“To the revolution!”, the shout pierced through the bustle and clamor of the tavern, briefly attracting curious glances, before disappearing in the cacophony of noise. Elsewhere, the seditious slogan might have caused a ruckus. In the newly conquered territories at the edge of the empire, it was common sentiment.

Still, Lev punched his companion in the shoulder, prompting feinted protest and some laughter from the other three men at his table. “We don’t need any attention!”, he whispered in a sharp voice. “Not today!”. Any other day of the week, he was down to participate in the childish provocations of his friend. Today, he wanted to leave the tavern with as few people noticing him as possible.

Though the others still wore grins on their lips, they nodded in agreement. Even Nehi, the young Khazar who was the origin of the shout, seemed to calm down a little and somber up. All of them had emptied at least one cup. Some more than that, though Lev really could not blame them. With what they were planning to do, they needed all the courage they could get. And if some of them needed a liquid form of courage to ready themselves, he wouldn’t stand in their way. All that mattered was that they could still aim when the time came.

“Your cousin has confirmed the event?”, Zjuha, one of the older men at the table asked in his accented voice. The seasoned Czemik was eyeing a group at another table cautiously, though Lev suspected that it was just the nerves getting to him.

Nehi nodded his attempts at being serious undercut by his nervous excitement. “A good part of the garrison will be attending the function at the hall. The few guards that are left, shouldn’t pose much of a problem if we can get into the building as planned.”

Satisfied with the response, the older man nodded his head, before taking another swig of his cup. “Let’s hope you are right.” Nehi shrugged, a fatalistic grin on his smug face. Lev wondered if his reckless young khazar friend would have joined the pirates that used to be based in Maris before the empire took it. He certainly was the type. Young, adventurous, ready to risk his life for what others would consider stupid reasons.

To be fair, the same could be said of himself. He smirked, suddenly feeling the same fatalistic urge that he suspected Nehi had. If things went well today everything would change. If they didn’t, none of them would live to see the morning.

He was absorbed in his own thoughts when suddenly an indignant shriek woke him from his daze. His head turning to the origin of the disturbance, he saw one of the young serving girls pulled into a gruff sailor’s arms. Around them, the bastards’ companions cheered even as the terrified young woman turned pale white.

After a moment of struggle, the girl was let go, accompanied by a jeer of amusement by the other tavern guests. She was shaken, quickly pulling her crumpled clothes straight before running off into the kitchen.

Lev looked over to his friends, all of whom looked somewhere between annoyed to angry, before sighing and emptying his cup.

The others seemed to take this as the signal to finish their glasses and pack up their things. Lev too, retrieved his coat and got ready to leave the dingy little tavern at the edge of port. Once outside, the cool evening air quickly cooled the alcoholic heat on his face. The sky turned a golden shade of orange as the five men made their way away from the cooling breeze of the port and towards the western edge of the city.

Lev had been in Maris for about two years. The Khazar port city was attracting all sorts of young folk from all corners of the empire who were looking for employment. The large port, newly established rail line, and booming industrial sector that was growing on the outskirts were providing plenty of opportunities.

Considering the fact, that the entirety of the former Khazar territory on the right bank of the Neyr had been conquered and integrated into the empire only 12 years ago, this rapid industrialization was a marvel. The Khazars that had built the city had been the only remaining holdout of the steppe confederacy this side of the great river Neyr. Now that the Kanis Empire had taken it, it was making sure that the city remained under the imperial flag.

Three newly erected fortresses encircled the city to the north, the northeast and the eastern shore. In addition to the garrison of these forts, a fourth garrison held the city and an accompanying arsenal was located at the western edge of Maris.

Which was where they were headed.

Looking at it, Lev could plainly see that the imperial arsenal was originally a Khazar arsenal built in the local style, ubiquitous to the area. White sandstone walls with high-arcated windows and blue shingles adorning the roof. He figured that it was quite a beautiful building, if very utilitarian compared to the much prettier specimens of this architectural style at the city center. Back, when the city fell to Kanis, the imperial troops coming in simply took the building over.

Which now came in handy for them and their plans.

