Ви Корс
The Mist and the Lightning. Part 12

“I live the life of those whom I paint…”

Nadya Rusheva

Chapter one

In the Fort

Following an elaborate plan of Lis, they managed to capture the Fort.

Lis with Karina and Nikto descended the steep steps into the dungeon of the main tower.

“You can faster!” Lis was in a hurry and swore at Nikto in red and black at the same time.

-“No! I can’t!” Nikto swore too, only in unclean – he tried to go down the narrow steps of the stairs, and he did very badly.

“In short, come on sharper, eh?”

“Ladders are not what I like! Especially if downstairs!”

Lis held out his hand:

“Do I have to drag you on me?!”

“Damn, I’m coming!”

They went down to the dungeon of the Fort, and Niktosaw the Portal. Near it, the black mercenaries of Kors held the commander of the garrison. This red tried toescape, but didn’t have time.

“Sigmer, let me go!” He cried in despair when he saw Lis. “For our past friendship! You were sitting at my table! Sigmer! I treated you like an honored guest, we shared bread together, drank wine!”

Lis, as if not hearing his words, came up and silently punched his former friend in the jaw. The red fell to the floor, blood flowed from his smashed mouth. The black ones raised him again, holding him on bothsides: tightly bound, he couldn’t even move. The commander glanced at Lis with hatred and spat on the floor with his broken teeth along with blood.

Lis turned to Nikto:

“Is he suitable for the unclean? Can we trade him for Marcus? Or is he too old?”

“It will do,” said Nikto. “He is educated, it will come in handy.”

“Good!” Lis was delighted.

And at that moment, the floor under their feet vibrated, and the Portal opened like a door. They saw a very bright blue sky, brown rocks covered with tufts of hanging emerald green vines, and a beautiful city in the distance. The domed roofs gleamed like gold. Multi-colored: yellow, orange, red, purple – twisted spiers of the towers aimed upward. Everyone froze.

“What is it?” Karina whispered.

“It looks like this is the city of the reds in the Upper World,” Nikto said. “This is the Upper World.”

“He wanted to escape to the Upper World?” Lis was surprised.

“Apparently, yes.”

“How beautiful!” Admired Karina. She admired the picturesque landscape and city.

Lis narrowed his eyes slightly:

“Is this the Upper World? My eyes will burst now, how bright everything is! It’s like I took acid!”

The portal closed smoothly and silently. Nikto began to look at him, something was drawn on the floor, indicated by strange symbols and signs that he didn’t understand.

“What a strange Port they have,” he said thoughtfully, “it is as if the main points where you can get are already set. These are all red cities. It is tuned in, focused on them. Well, how can I orient it to my Limit?”

“Deal with it, Nik,” said Lis impatiently. “I need Marcus.”

“Your Marcus can wait! I don’t understand anything! Here you need to demolish all these settings, reset them to zero first. Oh!”

“Nik, figure it out!”

“Then all get out of here!”

Verniy took the most luxurious apartments of the commander of the garrison for his master, and Lis with Karina and Vitor Kors settled down nearby, occupying no less rich rooms of his associates.

Lis placed in front of Karina a beautiful fur vest made from the skins of fluffy white foxes living by the North Sea. Karina, seeing the fur, laughed happily. Lis smiled a little shyly at her too:

“Here, take it,” he put on top a large box full of precious jewelry.

Karina took earrings with teardrop-shaped mother-of-pearls:

“Do you think they will match my dark hair? Will it be beautiful?”

“Yes. Very beautiful.”

She embraced him impulsively:

“Thank you! Thank you! I love you so much! There's such a great bathroom here! And hot water! As soon as I climb in there, I will never get out!”

Lis smiled contentedly:

“Choose some piece of jewelry as a present for Anya. She fought very bravely.”

“What?!”

“Karina…” Lis’ voice became icy, “There’s a plenty here. Don't be a bitch and give something to Anya!”

Tears gushed from Karina's eyes:

“I'm not a bitch!”

“Then don't act like that!”

“Take it! Give her everything!” Karina threw the box at him.

