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"Did you kill Wolfgang Weber?"

N-no," he says. "That was my—my friend. Hans. He—he had to do it. Weber was our commander, but he was—he was crazy. We did not know how to survive in the mountains, we had no training, but he kept pushing us, no matter how bad it got. He—he had angered Paulus, the Gestapo man. P-Paulus told him that if we did not find the Stone, he—he would kill Weber's family, back in Germany. He would torture them himself, he said. And Weber went mad with fear. He would not let us s-stop, rest. So Hans just—just snapped one morning, shot him in the head. Then it was just us. H-Hans and Florian, alone on the mountain."

"About the body outside…"

Florian interrupts you with a deep, heaving wail. "H-Hans… He—he was sick. He died. I—I had to do it. Oh God. Oh God forgive me."

"You did what you had to do to survive. Try not to feel bad."

S-survive," he says. "Yes. Survive. But—but some things are so bad that if you do them, you stop wanting to survive. You know you don't deserve to."

"Zhu, what should we do with him?"

Zhu simply takes the decision for you. Before you can do anything, his pistol is out and up. He fires once, and it is all he needs. Private Florian Schlegel slumps to the ground, his brief light snuffed out forever.

"What the hell, Zhu? He was just a kid!"

A soldier, and an enemy soldier," says Zhu. "He knew the risks. He would have died soon anyway. Spare him your tears, Spillane. He is unworthy of them."

Zhu slides his gun back into its holster, turns, and crawls out of the tent without another word. Without a flicker of remorse, he marshals his companions once again, urging the expedition ever onward up the Cloven Neck.