as he takes that in. his eyes seem to see all the way there already. emotions go through him. exhilaration mixing with terror of the demon he can't turn away from. he nods slowly.
absolutely motionless. the crate beside his head moves. the officer's boot is visible through a widening crack. an argument in vietnamese is heard heating up.
his eyes cold, looking at co.
his eyes ablaze, face crusted with dried mud and sweat.
grimacing from the blow. there are board red welts over both collarbones, oozing blood in places.
as he looks up. his eyes seem like diamond drills. there is such determination born of rage in his expression that podovsk stops. takes a step back. snaps his fingers.
facing the soviet leviathan, clear-eyed, in the void way, as they say. it will be a battle of one stroke. he waits. feeling his breathing. feeling the ship like an extension of himself.