Boris woke to pain. A recurring occurence, one he had grown accustomed to, as much as one can. From his first day as a renegade to waking up inside the Oasis, beaten so close to the edge of dying that most men would've died twice already, pain was as constant a companion to him as the obsession with Redemption. He turned his head to the side, feeling the cold concrete on his cheek, and spat. Opening his eye only a few millimetres, he saw a red streak on the dirty ground. Blood, from his mouth. Explained the taste of iron on his lips. Boris tried to rise into a sitting position, only for his legs and arms to refuse. It was like a 100 kilogram weight had been placed on him. As he opened his eyes properly, he understood why.

First of all, the Absolver he was wearing was completely dead. The display on his wrist was black, indicating that not even auxiliary power was available. Furthermore, his hands had been tied and some kind of weight had been placed on top of his legs. The MASKA helmet, accompanied by a very big dent where forehead of the wearer would be, was sitting not far from Boris. Pondering how he had ended up into this situation, Boris tested the ropes tying his hands. Too strong, blyat, Boris thought to himself, as he found no slack. The sound of footsteps closing surprised him, and suddenly a man in black SSP-99M suit appeared in his vision. A mercenary, the very same who had bashed Boris' head earlier, followed suit soon.

"Ah, good, you're awake. Boris... Unforgiven, was it? Quite dramatic, I must admit. Far more than your unassuming real name, Karnitsky, was it? I am Professor Serbin, and this here is Vulture. You met him earlier.", the SSP man introduced himself, and Boris shuddered at the mention of his real name.

"How the hell do you know my name?", Boris shouted, or tried to, only a whisper escaping his lips.

"Simple. Your friend Felka was captured alongside you. You have been out for roughly 18 hours, we have had plenty of time to interrogate him. He won't walk for a few months, as I prefer the old "knee of truth" method with a drill, but at least he was honest this once.", Vulture commented, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"Yes... Poor man, what a rotten fate. We are keeping him alive with a couple artifacts, it does wonders for interrogation progress. He will most likely not walk again, a true tragedy.", Serbin said, not a hint of actual remorse or empathy in his voice.

"You sick fucks. What do you want of us? Who the hell are you even?", Boris asked in utter rage, his voice hoarse.

"Tsk tsk. This isn't some shit film, where I reveal our entire organization dramatically. All we want is Degtyarev's and Strelok's heads on a plate. Our organization does not matter to you. You could not uncover it in a thousand years, and you most certainly do not have so much time. Now, tell us, where are the two men I mentioned? And do not play like you're out of the loop, we know who you are, Karnitsky.", Serbin said.

"In a thousand years, you would not get that out of me either. You can bring me to the brink of death, but that is nothing new to me. So fuck off, sukas.", Boris growled.

"Figured as much. Alright, we have means to make you talk, more sophisticated ones than what Vulture here uses. But first, think about this for a little moment. Felka mentioned that you have bad blood with a certain crime lord, Harkusha, was it? And you still have people you care about in Minsk? How about you tell us what we want, and we never reach out to your old enemy?", Serbin offered, and Boris could feel his heart sink a little, pondering what to answer.

"You would simply contact him anyway. Just kill me, this interrogation is pointless. You think some little shit like that one can get anything out of me? Pfft, right.", Boris said defiantly, but inside his head, he was frantically looking for a way out.

"Vulture? No, he already did his part. It is my turn. As you clearly are too stubborn to understand your own good, allow me to introduce my little friend. This tiny artefact is Current. It only forms in very specific circumstances inside a laboratory, and has a simple application. Unlike other artefacts, which have useful properties, this cutie loads up the victim's nervous system with electricity. The Current has a very similar feel to an eletric chair, but it never goes beyond human endurance. It will always adjust the current going through you to just keep you alive but in agony.", Serbin explained, holding a tiny, swirling cloud of electricity in his hand.

