Station Work
Nikopol - May 20, 2594
Narrated by Jorn Kal
The Station
We arrived at the station—a place of brutal order and sharp lines. The Streltsys had everything in place: weapons gleamed, ammunition stacked neatly, floors so clean they might shame a Spitalian ward. The Rarogi patrolled the walls like clockwork, checking for cracks or holes, keeping the Sepsis out.
I was accompanying Friedrich Voigt, Anastasia Frostmane, Sasha Volkov, Thaddeus Cain, and Wren—the Apocalyptic we’d been tasked with babysitting. It felt wrong having Wren among us, but orders were orders. Sokolov thought Anastasia could keep an eye on him.
At first, everything seemed routine. That’s how it always starts. But then Friedrich got this look, like something was pulling at him. His eyes kept darting to the mollusk from my splayer—a trophy from the Resident Biokinetic. He and Thaddeus both seemed… connected to it, though Friedrich worse.
Walking in Circles
Myron, a Streltsys built like she could wrestle a Biokinetic herself, ordered us to patrol the station perimeter. Just walking in the blistering sun, over and over. They armed us with flintlock pistols—two of them—and a paltry eight bullets. Not nearly enough for the things out here.
Four hours of trudging under that furnace sky, and the mood turned sour. Thaddeus asked Friedrich what was wrong, but Friedrich shrugged him off. Something was clearly bothering him, though.
On the way back, Anastasia swiped some train logs from the office. I think I was the only one who saw, but I dare not to comment with anyone.
The Roof
The view from the roof was… unsettling. You could see the train tracks stretching through the city and the wasteland, the power plant puffing away, and beyond that, the Spore Wall—a reminder that nothing here is safe.
Wren talked about living even closer to the Wall. Who chooses to live near that nightmare?
Then it started raining spiders. Not a metaphor—actual Husk spiders, pouring down from the sky. That’s when everything fell apart. Friedrich froze, then started mumbling, shouting. I couldn’t take it. The spiders, Friedrick’s panic—they crawled into my head. I lost it. We both did. Friedrich and I screamed, and the world narrowed to pain and fear.
Thaddeus snapped into action. He yanked my splayer and smashed the mollusk. Anastasia, ever quick, shoved Friedrich and me down the hatch.
The mollusk wasn’t just a trophy—it was part of the Resident’s brain. And it nearly dragged us all into madness. But now it is lost. I will need something else if I am to enact my plan.
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