had to make do with shoddily attaching the plate to the chassis. It was then that Vasily had the bright idea of banging on the plate with a sledge to show how durable it would be. This, Zhukov didn¡¯t have a problem with, it was Vasily not holding on tightly to the sledge that had him worried. When the sledge connected with the plate, it was sent ricocheting out of his hands. While the others around dove for cover, Zhukov was too dumbfounded to move. The sledge that soared freely through the air had its journey abruptly shortened after connecting with Zhukov¡¯s body. The burly Russian fell to the ground clutching his stomach, but not before letting a stream of spittle spew from his mouth. Zhukov¡¯s agony didn¡¯t end there though, following up by emptying the contents of his stomach onto the ground, then falling face first into the newly formed puddle of bile. Vasily blinked rapidly, sobering up quickly after realizing the consequences of his actions. Instead of waiting for Zhukov to recover and extract his vengeance, Vasily hastily dove into the tank. He resurfaced with multiple bottles of alcohol in his arms, then leapt from the tank and ran off into the streets. Vasily didn¡¯t make it very far though, stopping after he dropped one of the bottles. A single tear slid down his cheek as he watched the liquid spill out from the broken bottle. ¡°Noooooooooo!¡± The outsiders who were standing nearby lowered their heads in unison, each one letting out an exasperated sigh. A few of them gave a quick glance over to Zhukov, who was still laying in his own puke, they decided against attempting to lend a hand¡ªin fear of further rousing his anger. Just as the spectacle was coming to a close, Grundolf popped over to check up on the outsiders. He raised a finger and was about to question why there was a man drowning in his own puke on the ground, but decided it would be better not to ask any questions. Rather, Grundolf decided to bring up another topic of interest. ¡°Say...about those weapons of yours. Would perhaps be willing to sell some of them to us?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think that-¡± ¡°Shush Igor, how much we talkin here my dear friend?¡± Igor attempted to refuse the deal, but Sergei jumped into the conversation before he could, his eyes were sparkling with greed. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll pay you for anything you¡¯re willing to part with, in gold of course.¡± ¡°Gold!¡± Sergei nearly started drooling at the dwarf¡¯s words. He quickly ran over to the tank and started stripping it of any weaponry that he felt they could do without, which was essentially anything they had looted since coming to this new world. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Grundolf¡¯s eyes went wide after seeing the pile of munitions, containing weapons from both the German and Italian militaries. He sorrowfully pulled a small pouch from his waist and opened it up. Though before he went to retrieve their payment, a sly looked flashed across his face as he was struck by an inspiration. ¡°Hmm, how¡¯s five gold coins for the whole lot sound?¡± Grundolf retrieved the shimmering coins from his pouch and held them up for the outsiders to see. They were around the same size as coins in their own world, perhaps just a bit larger. There was also the face of a pretty woman on the coin, one they couldn¡¯t recognize of course. Sergei¡¯s face went hard after seeing the coins. ¡°My friend, I feel we are on the losing end of this transaction. These weapons are deadlier than you could ever imagine. As such, I feel ten of those gold coins would only be fair¡­¡± The dwarf appeared to be distraught after hearing those words. He sighed and pulled out a couple more coins, though not enough to satisfy Sergei¡¯s request. ¡°I¡¯m afraid ten gold coins would simply be too many for this transaction. Not to mention, those weapons are simply extra baggage to you right now. So, how about seven?¡± Sergei grinned after seeing that his bargaining was working. He clapped his hands together and looked toward Grundolf with a crooked face. ¡°Look here my friend, I¡¯m even throwing in the ammunition for these weapons. You¡¯ll be able to use these firearms hundreds of times!¡± The Russian was trying to take advantage of the dwarf¡¯s lack of knowledge in the field, but he hadn¡¯t realized that it was Grundolf had already taken the reins. ¡°Tch fine, you got me lad. I¡¯ll pay you eight gold coins. No more, no less.¡± Sergei smiled gleefully as he took the money and left Grundolf with the pile of weaponry. He was pleased, thinking that he had been the one to get the most out of the deal. Yet it was the dwarf who could barely contain his happiness as he rounded up some of the locals to help him move his new toys. After the dwarf left, Sergei looked around mischievously before trying pocketing the money for himself. Though, under the intense gazes of his companions, he eventually broke. ¡°What? I¡¯m just holding on to it for now, there shouldn¡¯t be any issues with that, right?¡± After the deal Zhukov was eventually roused from the pile of his own misery, though not in a very gentle way. Yakov had poked him until he woke, using Zhukov¡¯s own rifle. Apparently without even bothering to check whether it was loaded or not. Though Zhukov wanted to immediately give chase to the drunk who had caused this entire mess, he decided against doing so. Not because he had forgiven him, but because he was still covered in last night¡¯s dinner. Also, he had a few questions about about the dwarf and villagers who were walking off with their weaponry. After Igor told him what had occurred, Zhukov¡¯s rage was once again ignited. ¡°First my greatcoat and now this!¡± ¡°W..w..wait, I...how did you¡­¡± Sergei began stuttering under pressure of Zhukov¡¯s fury, eventually giving up and trying to escape. Zhukov wasn¡¯t going to let another escape his vengeance today though, reaching out just in time to grab Sergei by the collar. Zhukov planned on just bashing his face in, but he was enlightened by a better, more devious, idea. He looked over to where the puddle of puke was and a smile crept over his face. ¡°Oh god, you wouldn¡¯t!?¡± Zhukov ignored the pleas and threw Sergei into the puddle, laughing maniacally as he listened to the screams of his victim. ¡°Oh...oh gawd. It¡¯s in my nose!¡± Feeling satisfied, Zhukov left to go find a place to wash off. ¡­.. Zhukov¡¯s memory ended there, the events that had transpired afterwards were forgettable. He let his hand slip from his face and let out another deep sigh. Sergei had sold the MG38, the Breda 30, and all the Carcano rifles¡ªalong with the ammunition. The worst part about it all, was that Zhukov had a sinking feeling the dwarf hadn¡¯t given them a fair price. From what the others were saying, Grundolf was more than willing to part with the money, despite having shown reluctance in the beginning. While Zhukov was grumbling about the transaction, Sergei was losing himself in some of the journals he had been collecting. One was from the German officer, the other from the man he¡¯d killed in the first village. Though he was unable to read either of them, the man in black¡¯s journal had a variety of intriguing sketches. Some appeared to be of plants, other of strange creatures he had never seen before. Such as a beast with the head of a lion, body of a goat, and some sort of snake for a tail. Another was some sort of demonic looking chicken, as ferocious as it appeared, Sergei couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. In the Sergei middle of looking through what was essentially a picture book, Vasily went full speed over yet another bump, sending the German¡¯s journal out of Sergei¡¯s lap and directly into Hans¡¯ head. Once Hans recovered from the painful blow, he started looking through the journal. Unlike Sergei, he was actually able to read the contents. Hans quickly skimmed through it, blatantly ignoring most of the man¡¯s life story. Eventually he came across the later entries, which were dated 1942. ¡°Vhat!? Hans shout startled most of the crew. They looked towards the German with confusion. ¡°The hell¡¯s wrong with you cabbage?¡± ¡°Zis entry, it is from 1942. How is zat possible?¡± The only one who understood what Hans was saying was Jack. ¡°What, 1942...that would be two years in the future¡­¡± ¡°The fuck, you too Jack? 1943 is the current year, that¡¯s one year in the past. Not two in the future you dumbfucks¡± ¡°Vhat, no no. Ze year is 1940. It is you who are confused.¡± Everyone went silent as they all came to the same realization.