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DEMITRI
Dark clouds, heavy with snow, gather on the horizon. A deep roll of thunder and a flash of jagged, forked lightning in the distance foretells the impending sounds of war. Pushed directly toward us by a brutal Siberian squall, the saturated vapors move with malevolent intent. Harbingers of death, they bring darkness—and Mila.
Vedmak stands on the battlement, impatiently waiting for his mortal enemy to appear so he can slaughter her and her friends. Wind batters my body, the body he stole from me, but I can’t feel it at all. Not even a remnant. He paces back and forth, restless like a caged animal. He seems to be deep in thought but I have no connection to him, pushed back into the recesses of my own brain. Locked away where I can’t meddle.
This is the worst it’s ever been. The potency of this cocktail—his red mist the alchemist cooked up—is incredible. I’m so far away, a vignette of numbness permanently obscures the world. He has complete control now. Though I fought as hard as I could, it just wasn’t enough. He was one step ahead. He’s always one step ahead. And because I failed, everyone will die. Either by his hand, the hands of those he controls, or the VME.
Perhaps it’s the best course, to let him finish what he started; to let the universe collapse and finally rid itself of the disease that is the human race. We have brought nothing but death and destruction from the moment we appeared on the planet. Nature, mother Earth, Yeos—whatever force one believes in—has tried to cleanse the planet before with little success. Natural disasters, famines, plagues, all seemingly sent like Earth’s immune response to a virus. Only the NBD almost succeeded. Yet somehow, like cockroaches, we survived.
It begs the question: is Vedmak really the enemy? What if he was right all along and he’s the answer. Earth’s final cure. Better to shake the universe like a child’s magnetic drawing board and start over.
The demon spins on a dime again, trudging the worn path, ice crunching underfoot. In front of him, Husniya is fixed, splayed out, to the icy outcropping. A particularly violent gust whips sleet and her jet-black hair about her face. Little Husniya. Mutilated by my hand once already, and now this. Vedmak’s final insult to Mila. He hovers next to her for a moment, stroking her face with a gloved hand, apparently admiring his ingenious idea.
This is all my fault.
She is innocent, yet forced to be something she’s not to survive. Molded and bent out of shape simply for being born into a world she had no hand in creating. Suffering for the mistakes of our ancestors. She, all the children of Etyom, deserves a chance to make it better.
I can’t let this happen. I can’t let him win.
Mila will never be able to stop Vedmak, not with his little trick. But I can from the inside. I have to—it’s my responsibility. Evgeniy and Mila, they had faith in me and so far, I have failed miserably. Well no more.
Do you hear me, Vedmak? No more!
The monster cocks his head, as if listening to the storm speak his name, but then leaves Husniya and returns to his angry pacing. You heard me, you bastard. No stim works permanently. You told me once you can’t outrun your shadow, Vedmak. It’s true. I will defeat you, one way or another. Even if I must die doing it.
The Ripper battle, radiation poisoning, that Creed’s attack, sleep deprivation, and my own mental assault have driven him to the brink. This can be used to my advantage, if I can just break through. Perhaps... It’s cliché to suddenly feel the need to believe when everything comes apart at the seams. But what can it hurt?
Yeos, I don’t know if you’re real. Anastasia and Mila believe in you. Maybe I’ve been the one who is wrong all along. If you can hear me—prove me wrong. Show me you’re real. Give me the chance to stop Vedmak and save Mila and Husniya, and Anastasia and all the children of Etyom. Take me if you have to. Just allow humanity one more chance.
I focus, drawing what energy I can from the ether, my consciousness coalescing into an imaginary ball of light that sits at the center of my own body, ready to explode outward, destroy Vedmak, and finally reclaim the flesh.
Concentrate, Demitri.
Concentrate.
Ayúdame ...
What was that? Is someone there?
Ayúdame ... por favor ... ayúdame a rescatar a la niña,” a voice says from the void.
Margarida?
