This passage harks back to the assault on Complex 73. I lost the original text (thank you old hard drive). The Narrator and Kaśnyk find themselves unlikely partners as they both hunt for Barcza, the spec ops commander who commands the Night Rovfugl. Barcza was the brutal soldier who the Narrator's wife, Ida, who sought solace in the arms of another man while he toiled away in the mines. Her murder was at his hands. More below. To Kaśnyk, he is far more methodical. He is an asset that has jumped the rails and need reining in.

For reference, Kaśnyk is pronounced "cash - NIK" and Barcza is pronouced "bar - CHA".

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The fighting in the outer ring had thinned to scattered shots and the hiss of settling dust. I moved through the breach in the wall, bolt pistol raised, ribs aching from the fall earlier. Barcza had come this way; blood streaked the steps, dark against the concrete. A shape flickered at the edge of my vision. I swung left.

Kaśnyk stepped out from the opposite corridor, pistol already levelled. I froze. So did he. Two barrels aligned across six metres of ruin. Neither of us spoke. The air hummed with distant generators. Sand scraped along the firing slits. My pulse thudded in my teeth.

Then I heard it, wet, broken breathing somewhere deeper in the tower.

Kasnyk’s eyes flicked toward the sound. Mine did too. Neither of us lowered our weapons first. We just shifted, almost the same second, easing out of each other’s line of fire.

We moved without agreement. He took the right side of the corridor; I took the left. His steps were measured and precise. Mine were quicker, angling for the corners before he reached them. Two men hunting the same target for different reasons. The breathing grew louder.

We found Barcza slumped near a collapsed embrasure, armour scorched and split. A round had torn through his chest plate. He was still alive, though barely. His eyes tracked me as I stepped closer.

He didn’t reach for his weapon. He didn’t speak. He just waited.

I raised my pistol. I held it, the iron sights square over his forehead. I breathed out, then lowered it.

This wasn’t a battle. This was a man dying in the dirt, and killing him wouldn’t change a damned thing. I backed away, jaw tight, heat building behind my eyes. Kaśnyk watched me without expression.

I turned and started for the door

Behind me, Kaśnyk's voice followed calmly, measured, carrying the weight of doctrine rather than anger. “He showed you mercy. The Emperor does not forgive.”

I didn’t stop. I didn’t look back.

A single pistolcrack tore through the tower.

The sound hit me like a hammer blow to the spine. I flinched before I could stop myself, hand tightening around the grip of my weapon. Then silence. A long, cold silence.

I kept walking.