Konrad had the most unsettling dream.
He chased Strelok through hordes of zombies, but even with magic, he couldn't catch him.
He returned to Kasserlane empty-handed, and—
All his friends were dead.
Deceased. Unmoving. Halfway buried in their graves, and yet—
They still looked disappointed and judgmental.
Heck, the dead Lily even broke up with him. She whispered something like 'Nimrod would have been better,' and he took a lot of emotional damage.
So when he finally awoke, and the pain was gone—
He flew out of his bed faster than a supersonic jet.
The living quarters were empty. In the lab, he only found an old dude.
The fourth scientist, he knew existed, but never once spoke to.
A man with a non-existent hairline and tiny, round spectacles. Almost too stereotypical.
"Ah, hello? Hello," he said, pushing them up his nose. "Was the operation successful?"
"Yeah, um, but where are the others?" Konrad demanded. "Where is Strelok?!"
"Strelok? Strelok. That balding fellow?" the scientist asked, as if he was one to talk.
He didn't know his name, but he had a nametag.
In all-cyrillic. Crap.
"Lots of things happened while you were out," the man said with a smile. Not one speck of hurry in his speech. "Hermann finished the prototype dampener, and—"
"That's great, but what does it have to do with Strelok?!"
The scientist sighed, furrowing his brows.
"I was about to get there, boy," he claimed. "Your Strelok took that prototype and disabled the substation emitting those nasty psy—"
"W-wait, he's gone?!" Konrad interrupted him again.
The pictures of his nightmare flashed before his eyes.
"He was gone for half a day, then he came back," Spectacles said, unhurried.
Thank the spirits. But where was he, though?
And how long was he out?!
"Hermann and Sakharov finetuned the prototype again, so he could set out to disable the Duga as well." The scientist said next. "Because all the psy emissions originate from there, as it seems."
Konrad blinked.
"So, is he here or not?" he mumbled, getting confused.
"No," the old man shook his head. "Not right now. You missed him by an hour. But he'll be back."
Shit. That dream started to feel very real.
"And the rest?!" Konrad demanded. "I had a friend here in a military uniform. And those three."
"Was about to say they're out and about," Spectacles claimed. "Even with the emissions gone, the zombies are still here, so they're taking care of that issue now."
And as if to confirm his words, there was an unmistakable, thunderous bang.
Faint, dampened by the walls, it had to be the Gepard.
"I'll help them," Konrad said, leaving that slowpoke behind.
And grabbed his gear from the living quarters—
Meaning his bulletproof vest with more holes than fabric, and his machete.
Damn right. He lost another expensive Swiss rifle and couldn't see his artifacts, either.
But his PDA showed the number five, with a matching amount of dots nearby.
They had to be Dmitry and the four scientists.
No sign of Strelok.
Well, he knew where he was heading now. He could catch up, and—
The outer airlock opened with a loud creak.
First, the decontamination unit hissed, then Dmitry entered with a big gun and a bigger grin.
The scientists followed, wearing some military gear.
Their space suits from earlier were all gone.
"Of course, we'd cover your expenses," Hermann courted the Captain. "Ammo, food, whatever you need. But we could use a good shot like you, even after the zombies are gone."
Oh no. Konrad was about to protest, but he didn't have to.
"It's tempting," Dmitry said, but shook his head. "But even if I came here to uncover the Zone's secrets, I'll have to go back to my post soon. I'll wait until Strelok returns, and then—"
"Look who's awake," Corporal Sokolov greeted him, obstructing his view.
He looked Konrad over from every angle, once he put his shotgun down.
The barrel was still smoking. They were out on a hunt.
"Any pain? Do you feel jolts while moving?" he asked, turning him around. "I should've gotten every bullet, but you never know. And thanks to the Meat, I didn't even leave marks."
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Konrad claimed, trying to push him away. "But I wanted to talk with—"
"Man, still, this Strelok guy's no joke," Dmitry's voice gave him a pause. "He has balls of steel to enter a den of zombies alone and disable that transmitter. With a prototype dampener, no less."
"Excuse me?" Sakharov puffed his chest. "He was in no danger after our latest finetune."
"Oh, right," the Captain smirked. "Because that earlier near-disaster doesn't count."
"Science is not to find the answers right away, but the road of discovery," Hermann claimed.
They were all in a good mood.
"And now that we adjusted the psy shield by his latest input, it'll withstand even the Duga itself."
So he actually went there.
Konrad finally pushed Sokolov away, hellbent on interrupting them.
"I want to go after him," he said. "We must talk and—he might need my help, too."
Something to make it look less selfish a demand and more like a service he offered.
"Oh, you're awake?" Sakharov noted, but they've been through this already. "Actually, I still can't believe you survived those emissions without any protection. But the measurements we took—"
"Yeah, without those, we could have never finished the prototype," Hermann joined in.
And that was all good, but it didn't bring him closer to Strelok.
"Can I have the finished product, then?" he asked, pushing harder. "So I can help even more."
That gave them a pause.
"Ah. Well. The thing is—we only had that one."
Of fucking course they did.
"We wanted to hold out on mass production until we got positive results," Sakharov said. "We don't have endless resources out here, and to be honest—"
"If Strelok disables the source, we won't need them anyway," Hermann pointed out.
Didn't they put too much trust in one single guy?!
"Hey, it's okay," Dmitry pitched in. "He said he'd come back once he's done."
"Right," Konrad grunted, staring him down. "You were here all along, and you didn't stop him?!"
Or did he already forget why they came to the Zone in the first place?
"I told him to wait for you, but I wasn't sure what else to say—"
Ugh. That earlier dream kept haunting him. It started to look way too real.
"How long until you could whip up another prototype?" Konrad asked with a sigh, turning to the scientists again. "I would of course pay for the materials and your work, too."
Hermann didn't answer right away, pondering for a moment.
"Well, now that we have the exact parameters, it'd only take a few hours," he said. "But unless you can teleport the materials here, you'd have to wait a few days for the shipping."
Fuck. And he could have done that, too.
Before the Blowout. Damn it.
But the fourth scientist cleared his throat, making a suggestion.
"We don't have to wait that long. I mean, that Strelok fellow disabled the nearby substation. So if he went down there, he could find all the stuff they built that thing from."
"Well, that's true, but it's not safe," Sakharov noted. "He said it was full of feral zombies."
"I'll take my chances," Konrad yelled, his eyes lighting up.
But couldn't help the question.
"What's a feral zombie anyway?"