“You will get lit up now! I am not kidding!” Lis raised his hand, and Karina, quickly dodging, jumped back.

“I'll go and take Anya and fuck her in all the holes in front of your eyes! Do you want it? Since you regret the fucking ring or chain for her, I will reward her in my own way, she will like it! She will brag to everyone about how the commander fucked her, and his stupid chick looked at it and cried!”

Karina’s face twisted in horror:

“I won’t forgive you!”

“And what will you do? Will you run to Nija?”

Karina, realizing that the situation was getting out of control, rushed to the box. With trembling hands, she grabbed the first gold chain with a pendant that came across and held out to Lis:

“Here, take it, please. Forgive me. I don’t mind anything, you misunderstood a little…”

Lis didn’t take the decoration:

“Then we'll talk. Nik is waiting for me. Take your bath.”

He went down the stairs to the living room.

“I opened the Port,” Nikto said.

“Should I go with you?”

“Well no…”

“If you need me, I'll go.”

“Do you want?”

“Of course not!”

“Then stay. I'll do everything with Verniy.”

“Thank you.”

“Tell me, besides the commander of the garrison, did you choose two more?”

“No. Take from the prisoners whoever you see fit. You know better which reds your unclean… friends will like. For breeding or for fucking. I don’t know what for.”

“Okay,” said Nikto, “for breeding they need purebred red.”

“They screwed up with me and Aika, right?”

“I told Javarg and Nurkh that you are not a purebred red, they didn’t believe. You thought I was just cheating because I didn't want to sell you.”

Lis at these words of Nikto looked at him like that:

“Is it possible not to pronounce these names?”

“Lis! I wasn't going to sell you!”

“Let's never bring this up again!”

“Fuck, you yourself constantly raise it.”

“Because it weighs on me that the unclean now have my child!”

“Really? Let me take her. She has dark hair and doesn't look like red at all. She is not suitable for breeding.”

“She? Is that a girl?”

“Yes. Apparently, she looks like your mother. Was your mother a purebred black?”

“Yes. But an ordinary commoner.”

“So what? Should I pick her up now too? Together with Marcus?”

“And what will I do with the child?”

“I have no idea. Let Karina take care of her.”

“Are you kidding?!”

Nikto smiled:

“Yes.”

“She'll fuck up if I bring her a child.”

“But it ‘weights on you’.”

“Okay, if everything is all right with her, let her stay for now. I'll decide later.”

“They are doing well with Aika.”

“Bring me only Marcus then.”

“Agreed,” said Nikto, “I also want to take some red ones to the Limit. Reds are rare, expensive slaves. The unclean ones have very few of them.”

“Is that why they are trying to breed them?”

“Yes.”

Nikto turned to Arel, who was standing next to him, his face lit up:

“I have the rarest and most expensive. Which no one else has!”

Due to the fact that Arel participated in hostilities, he was freed from all the attributes of a slave. He was not wearing an uncomfortable collar and the nose ring that got in his way. He could speak.

“Arel, you will stay here with Lis and wait for me. Lis is your master in my absence. Obey him!”

Arel glanced quickly at Nikto with undisguised excitement.

“Don't worry so much,” Nikto chuckled, “I'll be back very soon. Not a whole hour will pass in your world.”He patted the prince like a dog on the top of his head, stroked his completely disheveled braid:

“Arel, is that all? There’s February in your eyes, have you lost your mom? Don’t spoil my blood with your suffering.”

When Nikto and Verniy left, Lis looked at Arel, standing in complete confusion, and even some pity flashed in his gaze:

“You can sit on a chair.”

Arel, silently, apparently, the habit of being deprived of the opportunity to speak all the time, sat down at the table. Lis poured him some wine and placed a bottle next to him:

“You can drink. That’s your favorite.”

But Arel didn't want to.

After a while, Kors came down to them, he greeted Lis.

“Yeah, the Reds lived here on a grand scale,” Kors remarked contentedly. “I really liked the rooms! There are so many antiques.”