Nehi led the group further down the road, ignoring the guarded entrance to the arsenal, and continued even further, two streets down. There they turned into a small alley flanked by the tall sandstone walls of multistory homes. The streets were almost totally deserted. At this time of the evening, only troublemakers and lowlifes were wandering these parts. And a young boy, barely into puberty who was playing with a stick, drawing in the dusty dirt on the ground.

As the group came closer, the boy looked up and waved them closer. Nervousness and anxiety washed all over his immature face.

“This way.”, he muttered, his high voice obscuring the accent he had while speaking Kanis. Nehi stepped forward and patted him on the back. “You did well.”, he muttered to his younger cousin before shooing him off. Then he turned to a small door in the wall of the building.

“Let’s go then.”, Lev said surprised by the dry hoarseness of his own voice. As they disappeared into the darkness of the entryway, he could almost feel the tension built in the air. They had planned this for weeks. Ever since Nehi had found out about this old secret entrance to the arsenal. Ever since they found out about the garrison commander’s son’s wedding that was keeping a large chunk of the usual guard away right now.

Lev himself had prepared himself a long time ago. No matter what happened, he had to do this. All of these preparations did not stop the tension and nervousness from building with every step they took down the tunnel.

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Up ahead, Zjuha and Jaro were taking the lead with a torch lighting their way. They stopped when a rough-looking brick wall came into view. After a moment of hesitation, tools were brough forward and weapons were readied. Lev himself stood back, his pistol raised and ready to fire, as the two men at the front started to carefully remove the mortar holding the bricks together.

If everything went according to plan, no one would notice them getting in. In case it didn’t Lev, Nehi and Taras were ready, weapon in hand to take care of any eventualities.

The two men at the front tried their best to avoid making any sounds as they removed brick after brick to open a hole in the wall. On the other side, they were greeted by darkness. The tunnel ended in a supply closet whose door was closed. A couple of tense minutes later, the hole was finally large enough for them to start moving through. As he passed through it, Lev could feel some of his tension dissipate.

They had made it into the arsenal without being noticed. With that, the first part of their plan had worked out perfectly.

A muffled curse rang out as Jaro tried to open the door, only to realize that it wasn’t budging. Fuck. Of course, the closet door had to be locked! Lev glanced over to Zjuha, who was holding up his hands in an expression of helpless frustration. They would need to break the door. Which Lev suspected couldn’t be done especially silently.

Well, it couldn’t have been too easy right?

Having exchanged looks, Jaro breathed in deeply, gathering his resolve. They had already come too far to just give up because of one damned door. He took a few steps back, before ramming himself into the door.

It held out and only the loud protest of the hinges rang through the dim twilight of the torch. Lev felt his adrenaline kick into overdrive. They were fucked and he knew it. Already, he could hear steps walking up the corridor as the blood drained from both his and his comrade's faces.

Muffled curses came through from the other side.

“…-lways these fucking khazar conscripts. Can’t even store sacks correctly without me having to double check it!”, the annoyed voice of a soldier who was clearly fed up with his subordinates carried through the wood. The scratching sound of a key being inserted into the lock rang out and everyone was frozen in place. Then the key turned, and Lev saw Taras lift his pistol and aim. The door opened and light flooded into the room.

A shot rang out, the noise amplified by the cramped space and ringing in Lev’s ears. A cry followed and he saw that the soldier, a young blond man, held his side while trying to unholster his gun. Before he could, Jaro battered his fist into his face, making the soldier fold into himself.

For a moment, everything was silent. Then they started to run.

Out of the room, down the corridor, following Nehi who had some knowledge of the layout of the arsenal. Next to him, Lev saw Taras trying to reload his pistol while following, though this only resulted in black powder and lead being scattered on the ground.

Their crappy outdated pistols were bad weapons in the best case, downright useless if you needed to shoot more than once. Well, they were the only ones they had been able to get their hands on.

Alarmed shouts and noise of commotion came from all sides, as the pistol shot must have alarmed every soldier in the arsenal. Soon enough, another opponent appeared further down the corridor, his crumpled uniform and dizzy face making Lev suspect that he had been sleeping on shift. He took aim with his own pistol and shot but missed by a long shot.

Cursing internally, he watched the dazed man startled by the ricocheting bullet. The training he must have received kicked in and before Nehi could take his own shot, or Jaro cross the distance with the knife in his hand, a gun fired.

