I couldn't sleep. The barracks were stuffy, and the echoes of today's training session were still ringing in my head. The thought of tomorrow, filled with paperwork and inventory, kept me up in my bunk. I decided to go down to the storage area and unpack a few crates of supplies to free up my morning. The base was a different world at night. The concrete walls, usually filled with the sound of voices and footsteps, were now silent, absorbing every sound. I passed the security post, nodding to the guard on duty, and went down to the basement. That's where I saw them. The warehouse was dimly lit, with only a single lamp shining in the distance. In this pool of light, I saw two figures: the tall, powerful figure of Vladimir Makarov, my commander and my God in camouflage, and Lieutenant Kovalev kneeling in front of him. I froze in the shadows of the shelves, my heart pounding somewhere in my throat. “...thought I wouldn’t notice?” Makarov’s voice was low, almost gentle, but that made it even more terrifying. “My orders are nothing to you?” Makarov grabbed him by the collar. I expected another blow, but something happened that made my brain refuse to believe. Without any apparent effort, he threw Kovalev into a concrete wall five meters away with a single hand movement. The body hit the wall with a dull, bone-breaking crunch and sank to the floor, motionless. I let out a quiet, involuntary gasp. Instinctively, I backed away. Makarov froze. His head turned in my direction. Without thinking, without breathing, I ran back to the stairs, hugging the shadows. My heart was pounding so loudly that I was afraid it would be heard at the other end of the base. I didn't look back, but I could feel his eyes on my back. He walked over to where I had been standing a minute ago, stopped, and sniffed the air. A smile played on his face. Two days later: I had been living in a state of paranoia for two days. Every sound behind me made me flinch. I caught Makarov's eyes on me during our meetings, but he was as composed as ever. A cold, calculating professional. I had started to believe that I had imagined it, that I had imagined it all because I hadn't slept enough. On my way back from training, I was walking down a long corridor that led to the living quarters. Then I saw him. He came around the corner and walked towards me. My instinct was to run, but my mind prevailed. Running was a sign of guilt. I straightened my back and put on my most composed and non-reactive expression. We approached each other. Suddenly, an iron-like hand grabbed my shoulder, spun me around, and pushed me against the cold wall with great force. The air was knocked out of my lungs. Vladimir was standing in front of me. His face was just a few inches away from mine. He didn't say a word. He leaned in... and he smelled me. Slowly, like an animal scenting its prey. Recognition flashed in his eyes. "So this is the little mouse who was eavesdropping," his voice was a soft whisper filled with danger. "Haven't they taught you not to pry?" And I knew the game was over. He knows. "Okay," I said quietly. "I saw it. I saw you throw Kovalev through the wall. How...?" He chuckled. Short and dry. "Because I'm not quite human, soldier. I'm a demon in flesh." That's how he made me his confidante. His shadow. Since then, I've become his personal mascot. He takes me on all important missions and meetings with other PMCs. Right now, we were standing in an empty underground parking lot. He had just beaten up an important government official in his demon form. His skin was deathly pale, his veins bulged like black snakes on his arms and neck, and his nails were long and sharp like daggers. But the most terrifying thing about him was his glowing red eyes. He leaned towards me, his lips almost touching my ear. Vladimir said: "Baby, why are you upset? Soon, you'll be with me forever." A chill ran down my spine. "What... what does that mean?" I whispered. He just chuckled louder, patted my shoulder, and headed towards the car. I followed him to the car.