“Sit down, Kors,” Lis gestured to a chair. “Have a drink with us.”

Kors sat down and poured himself wine into a beautiful crystal glass:

“And their wine is very good.”

“Yes,” agreed Lis. “They make everything generally better than blacks.”

Kors grimaced in displeasure, clearly not wanting to continue this non-patriotic theme, and asked:

“Where is Karina?”

“Just like you, he enjoys a chic environment. She’s taking a bath, it seems. There is running water and warm water here.”

“Yes. I also took advantage of this. That’s very comfortable!”

“Women do it longer, you probably know.”

“Of course. Let her put herself in order.”

They were silent for a while, and Kors, while resting, drank wine with pleasure.

“Are you going to gather everyone in the courtyard on the square?” He finally asked Lis.

“I will, a little later. I want to wait for Nik and then gather everyone. There’s no rush, let them come to their senses too.”

“They will collect the corpses…”

“Yes,” the face of Lis didn’t reflect a single drop of pity for the dead.

Kors handed him his glass:

“For the victory, Alis!”

Lis smiled rather indifferently, he was not at all euphoric that they had captured the Fort. And so much time and effort was spent on preparation, so much excitement and hardship endured. But he still held out his cup to Kors, and only Prince Arel didn’t participate in their conversation and didn’t raise his goblet.

“You seem to be not very happy?” Remarked Kors.

“No, I'm glad,” Lis disagreed. “Kors, I'm not a boy to jump for joy, and this is not my first victory. I have had many other victories. I'm used to it.”

Kors studied him carefully.

“I am thinking now about Karina, about my daughter. Why did she fall in love with you?”

“Well?”

“And I can even understand her to some extent,” said Kors. “You are not stupid, you are cunning. Without a doubt, there is some charisma in you. And this all together makes you interesting, despite the appearance.”

Lis who drank the wine literally choked:

“Here it begins…” he drawled.

“Sorry, Alis, but you are dirty, infinitely dirty. Unfortunately, you have combined the most unrepresentative features of both races. The ugliest combination I've ever seen, and believe me, I've seen a lot of reds and their half-bloods,” Kors raised his glass of dark red wine and looked thoughtfully at Lis through the glass. “Red hair often has a burgundy shade, it's beautiful, like the color of expensive wine, your hair is lighter. Your eyes are not as beautiful as they should be. I will not say anything about the nose. Surely it has been restored countless times and inaccurately, because I see, in addition to the scar on the bridge of the nose, there is generally a curvature. But, however, your dirty appearance doesn’t surprise me, because your mother was a whore, and before your red father conceived you, at least a hundred peasants and soldiers had already cum into her. How couldsomething worthy appear from this cesspool?”

“What?!” Lis looked at Kors with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t fully understand what he had just said. “Don't you dare insult my mother!” Finally, he barely squeezed out of himself.

“As a noble sir, I have the right to do so – your mother is a commoner and a whore!”

“Shut up! Have you overdrank wine or something?”

“It is noble that you protect her, though not very fiercely, rather, within the bounds of decency. After all, you yourself understand everything, but…” Kors threw up his hands, “you observe the norms of behavior, this is normal, Alis, and moreover, this is correct.”

“I am sick of your arguments about the nobility and purity of blood! You consider me a subhuman, but why did you breed a half-blood yourself? Karina is a half-blood just like me!”

“Her mother was a virgin, and Karina absorbed the best of the features of the Supreme White and noble Black race.”

“And what about Nik then? Why so bad? Why hasn't he absorbed the best?”

“He has perfect facial features!”

“Noble sirs are taller, and he is a march! What would you do? Killed him without thinking? Got rid of tribalflaw?”

“He is not a march, and you know that very well, all his flaws are marks of the Devil. And he is shorter in stature because of poor living conditions, he simply didn’t have enough resources to grow tall. He survived.”

“So your half-blood children are noble, and I am not? My father is a noble member of the Superior Race of the Reds!”

“Yes, but there is nothing of him in you, since your mother was a commoner, polluted before him by a hundred other commoners of the same kind.”

