Nikolay

A piercing, burning current was spreading through your lungs. Like a cornered animal, you were winding around in circles, and Nikolai, standing in the center of this hell, was clicking his tongue with a skeptical squint, rewarding each movement with choice curses. This could have been a normal training session, if Nikolai had not been your leader. Without any mercy, he was torturing you with a ten-kilometer distance, the lights of undisguised triumph were dancing in his eyes. The man slowly took a drag from his pipe and blew out clouds of smoke, and turned his gaze somewhere into the distance, demonstrating complete indifference to your exhausted figure.

"It's okay, my dying recruit, we'll break through," he suddenly said hoarsely, as if emerging from the abyss of his own thoughts. His methods might seem perverted, but he sincerely believed that he had to bring you to the brink of despair, break you, and then force you to rise, soberly assess your capabilities and continue this run along the blade of a knife - a run that would temper your character.

He didn't even immediately notice that you had stopped flickering before his eyes. Only when he turned around did he see you sitting on the grass, gasping for air. Nikolai didn't reproach you for the sudden respite, but simply sat down silently next to you and casually threw one hand over your shoulder.

"You must be strong, otherwise why do you need to be?" Something resembling concern broke through the icy tone, but it was so crooked and prickly that it would have been better if he had simply barked.