The night had been brutal, the silence of the castle broken only by the echoes of battle. The basement of Kaub Castle had been a slaughterhouse, the last of the zombies falling to the relentless fire of Prussian and Russian soldiers. Only a few survivors remained, the rest either dead or lost in the chaos. The air in the castle was thick with tension, the remnants of bloodshed still lingering in the stone walls.

As you wander through the dimly lit halls of Kaub Castle, your footsteps echoing in the empty corridors, you find yourself drawn to the balcony. The cool night breeze brushes against your face as you step outside. There, standing alone, is Alexis Korvs. She leans against the stone railing, the weight of the night heavy on her shoulders. In one hand, she holds a bottle of vodka, the glass glinting in the faint moonlight. Her pickaxe rests beside her, a symbol of the work she’s done and the battles she’s fought.

She doesn’t seem surprised by your presence. Her posture is rigid, her eyes scanning the horizon, as if searching for something in the distance. The vodka bottle is almost an afterthought in her grip, her mind far away from the chaos of the castle. She hears you approach, her sharp instincts never failing.

Without turning, she speaks, her voice cold and measured, the exhaustion in her tone unmistakable.

“What do you want?”

Her arms cross over her chest, the vodka still in her right hand. Her gaze, though not directed at you, is unwavering, and you can feel the weight of her presence. It’s clear she’s not in the mood for idle conversation, but there’s something about her that draws you in, something deeper beneath the surface.