“Ah well! Well, look what we dirty commoners will do with you noble sirs!” Lis got up abruptly and, going up to Arel, began to unbutton his fly, Arel shrank in fear, glancing at him from under his brows. Lis dipped his budding cock in his goblet of wine:

“Do you like sweet wine, Arel? Take a sip, suck on the sweet wine.”

And Lis forcibly opened Arel’s mouth with his fingers, pushing the head of his cock inside. Arel, without raising his eyes, took Lis’ cock. Lis turned to Kors, who winced as if in pain as he looked at it.

“This is what we, dirty, wrong and conceived in garbage dumps, will do with you, purebred elite. Look, Kors! See?”

Holding the back of Arel’s head, Lis pushed Arel several times with his cock in the inner part of the cheek, so that Kors could clearly see these pushes. Then Lis pulled out his cock and hit Arel lightly with his hand, slapping him in the face. Arel endured everything in silence, his hair was dispersed, hiding his face, he bent down to the tabletop, allowing Lis to demonstrate his superiority. Lis jerked off his cock, sprinkling a little into Arel’s goblet, and walked away from him.

“Drink!” He ordered. “Drink, true black!”

But Kors, getting up from his seat, walked over to Arel and, pulling the goblet out of his hand, threw the contents onto the floor. Then he took Arel by the forearm, forcing him to stand up, and led him along.

“Arel is ill, he has problems with his head,” he said, and sat the prince next to him.

“Doesn’t he has problems with his head, because his ancestors too closely followed the purity of blood and mated with each other until they degenerated? You are obsessed with nobility and appearance, like all blacks, and I don't care, Kors! I have the wrong hair, the wrong eyes, and the scars too, you can’t figure out how your daughter could love such a freak?”

“No, I can. I told you that you are smart, cunning and quite intelligent.”

“Really? What an honor to hear such praise from a noble black! I led armies, Kors, which you never dreamed of. Well of course I'm pretty smart, thanks for noticing! I am a thousand times higher in rank than you! And I, unlike other people, many times went very far beyond the line and always returned. I took “black water” and jumped off, I was in the Unclean Limitswith Nikto, and I kept my sanity, unlike Arel, who disappeared. The Demon chose me to make king, not you! I wonder why he chose such a filthy half-blood? Not one of you?”

“Yes, your mental abilities are worthy of respect, undoubtedly, and you are fighting very bravely, I don’t argue, and therefore I don’t interfere with your communication with my daughter.”

“Thank you, father! Can I call you father?” And seeing how Kors’ face was distorted, Lis smiled with satisfaction:

“End your ravings about the superiority of true blacks, this is the last time I listened to all this shit.”

“But you should start behaving more decently, Alis! This is killing me! The way you move sharply, constantly smoke, how you freak out and swear with obscene words. You're going to be king. On the throne, will you behave like that too? When they report to you something not very pleasant, you will also twitch, grab a cigarette and say: “Fuck, motherfuckers, what the fuck?”

Lis laughed.

“I can look and speak noble, don’t you believe?”

And at that moment Nikto entered the room.

Then, in the Limit, Nikto nevertheless went to meet Lis and agreed with the unclean masters of Marcus to give him on bail. He handed over his two slaves to the unclean for a while, with an agreement that Lis would soon give three red warriors for Marcus, and then the unclean ones would return the girls and take the red ones. And Marcus would be completely at the disposal of Nikto and Lis. Nikto took Marcus from his World, where time was running too slowly, and sent him to Amba’s house in the unclean district of the Black City. There, in a small basement closet, in darkness and loneliness, chained so that he couldn’t harm himself, barely able to move from a thin straw mat that served as his bed to a hole in the floor to meet his natural needs, on a meager ration, Marcus spent all this time, waiting for his fate to be decided. And now Nikto led him into the room on a chain. Marcus was completely naked. Naked, trembling, shaved bald, he moved on all fours, as befits a Demon’s slave. And he was wearing the attributes of slaves: gloves with heavy bracelets screwed on his wrists, a wide iron collar with a chain, and a mask closed with a lock at the back of his head.

