Ilya Vladevich

Minute 19 of the operationThe second squad of the Grey Spot Assault Team was advancing toward the outer perimeter of the target zone. Operative Three was calmly dismantling an improvised explosive trap set by Tavat agents.Operative Two, trying to ease the tense atmosphere with a casual tone, whispered:"Why is the captain personally leading the mission this time?"Operative One didn't look up. He simply replied, "Heard that Operative Four didn't make it back last time… and no suitable sniper was willing to fill the spot. So the captain came himself."Two fell silent, his smile fading. Only the faint metallic clicks of the defusal tools remained in the air.

Minute 45 of the operationGunfire echoed nonstop from a Tavat Empire embassy near the Venosa border in Saint Moyati. Agent K1 of the Tavat intelligence unit crouched in the basement, hands over his head.After a barrage of shelling, the upper levels of the embassy were reduced to rubble. His colleagues had long gone silent.K1, gathering his courage, half-knelt and gripped his MP‑443 with trembling hands, aiming it at the iron door of the basement. The in-ear tactical headset he wore only amplified his fear—it felt like every footstep in the world was approaching him.

The door exploded. Smoke hadn't even cleared when the Grey Spot Assault Team surged into the basement corridor like ghosts. The narrow space was choked with the stench of gunpowder and concrete dust, flickering lights casting unstable shadows.K1 could tell they were here—at least three of them, advancing carefully, hugging the walls with textbook precision. He immediately chose cover at a T-shaped junction, knelt, loaded a spare mag, and chambered a round.

Bang! Bang!He fired first—two quick shots, bullets ricocheting off the corner, forcing Operative One to dive and roll sideways for cover."Hostile fire at corridor right corner—elevated angle!" Operative Three called out."Cover me!" One growled, tossing a smoke grenade forward.K1 smirked coldly—trying to push under cover? He swiftly pulled a Zarya-M flashbang from his pouch, pulled the pin, and threw.

BOOM!A blinding white light engulfed the corridor. The shockwave seemed to freeze the air."Flashbang!" Three staggered back, blinded. Two was slower—completely blinded, cursing in pain against the wall.K1 seized the moment and charged from the corner, firing rapidly with precise control and minimal recoil:

First shot struck Three's outer shoulder—sparks flew, armor dented, Three grunted and collapsed.

Second shot grazed One's visor—ping! a sharp ricochet.

Third shot shattered a ventilation duct, metal splinters spraying like knives.

"I'm hit—but the helmet took it!" One rolled aside, heart pounding. A deep gouge marred his F70-C blast-resistant tactical helmet—the titanium shell and Kevlar lining had just saved his life.But the ricochet fragments hit Two's left comms headset squarely, blowing it apart."My headset's fried! Can't hear commands!" Two shouted, stumbling back.

Even as K1 kept shooting, he was already moving, diving into the collapsed electrical room, vanishing from sight. He knew every wall, every blind corner in this place. This was his only chance to escape."Seal the vent! He's flanking!" Three shouted, blind-firing at the shadows around the corner.K1 sprang from behind a pile of broken equipment, firing precisely as he retreated:

He shattered the last working light, plunging the space into flickering darkness.

He ruptured a water pipe—steam billowed out, obscuring vision.

He blasted the wall to create false echoes, disorienting pursuit.

The firefight lasted barely a minute, but every second felt like a life-or-death battle. Bullets ricocheted like thunder.K1 burst through the rear door, ripped off the safety latch—and finally smiled. He hurled a second flashbang into the corridor, then dove into the emergency stairwell leading to the surface.

BOOM!!A second blinding flash severed all pursuit."He's out!" One gritted his teeth and charged toward the exit, holding his cracked visor.

Aboveground, the night was thick with smoke. The embassy was nothing but scorched rubble.K1 ran like a beast unleashed, leaping over debris and fallen streetlamps, sprinting toward the abandoned parking lot.No spare mags left. Only three rounds remained in his MP‑443. But he knew—he had survived hell.He ran seventeen steps before gasping for breath, a rush of survivor's euphoria surging within him.

Bang.A low, clean sniper shot rang out.From a ruined building 180 meters away, the Grey Spot team's captain pulled the trigger.

An old M24 SWS rifle, retrofitted with a hotshoe and low-light optics, firing a custom-loaded .300 Winchester Magnum round.The bullet tore through K1's chest. His body lifted off the ground and slammed down.His pistol slid a meter away. His fingers would never reach it again.