Boris could not reply, he simply braced himself for what was to come and sneered smugly at Serbin. For a briefest of moment, he saw some anger on the professor's face, who quickly washed it away to his usual blank expression. Without further comments, Serbin simply shrugged and tosses Current on top of Boris. For a minute, nothing happened, and Vulture even glanced at his companion questioningly. Boris was about to make a snarky remark, when every nerve end in his body cried out in anguish. The Current sent waves of pure energy running through him, frying his body with sheer pain. It was unlike anything Boris had ever felt, far from the sharp pain of gunshot wounds or the blunt, dull pain he had felt in his near-death state. He could barely see, so hard did the electric blasts hit him. Tears swelled in his eyes, and he struggled not to scream out, to not give into the pain.

The leader of Redemption could feel his strength wane, the constant stream of agony overcoming his iron will. Despite his rage and determination, he could feel some part of his body wish for the sweet release of death. He forced his eyes open, looked defiantly at Serbin and gritted his teeth. No rogue scientist would claim him this day. But the situation did not seem great, the ropes keeping his hands tied down and the weights doing the same for his legs. The dead exoskeleton wrapped around him did not help. With some power to it, he could easily break the ropes and try to escape, but there was no juice in the battery. Out of some forlorn hope, he glanced at the display on his wrist, more out of desperation than anything else. To his surprise, the screen was showing a small bit of battery power, and it was charging up even further.

The Current seemed to have the side-effect of charging his suit's batteries, something the professor clearly had not thought of. Realizing that through his pain he could get just enough juice to fight back, Boris tried to relax and take the torture head on. Serbin frowned as he saw Boris' expression turn from utter agony to concentrated, yet pained, look. He turned to Vulture, saying in an annoyed tone:

"Keep watch on him. He will break eventually, but I have more important matters to attend to. That damn Mongol Khan will come to visit us in an hour, he seemed annoyed that we let those Ecologists escape. If he breaks, call me in, I want to see how long it takes to extract a result with the Current.", Serbin ordered, turned on his heels and opened the door to leave.

"I bet my method would be faster.", Vulture scoffed.

"Yes, yes, of course it is. Just like Jackal's blockade was supposed to keep stalkers out of Pripyat. That hypothesis worked well for him.", Serbin said with venom in his voice and stepped out.

"Little suka...", Vulture cursed and clenched his fists, glancing towards the door.

Boris saw his chance, reaching for the auxiliary battery located not far from his tied hands. He found the emergency power distributor, and flicked it on, the suit whirring to life. Absolver was back in action, yet through the crackling and whirring of the Current, Vulture had not noticed it yet. Boris loaded all his strength into his hands, and with a decisive pull, ripped apart the ropes. Only now did Vulture turn towards him, but it was too late. With desperate rage, Boris tore the pulsing Current off his chest, the waves of pain becoming stronger. The mercenary was reaching for his gun, when Boris smacked the artifact into his stomach. Like an otherwordly taser, the strong torrent of sheer eletricity shot through Vulture, and he flinched. Before he could yell, Boris took him by the throat and pushed. The two exoskeleton-clad men struggled for two minutes, but Boris was no longer weakened by the artifact while Vulture very much was.

The mercenary punched, clawed and headbutted Boris as much as he could, but Vulture's strength grew weaker as the torture artifact sapped him of it. The strangle grip Boris held him in claimed the man eventually, the life leaving his eyes as no oxygen reached his lungs. While Boris would never know it, he had killed the last mercenary leader of Jackal's group left in the Zone. Seeing his chance, Boris took Jackal's SIG 552 and three magazines. On his belt, Boris found his trusty kukri, clearly taken as war trophy by Vulture, and on the holster, the extremely rare Automag pistol. Feeling far more confident now, Boris walked over to his MASKA helmet and placed it on his head. As the visor lowered down on his face, and he once more saw the world through a narrow slit, Boris grinned slightly. It was time for a little payback.

