Chapter CXI: Enduring Against Odds

 Swirling columns of smoke danced on the darkening grey sky over Meadow. The ever present crows and ravens stood over the old factory, not really improving the mood. A lone figure in a worn Interceptor body armour stood outside, staring at the first stars that emerged from the blackness of space. From the factory door, another figure appeared, travelling across the anomaly-riddled yard to the guard.

• Valik, you gotta come back inside, there's a psi-storm forecasted for tonight, the new arrival said to the stargazer.

• What does it matter, Dimuha? At least dying would save me from the dreams, Valik muttered quietly.

• Gleb is gone, and I know you wish it had been you, but he did not die so we would throw our lives away. We're barely functioning as it is, if we lose another veteran Redemption will crumble, Dimuha pleaded.

• Who cares? It was pure insanity anyway. We all joined because Boris touched our rotten souls, but in reality what could we have achieved? Redemption was always a pipe dream, something we could've pursued for years without pause, never reaching it. The second our leader disappeared, everyone forgot about us...

• And they will keep forgetting about us if we simply sit on our asses in the base, hunting tushkanos for lunch and raiding bandit vodka stores. I'm sick and tired of this, Valik, I lost friends too!

• Yours could still be alive, suka! Gleb is dead. Finished. All because we couldn't kill a fucking chimera.

• You blame yourself for nothing. Gleb knew what needed to be done. Gleb knew what was at stake, and he made his choice. So man up and stop sobbing like a teenager!, Dimuha shouted, no longer pleading, this time with steel in his voice.

Valik stood silent, lowering his gaze. He removed his Apocalypse helmet and looked at Dimuha, swollen, red eyes of a broken man meeting the iron look from a man determined to carry on his friend's legacy. Valik sighed, swept his eyes and put on his helmet once more. Dimuha had reminded him of the pact he and Gleb made before joining Redemption. His thoughts wandered back to that day, the dead ecologist with three holes in his chest, the smoking gun in Valik's hand, Gleb's horrified face. All he wanted to do was forget, but the bottom of a bottle did not help. Perhaps there was something to Redemption after all. Perhaps... Perhaps he had to give it a chance.

• Fine. I won't let you down. I wished I could end it all, but...

• But Gleb would not want that. Make the Hawk proud, be worthy of his sacrifice. I understand you better than anyone else here, Valik. Boris left me a huge responsibility, and I must carry it because I owe him that. Without his example and self-sacrifice, that of the rest of his squad too, my aunt in Kharkiv would be a shambling zombie, Dimuha said, his voice softening.

• I agree. And I apologize for losing myself, Valik replied, lowering his head.

• Do not. I want you on the leadership. Stepukha and Vova have already agreed, Leva and Toha have taken spots as sergeants. Will you be my lieutenant?

• I... I will. Thank you, Dimuha, you pulled me off the edge.

• And we will pull rest of Redemption as well. Let's get back inside, our faction needs its leaders!, Dimuha cheered, and for the first time since the disappearance of Boris' squad, he felt the situation improve. Perhaps Redemption would endure.

Far away, in a different plain of existence, one of whiteness and emptiness, a squad of men remained. They sat on the incredible ivory floor, slumped on their spots, staring ahead. Their helmets removed, the exhaustion and mental stress visible on their faces. One of them groaned and looked at the others.

• Do you seriously not have any more cigs left?

• For the millionth time, Dima, no. Shut the fuck up, I'm trying to sleep, a man in Sunset suit growled.

• Well nobody asked the medic, you're almost as bad as Stitch, Vityukha, always going on about how unhealthy smoking is, like we're some kindergardeners, Dima retorted.

• You kind of are..., a man in Duty Skat-suit commented, his grey eyes dancing with amusement.

• Out of all the people on the planet I had to get stuck into a space anomaly with a Duty captain. Why couldn't it be like Salma Hayek or someone else?

• Tell me about it Sanyok, Orlov's long face isn't the most pleasant thing to look at each day, Dima said mockingly.

• Hey, you're no Adonis yourself, scrawny boy, Orlov retaliated, receiving faint laughs from the others.

• For the love of God will you shut up already, only thing keeping me sane in this hellhole is a good night's sleep and you lot keep stealing it from me with the whining, Vityukha complained.

• Not our fault you need 18 hours of beauty sleep every day, it clearly isn't working so it's not even beneficial, Orlov said with a grin, prompting Dima to laugh as well.

The banter continued, but the final member of the group remained silent. Boris looked in front of him, thinking of all the things he had survived before. Eidolon, bandit slave camp, hunting down his torturer, the destruction of Duga. It was not the time to give up. Time moved differently here, and they had plenty of supplies still. Someone would come for them. Someone had to. Boris took out a can of tuna and begun to eat. Somebody would come for them, he thought, somebody would. His hope would endure.