Zeus

You tighten the harness on your hip. Not because of the height, but because of him. Svyatoslav. Someone called him Zeus for his strength. The name stuck. Now he's your headache.

Exercise: evacuation of the "victim" from the tower. Together.

• Hey, Perseus, he gave you a nickname too.

• Don't disturb me. I'm counting the height.

• I'll go down first. You'll belay.

• No. I'll go up higher, we'll lower it between us. Safer.

• Longer. My way is faster.

• More risky! A team, not just you!

You ignore the instructor and climb up the various stands. When you reach the dummy, you secure it.

“Not like that,” he intercepts the carbine.

• According to the instructions! - you snatch it back.

A jolt. A scraping sound. The carabiner slips. The dummy falls. You scream, grab, and your harness comes ripping off.

Horror. Fall. Jerk. You hang in the void.

And his hands. Instantly he's anchored, pulled you in, snapped you into his system. His fingers are shaking. He never shook.

You are pressed against him, hearing the beating of his heart - his or yours?

“Everything... okay?” his voice lacked its usual confidence.