Boris opened the door slightly and took a look at the corridor. It was empty, they were clearly inside one of the large building blocks of Outskirts. He stepped out, holding the SIG rifle at eye level, and slowly moved onwards. The battery on his suit had power for roughly half an hour, after which he would have to swap the powerpack for the one he had looted off Vulture. However, his priority number one would be finding Felka, and number two was to escape. He creeped up the hallway, checking rooms by the sides. One had a dead man in SSU uniform, signs of torture on his body. Boris could not dwell on it, even if it raised questions of Degtyarev's activity, he had to keep going. Next door led to a storage room, right by the end of the corridor. Felka was there, tossed by the side of the room next to a safe. His legs were truly fucked beyond recognition, Vulture had really used something horrible on him. Boris froze for a moment, seeing his companion in such a shape.

This was his doing, his crusade had led to the disfiguring of Felka. He would have to fix this somehow. He took one more glance at the room, and realized that his artifacts were on the cabinet nearby. Felka was clearly unconcious, and he couldn't have gotten to them anyway as the cabinet was locked, but it was nothing the exoskeleton could not handle. Boris broke the lock and took out his Goldfish, placing it on the belt. Then he took his Heart of Oasis, sending a quick prayer to Anton for being such a generous soul, and placed it on Felka's belt. The ex-renegade did not wake up, which was probably a blessing in his state, but some more colour returned to his cheeks. Holstering his SIG and tossing the body of his friend over his shoulder, Boris saw that it was high time to leave. The Automag in his free hand, Boris began a painful and tense march towards the staircase.

As he was tiptoeing forward, as quietly as one can in an exoskeleton, carrying another man, he heard arguments from one room. Serbin was shouting, but Boris could quite make out the words. Another voice, with a clear Eastern accent, made calm but mocking remarks to the professor. Boris could only understand Strelok's and Degtyarev's names from the conversation, and for a moment he thought that barging in and shooting the two men talking could end this fight once and for all. Raising his Automag, he prepared to do just this, when a man in black Sunrise suit stepped into the hallway.

"Blyaaat, who the-", the newcomer commented, just before Boris shot his liberated pistol at him.

The .44 AMP round struck him like a truck, killing the man instantly. The conversation next door ended, and Boris, knowing his luck had just ran out, fired three rounds through the door before breaking into sprint. Three more rounds in the magazine, he thought, as he rounded the corner and ran into the staircase. A burst struck the concrete wall behind him, one of Serbin's men clearly alerted by the shots. Another tried to block the escape, but Boris was a second faster on the draw, the Automag thundering in the cramped space and smashing the guard's head in. Felka was whimpering quietly as Boris ran, almost tumbling down in the stairs worn by time. Two more floors, he thought, knowing these types of buildings by heart. More rounds struck the staircase, one of the guards shooting down from the fourth floor. Ricochets bounced around Boris and Felka, but thankfully they only struck the walls and not the men.

On the ground floor, Boris could see daylight. They would get out! He lunged out, avoiding another shot fired by a guard standing by the door he had missed earlier. The guard raised a SIG rifle, taking aim as Boris struggled to turn his pistol towards the man. Shot rang out, struck the Absolver's plate and dented it. Boris felt the dull blow of an unpenetrating hit, and fired back. Or would have, if the Automag had not jammed. Nothing happened as he pressed the trigger, and the guard in midnight-black SEVA grinned triumphantly. His grin was still there when a bullet hit him in the head, fired by a suppressed rifle.

"Goddammit, we're too late! Boris got out by himself!", Dima shouted, holding a smoking Val.

"Never get to be heroes, do we.", Sanyok cursed as Boris was running towards them.

"Move, you clowns! There's more of them coming!", Boris screamed as more footsteps rang in the staircase.

"Blyat, follow us Boris! To the Valkyrie!", Dima replied as a squad of heavily armed guards and UNISG troops burst out of the building.

They set off running, and only then did Boris try to gather his bearings. They were somewhere near the grocery store, albeit where exactly, Boris did not get to consider, as more bullets rained on the streets from behind. Sanyok tossed a smoke grenade behind him, trying to slow down the incoming enemies. Boris could feel his body slowly drain out, the torture and combat weighing on him, but hearing the pained yelps of Felka, he pushed on. He owed it to his friend to get him out alive. If they survived now, they could return for payback.