To the left of him, Lev saw blood splatter before he heard Zjuha cry out in pain. The middle-aged Czemik went to his knees, his hand going to the bleeding graze on his side. Before the soldier could take another shot, Jaro was upon him. He tried to block a slash of the knife with his gun but failed as Jaro’s blade embedded itself in his abdomen.

“Don’t stop!”, Nehi cried out even as he continued past Jaro and turned into another corridor.

Lev hesitated for a brief moment as he stared at the bleeding Zjuha, but continued as he saw the wounded man grit his teeth and run forward. If he wanted to survive this, they had to make it to the weapon stores. He, no, all of them, knew that this might well just end with all of them dead. He couldn’t just freeze at the first sign of someone getting wounded.

“That’s it!”, he heard Nehi shout as they rounded a corner and closed in on a double-winged wooden door. What he also saw was a soldier, dressed better than the ones before and clearly surprised by their arrival, turn to face them. Panicked surprise briefly blossomed on his face, before something that looked like detached superiority took over. He raised his hand with something clutched within them when Lev let loose another shot of his pistol.

Lev saw the lead ball shoot towards the soldiers, aiming straight at his chest. Then he saw a strange shimmer in the air and the bullet fell to the ground, uselessly. Fuck, he cursed internally. A sorcerer!

Jaro fell upon the man, his knife already darting up towards the exposed neck. Once again, a shimmer appeared in the air as Jaro seemed to hit something with his blade. The experienced fighter, tried to fall back, but before he could a shot rang out from behind Lev.

Lev turned, just in time to see the rifle turned towards himself. He lunged forward, realizing that at least three soldiers had snuck up on them from behind. The next shot fired and graced his arm. A sharp pain shot through Lev’s body, even as more shots rang out.

He had to move. Continuing the motion, Lev threw himself forwards, towards the sorcerer blocking the path towards the weapons storage. In front of him, he could see Jaro, most likely dead, lying in a puddle of his own blood. If Lev stopped moving, he would soon share the same fate.

The sorcerer, watching Lev come closer, opened his mouth to say something. His clasped hand was still strangely lifted in the air when Nehi slammed himself into him. Lev couldn’t help the feeling of satisfaction as he saw the sorcerer’s face distort into disbelief. Then both tumbled to the ground.

At the same time, Lev saw the sorcerer’s hand open, and something drop to the ground. Without even thinking, he threw himself towards the item, grabbing it just as a bullet impacted the ground right next to him. Without reacting or looking back, he scrambled forward, towards the door.

Behind him, he could hear death and pain. They had failed. He knew they had failed the moment Jaro fell. Even if he could make it to the door. Could he open it before they shot him? If he could, how would a wooden door protect him against rifle fire?

Feeling some sort of stubborn, he threw himself against the door. Only to be surprised as it gave no resistance to him, opening as he fell through. He blinked, staring at the dusty floor. Did everything conspire against him today, or was that just the impending sense of doom talking?

He opened his hand, staring at the strange item the sorcerer had dropped. It was a small white ceramic tablet with a red symbol painted on it. He had not the faintest idea what it did.

“Fuck this.”, he muttered under his breath as he heard the struggling sound of Nehi trying to hold down the sorcerer behind him. They were all going to die. And all he got was some weird sorcerer clay tablet. He almost thought it to be funny, though the humor was quickly subsumed by despair.

A rifle fired and he heard Zjuma die. Turning, he saw the middle-aged man drop to the ground only a couple of meters away. Taras had reached the door and taken cover behind it, now trying to return fire.

Nehi and the sorcerer still formed a heap on the ground, both struggling to pin the other down. The soldiers did not dare to shoot, afraid to hit what was surely their superior. A shot pierced Lev’s side, as he lay completely uncovered in the middle of the doorway.

It hurt. But he barely noticed it through the unhinged laughter that was coming up his throat. This was all so utterly fucked. He couldn’t bear it.

Laughing he lifted his unloaded pistol and aimed it in the soldiers’ general direction.

“Kill them!”, he cried out, his voice mad as he pulled the trigger of his unloaded weapon.

Another bullet hit him in the shoulder, and he fell on his back, the world rapidly turning dark.

As the world disappeared an angel appeared.