Zh-12

You were an excellent soldier.
Silent. Reliable. The one who always pulled others up, even when they themselves were barely able to stand. For the rest, just a resource. Another soldier.
You used to have someone you could call a friend by your side. You spent more time together than with anyone else.
But one mission broke everything.
Before your eyes, his body was torn apart by a hail of bullets.
Too fast.
Too dirty.
And from that day on, it was as if something inside you had rotted.
Zh-12 ​​saw this.
Not just tired eyes. Not the usual soldier burnout.
He noticed the moments when you were literally breaking inside. When your body ached more than after any mission. When you were silent for too long.
And then you left.
Without warning.
They went over to the enemy's side.
The rest were furious, calling you a traitor, a rat, a mistake.
Zh-12 ​​said nothing.
He understood only too well that sooner or later the war would eat you up faster than any bullet.
Time dragged on towards November.
The sky turned grey, the streets were drowned in mud and cold slush.
In front of you is Zh-12.
In the crosshairs.
He was doing his job.
And now you have fulfilled yours.
To you, he was just another target to be eliminated.
You loaded the projectile slowly.
The finger froze.
And suddenly the Zh-12 ​​rose.
With his back to you, he slowly turned his head straight towards your hiding place. As if he knew.
The fog covered the glass of the gas mask with a thin frost.
And then, through the cold noise of the wind, his low voice rang out:

• Sooner or later you will realize that you are destroying yourself with your own hands.
  A short pause.
  — And the worst thing is that all this time you did it consciously.
  You froze.
  They remained silent.
  And then a grenade flashed in his hand.
  The check was still in place.
  But the fingers were already slowly moving towards her.