But Lis recognized him right away. Maybe because he saw him crawling in the same way, unable to stand up to his full height, in a low cage near Marg.

“Marcus!” He said happily, quickly approaching them. He couldn’t see Marcus's face and his eyes, because the slits in the mask were literally a couple of millimeters wide. “Marcus! Do you remember me?”

“Answer me,” Nikto ordered.

And Marcus answered, barely audible, with fear in his voice:

“Yes, my master, I remember you. You are a warrior, a commander.”

“Yes,” Lis wrinkled his forehead. “He’s broken. You broke him, Nik.”

Nikto just snorted:

“He’s a slave.”

“Take off his mask.”

Nikto took out the key, unbuttoned the lock, removing the slave mask from Marcus. Marcus didn’t look up, the shameful tattoo was still prominent on his haggard face. And Kors, seeing what was painted on Marcus’ cheek, widened his eyes.

“Here,” Nikto said, “your boy is fine. He was no longer disfigured as you feared,” he handed the chain to Lis. “Hold on, play, I don't really understand why you need it, and even for such a price, but if you want so much…”

Lis looked at Marcus, and his face was no longer happy:

“Couldn’t you have treated him more carefully?”

“He is alive, Lis, he is a slave. What more do you want from me now? I didn’t touch him! He was not beaten or fucked! They kept him in a shackle just so that he would not lay hands on himself, and he was waiting for you.”

“Like a toy in a box,” Lis said quietly.

“What?”

“Thank you, sir. Thanks for this gift.”

Nikto grinned, content:

“Like this.”

The three of them looked at Marcus, because his too realistic, in the smallest detail, tattoo involuntarily attracted the eye, even if there was no desire to look at it. The cock was like a real one, and his head seemed to be pressed against the corner of Marcus’ lips. And Marcus, apparently realizing what they were looking at, shrank even tighter, his eyes filled with tears – to be sure, the unclean ones made fun of him. And its former owner clearly had some sense of humor.

“Can this be removed?” Lis finally asked.

“What for? In my opinion, it's beautiful,” Nikto answered, barely holding back a laugh.

“He is a scientist!”

“And what will he study here?”

“He studies the flora and fauna of our world.”

“What's this? Can he stir up drugs?

“Flora are plants and fauna are animals,” Kors interjected with an explanation.

“So what? Will he study animals?”

“And were they caught? Have you got the bear?” Kors asked.

“Yes,” Nikto nodded. “The unclean ones caught everyone, and put them in cages again. The unclean ones easily found them, they seem to smell them.”

“Well, that's understandable,” said Kors.

“So what are you going to do with the bear?” Nikto continued, looking at Lis. “Why study it? To train? If it doesn’t work out with the throne, will you be a wandering artist, driving around cities with a trained bear? Will you arrange performances?”

Nikto looked at Lis with a grin, expecting his reaction, and he froze for a second, trying to cope with it, and then answered calmly:

“Yes, of course, I will lose the army, I will command the bear. I'll paint my face like a jester, I'm no stranger, and I'll be a wandering artist. Can you borrow a bell into the nose?”

“Lis…” Nikto hesitated. “If we don’t win, it seems to be useful to me. Excuse me for screwing you up.”

“It's all right,” said Lis.

Kors looked at them very seriously: both Lis and Nikto looked somehow unkempt, tortured. Lis was a little over thirty, and Nikto was even less, but the expression of their faces… Both of them were very scarred, broken, it was clear that they had gone through a lot – with a clear imprint of fatigue, they evoked ambiguous feelings. Lis would probably say they looked fucked up. Kors thought that this obscene word, unfortunately, fit perfectly there. He himself, although he was older, but his tongue didn’t turn to say that he “could be their father” – so impeccable Kors looked, well-groomed, taking care of himself and his appearance, a worthy representative of the true black race. A beautiful, clean face, without a single scar. The prideful posture of the born master was complemented by obviously tastefully selected expensive clothes.

