He knew he wasn’t the first on the list of those who got a bit luckier than others. And he suspected he wouldn’t be the last. Rumor has it that somewhere here there is at least one volunteer from the competing project. And the volunteer isn’t simple— a psychopath with a mania for killing people like him with cold steel.
He sometimes dreamed of “the competitors,” and none of those dreams were pleasant.
And now, at last, the dreams begin to break into reality. Alas, the timing isn’t right for finding out whether the devil is as scary as they say. He had nothing left—no loyal soldiers, no strong fleet; not even the boots. Only what can’t be grabbed with hands remains: experience tempered by character, new skills and opportunities.