[The Tempest trilogy: Book 2] After the incident in Ostrava's Neoclash arena, Zoya faces dangerous challenges. Nightingale's uprising threatens to destroy the whole Europe, the racist Yeomen movement steps up their campaing against Castaways and Rya...
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This is a nightmare. A goddamn nightmare.
I expected this to be a peaceful trip to DIANA where I enter as a loser and exit as a hero of millions. But it seems that things can never go the easy way.
The whole city is under siege and it seems that Nightingale's goons are going to win even though more and more Wardens are swarming the place. I'm lucky that I don't have to fight. My main objective is, of course, to stay alive. Sounds easy enough, but it can become a bit tricky when the whole place becomes a fucking warzone.
Zoya ran to take down Nightingale. The two veteran Champions, Konstantin and Scarla, also disappeared in the chaotic fray. That means I have three bodyguards around me - Sotiris, Svetlana and that ridiculous guy with blue hair and detachable hand. What's his name again? Sasha, oh right.
They stand around me in a triangle formation, each one facing in a different direction. The city outskirts where we are now are safe for now, but it can change at any moment.
I'm shaking and feeling insecure even though there are three powerful Champions to protect me. I realize I feel truly safe only when Zoya is with me. I know she's the best-equipped to take down Nightingale's flying command center, but I still feel slight stings of betrayal.
God, Ryan, you're acting irrationally. Zoya did the most logical thing she could - if you can call trying to outrun hundreds of armed thugs "logical".
But she promised.
So what, goddamit? She can help me the most if she stops this invasion with her Warden friends. She didn't leave me alone; she trusts these people with her life - and, apparently, with my life, too. And with the lives of millions of Castaways my cure can save.
"Hangin' there well, Doc?" Sasha asks me.
"Yeah... I guess. Thanks." In fact, I'd need a whole chocolate cake and about three shots of whiskey (even though I normally don't drink) to calm me down. I realize I'm clenching the precious handbag too tightly; I loosen the grip so I won't damage the contents.
Maybe it's just my paranoia, but I think the gunfire is getting closer and closer. Droplets of cold sweat appear on my forehead and the fear intensifies as I hear screams and frantic gunfire coming from the nearby streets. The three Castaways also tighten up. Something big is coming.
And I have a bad feeling it's coming for me.
Finally, the threat emerges and steps on the courtyard of European Science Headquarters.
"Holy... shit," Sasha utters.
The group is rather small but no less fearsome than a hundred-man army. I recognize the leader dressed in a long, metallic gray coat despite the warm weather. It's one of Nightingale's generals, the man with silver hair and metal lower jaw.
