Yeger groaned, his vision hazy as he lay on the floor of the control room surrounded by black-coated soldiers. He could barely tell what hurt. The soldiers had thrashed him when they realised he was on no extracts. Along with the knife wound to his gut, it’d be a miracle if he lived long.
Unless he could get the phial of ironhide clenched in his fist uncapped and to his mouth with no one noticing…
A pair of boots strode across the room towards his face, and a figure crouched by his head. “Well,” a familiar feminine voice said. “The mighty Yeger Blinov.”
Yeger rolled his head sideways, staring up at the blurry figure of Zinaida Voronina. She removed her half-mask and grinned at him.
“Hello, yutzi mucker,” he said, blood gumming his mouth and muffling his words.
“Aww,” Voronina said, pouting. “That’s no way to greet family.”
“We’re not family,” Yeger said through clenched teeth.
“Sure I am! I never officially left the squad.”
“You’re insane if you think we’re family, murderer.”
“Oh, that’s not fair,” Voronina said, rocking back on her heels. “What was I supposed to do? You understand orders, don’t you, Yeger?”
“It’s Blinov to you.” His grip tightened around the phial. If only he could drink it…
“Well, you’re in luck, Yeger. Today you get to live!” Voronina stood. “See, we need to question you. Find out exactly what Klara and the rest of your little squad are up to. Think you can answer a few questions?”
Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
“Go rot in the depths.”
Voronina shook her head and clicked her tongue. “We’re already in the depths, Yeger, and it’s too cold for anything to rot here.”
Boom!
The deafening explosion ripped through the air. The tower shuddered and swayed. All around Yeger, Alchemist soldiers sprinted to the windows.
“What the depths is happening?” Voronina yelled, turning.
Attention off him, Yeger uncapped the phial as fast as he could and brought it to his lips—
—a boot slammed into his hand, knocking the phial away.
“Whoa, an extract? Sneaky!” Voronina said, grabbing his left arm around the bicep and hauling him to his feet, her strength-boosted fingers digging excruciatingly deep into his muscle. “The only extract you’re getting any time soon is truth extract.”
Yeger’s hearts sank, and for the first time that evening, fear’s icy hand clutched at his stomach, squeezing.
Suddenly, the floor lurched and tipped as the tower collapsed.
Voronina nearly ripped Yeger’s arm from its socket as they stumbled and speed extract allowed her to adjust her footing. She pulled him up the now slopped floor, angling for one of the open windows. “Don’t dawdle,” she said, her voice bright. “We don’t want you to die now, do we?”
As the tower shattered around them with a thunderous roar, Yeger let himself go limp. Carry a dead weight, mucker.
Voronina growled, staggering, her facade slipping and revealing the twisted anger buried below. Balance regained, she dragged him to a window and pulled out a grappling pistol. She fired into the sky.
For a moment, nothing. Voronina stood there, grappling pistol raised in one hand, the other nearly puncturing Yeger’s arm while the tower disintegrated around them.
Then his shoulder wrenched again. He howled as it dislocated as Voronina was jerked into the sky, hauled up by some invisible object.
Through blurry eyes he saw a dozen other figures zipping up through the midnight sky beside them.
A blinding light pierced the night from above. He looked away, squinting in the sudden brightness. Below, the tower crashed to the mountain, dirt and snow billowing around it. Try as he might, he couldn’t see his comrades. Had the tower collapsed on them?
Yeger tried to swallow, but couldn’t. His vision faded, blackness wrapping its arms around him and welcoming him into its inky embrace.