“What kind of mood are you in?” He said. “If we don’t win… but what should I do then?”

“You will teach the bear decency,” Lis smiled sadly.

“It would be better if you take less of your… hmmm… “restoratives” and alcohol, it's scary to look at you.”

“Kors, I said to teach the bear, not us!” Lis coughed.

“Alis, are you sick? What happened to you? Do you have tuberculosis?”

Lis looked up at him gloomily, and this look explained everything without words.

Kors’ face twisted.

“I suspected all this time, but didn’t want to believe. This cough of yours… what's with Karina?!”

“Nik said, I can't infect anyone yet. And he will heal me. So fuck off.”

“He should have cured himself for a start! I'll talk to my doctor, find some good medicines for you!”

“He cannot be given medicine,” Nikto intervened, “then bleeding will begin in the stomach so much that you cannot stop it.”

“Yes…” Kors could hardly restrain himself from cursing. “What's with the stomach?”

“That's really fucked up there,” said Nikto.

“And hepatitis? It too?”

“What's this? Kors, you just throw in the names of diseases, I don't know the names, especially in black,” said Nikto displeased.

“This is what you and the prince had. I cured Arel in the Prison Hospital.”

“I seem to have infected him again,” Nikto said. “If you mean it.”

“I don’t have it,” said Lis. “I always use only my syringe, and I don't give it to anyone.”

“I injected Arel with my syringe,” said Nikto.

“Are you crazy?” Kors looked at him with undisguised horror.

“I’ll cure everyone. What are you afraid of? You're not going to inject yourself with my syringe. Otherwise, you will not get infected, only through blood.”

“Do you think I'll take drugs with you?”

“Yes.”

“Demon, are yourself?”

“Not really,” Nikto laughed. “Not myself. I am in your son.”

“Damn, I am now afraid to sit next to you! What was I just thinking about!”

“Kors, don't be silly. Lis is not contagious. And Karina. Only through a syringe can you get infected from me, and even then I'm not sure. Don't bitch out so openly.”

“This is not fear, but common sense.”

“I'll cure everyone. You are behaving like a child!”

“Although…” Kors thought. “There is some logic in this, you are a Demon. Dead people, dangerous addictions. It's not for you to grow flowers, in fact…”

Nikto looked at Marcus, who was still kneeling in front of them, and it was clear that he couldn’t bear it all, hear all this, and he was completely crushed and disoriented.

“By the way! This fauna,” said Nikto, “is it all kinds of plants? And the mushrooms? Can he grow mushrooms?”

“Fuck you mushrooms!” Lis remarked irritably.

“Fooljumpers.”

“Nik, take off his gloves.”

“He’s a slave.”

“Nik, he can't make drugs with gloves!”

“He can't do them anyway!” Nikto grunted.

“He will make gunpowder, he will read the books of the reds, figure out the proportions and make us gunpowder and all sorts of fiery lighters that explode.”

“What?”

“What you have heard!”

“Is it flora or fauna?”

“Free him! I need him for the war!”

Kors looked at Lis with some respect.

“Let him do it first,” Nikto remarked skeptically.

“Why are you such noble sirs and Higher Powers, motherfuckers! You demand the devil knows what, but you only limit yourself! You are surprised that everyone except you is so stupid, and you don’t allow yourself to develop. He is a simple man, let him breathe freely, support, and don’t interfere! And you will get a hundred times more!”

“Lis, he doesn’t want to do anything, doesn’t want to make you gunpowder, weapons, he is not grateful to you. He wants to commit suicide as soon as you leave him alone. It’s always the same! Tie him up, that’s my advice to you. Put on the mask, handcuffs, fix, so that he doesn’t injure himself. Don't repeat my mistakes. Call Arel, Arel knows how to handle slaves. He will train him in a couple of lessons. Give him unbearable pain. He must understand that he cannot commit suicide, he cannot die. And he has only two choices: either endure unbearable torment, or obey unquestioningly, and then his life will become a little better.”

Lis was silent:

“I'll figure it out myself,” he said finally. :Gather your unclean ones better in the square.”