The captain slowly lowered the rifle, pulled back the bolt, ejected the spent casing."Target eliminated," he muttered.

...So quiet.Is this what it feels like—to be shot?Like something had torn open his chest. It didn't hurt exactly, just… collapsed inward, like he was falling into a bottomless well.The world faded. All he could hear was his heartbeat, pounding inside his skull.

Bang.Bang.He lay on his back among the rubble. The night sky was thick ink. The stars blurred. He wanted to move, but even his eyelids felt heavy.Blood seeped from his mouth—bitter, warm.

His brain slowed, like film running in reverse. Each frame stretched endlessly. Time fractured. And then, memories surfaced:His first covert infiltration test—when his instructor patted him on the shoulder, actually sounding impressed.Reporting for duty on his first day at Tavat's Internal Security Division, in a wrinkled uniform but standing straight. His mother had sewn on his badge back when she was alive.And his own reflection behind prison bars… there had never been survival in those eyes.

And then he saw her.

A girl with a ponytail, waving to him from behind the training field's fence. Sunlight lit her shoulders, her blue-and-white school uniform fluttering in the breeze."Brother! I got accepted into the Special Ops Division!"He remembered smiling—lightly, with a hint of pride."That's good… Second Advanced Academy. Special Ops.""You'd better be stronger than me, got it?"She nodded hard, smiling like sunshine.

K1's vision faded. He tried to see her face again, but the light melted into the dark.He wanted to say something. His lips moved, but no sound came.

He wanted to tell her:"Don't become like me."

Then the night collapsed completely.Silence returned.

His watch stopped forever at 02:44 / 20 / 10 / 703.

Minute 52 of the operationOutside the ruins of the Tavat Empire embassy, Saint MoyatiNight had finally quieted. The building's remains still smoldered, firelight reflecting off shattered walls. The air stank of blood and gunpowder.

Operative Three leaned against a collapsed wall, wrapping his wounded shoulder. He was young. This was his first mission with Grey Spot—and a brutal close-quarters firefight had nearly killed him.

The captain rose from beside K1's body, silent for a moment, then picked up the discarded MP‑443 pistol and studied it.It was worn smooth, grip slightly frayed. A tiny raven insignia was etched into the mag base—a mark of Tavat's "Black Claw" intelligence operatives.This wasn't just any sidearm. It was K1's personal weapon, forged through years of missions.

The captain walked over to Three and handed it to him.

"Take it."Three hesitated. "This is…?""A Raven Gun," the captain said quietly. "Not an honor. A responsibility."Three accepted it with both hands. His gaze steadied. He understood—this wasn't a trophy. It was the will of those who came before, and he was now one of Grey Spot.

One smiled faintly, clapped Three on the shoulder, and whispered, "Don't lose it. He almost deafened me with those last few shots."The captain said nothing. He pulled a videotape from his tactical pouch, wiped the dust off, and studied the label:

"RO 300 / Internal Records / High-Level Military-Gov Access Only"

His eyes lingered on the faded but still legible text. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke low:

"This isn't just ordinary intel… it's tied to 'Four.'"

The air went still.Two, adjusting the comms unit, paused: "You mean… the 'Four' from our last op?"The captain nodded, calm as if giving a routine report.

"His last mission was cleaning up the Tavat Experimental Intelligence Station. It failed. Status unknown." He paused. "After that, Tavat blacked out satellite feeds for the entire zone—until today."

Three held the Raven Gun, eyes shifting from the tape to the captain."You think… K1 was guarding this tape?""Or making sure it didn't fall into the wrong hands."The captain tucked the tape into his vest, voice grim:

"Either way, we're bringing it back to base… and then we'll find out whose name comes out of this tape."

He stood, eyes turning to the brightening horizon."Evacuate."

Meanwhile, in the capital city of Serlan, VenosaA foreign intelligence analyst stared at decrypted blueprints on his desk:

VRS‑28 "Talleyrand" Assault Rifle

ParameterDescriptionCaliber7.62×54mmR (enhanced penetration variant)Magazine25-round heavy curved / 35-round reinforced drum (carbon-nanocomposite, heat-proof)Rate of Fire800 rounds/min (adjustable: 400 / 600 / 800)Total Length990mm (with collapsible stock)Weight6.3 kg (without magazine)Fire ModesSingle / 3-round burst / Full-autoControl SystemFull-domain pressure control, neural feedback & dynamic recoil balancing

The analyst muttered to himself:

"…Could they be researching tactical robots too?"