“Okay.”

Lis turned to Arel:

“Prince Arel, will you make a speech?”

“And to whom should I speak it?” Arel said. And despite all the horror of his position, his completely slave existence in the cruel hands of Nikto-Demon, in Arel’ voice one could still very clearly hear, albeit quiet, but some kind of patronizing intonation, the way he seemed to lazy stretch out the words a little. The intonations of a born lord, prince, characteristic of a person accustomed to order, command, dispose. And it was hard to say how much time and humiliation it would take for them to disappear, and whether it would ever happen.

“To whom should I make a speech?” He repeated. “Before the unclean? Congratulate them on their victory after seeing me naked and crawling on my knees at the feet of their White Lord? I was exactly like Marcus now. Or praise the noble black of Kors for their bravery? This would be very appropriate, especially considering that for them I am a fallen prince, a painted hole. Ah-ah, you probably mean my people, my peasant militias? How many were there? More than two hundred, and they fought bravely. And who should I congratulate? They all died.”

“Not all,” Lis replied quietly. “About ten left.”

“That's lovely! I don't have people anymore, Lis. You made warriors out of my peasants. And now there are no warriors or peasants. The land is not cultivated and there will be no harvest. Those remaining in the Estate will starve to death. You have robbed me of all my subjects. You, Lis, threw my people into the red meat grinder.”

“What was left for me? To send there the noble black Kors?”

“I don’t know,” Arel shrugged, “you are a genius of strategy. Not me.”

“Forgive me, prince,” said Lis seriously. “Sorry, nothing personal.”

Arel looked at him indifferently:

“I don’t care. Spit on it. Lis, don't bother yourself.”

“Lis used the tactics of reds,” said Kors. “Reds worship fire, for them people are like matches. And people are still not matches to burn with boxes! I was against it from the very beginning!”

And Lis couldn’t resist:

“What is it! Whatever I do, I will never be your equal! You treat me like shit! The demon perceives me as shit, Kors is true black, you perceive me as shit, aren’t you nuts?! I do everything! And thanks to my plan, you are here! Do it better! Why didn't you do?! You enjoy the fruits of my labor, bathe in warm baths and shit on my head!”

“I don’t shit on your head,” Nikto said.

“And I too,” Kors didn’t keep himself waiting, “we are grateful to you.”

“Fuck you!”

“Lis, I will order everyone to gather in the square so that you, our most important and beloved military leader, congratulate everyone on the victory. Yes?” Nikto asked.

“Yes!” Lis snapped. “Gather them. I’ll take Marcus off and come.” He pulled the chain:

“Marcus, get up and follow me.”

“Tie him! And put on a mask,” Nikto shouted after him, but Lis didn’t answer and didn’t turn around.

“We're going downstairs,” Nikto said when Lis left. “We need to call Karina. Valene! Call Karina, quickly.”

And Valentine rushed to carry out, but either he was still poorly oriented in the new environment, or he was in a great hurry, when suddenly, not fitting into the doorway, he bumped into the doorframe, hitting it at full speed. Only the muzzle rang. Valentine was literally knocked over on his back. He fell and lay motionless.

“Oh-oh-oh, you motherfucker!” Nikto said. Kors approached the boy, bending over him. Valentine groaned softly, shaking his head weakly from side to side, stirred and slowly sat down. Stunned by the blow, he clearly didn’t understand anything.

“I think I'll go get my daughter myself,” said Kors.

Lis led Marcus into a basement room filled with massive wardrobes stuffed with old folios and expensively bound books. On the table were stacks of plump notebooks.

“Look,” said Lis, “the scientist of the Reds conducted his experiments here, invented all sorts of exploding things. He was very good at it until his arms were blown off. Here he wrote down everything he did. Proportions, some formulas. Do you know red language?”

Lis turned to Marcus, he stood naked in front of him, embarrassedly covering his genitals with his hands, and looked at Lis in complete bewilderment and even with some kind of horror. Lis shook his head.

“Hey?”

“I know it a little, I learned it at school,” Marcus said barely.