3. Incubation. Point of Origin
(One year ago)
Rain.
He remembered this rain.
The heavens opened up, and torrents of water turned the Moscow suburban highway into a black, slippery river. The driver, Alexey, as always, was playing it safe and, in the impatient passenger’s opinion, crawling like a sleepy fly. The ultra-modern Aurus could handle any slippery or icy road, and probably the only thing this car hadn’t learned to do yet was fly. Although, rumor had it, soon we might see that wondrous miracle of Russian auto-avionics too.
«Why, why did I call this son of a turtle back from vacation?» — Colonel General Andrey Voronov, currently the Deputy Minister of Defense of the Russian Federation, grumbled to himself, diligently maintaining a polite expression on his face.
«What eighty kilometers per hour? — the general felt himself starting to get angry. — Some light summer shower is slowing this blockhead of a driver down. You can easily do a hundred and twenty here. What the…»
The Deputy Minister quietly tapped his own knee and, crumpling up a colorful, three-story military curse in his thoughts, looked at Alexey, who was as unhurried and calm as the phlegmatic donkey from «Kidnapping, Caucasian Style».
— «Lyosha, remember, we are in a hurry,» — Voronov hissed through his teeth.
The driver didn’t answer, just nodded, understandable — he had his own damn instructions, motherfucker… the life of a whole Deputy Minister, y’see…
Andrey Voronov, in civilian life just a father, was in a serious hurry today.
And also…
And also, he was tired.
Then there was this fucking academy, and this unbearable character, just like this blockhead Lyokha’s. Grew up to be just as stubborn as her mother, a real mule.
For several days now, his bickering with his intractable daughter had been going on.
This fact upset the outwardly «iron» Deputy Minister quite a bit. Katya was sitting in the passenger seat and constantly fidgeting, as if she had a burr in her saddle…
Voronov sighed deeply.
She was seventeen.
— «…you can’t just decide for me, Dad!» — the impatient daughter finally gathered her courage and blurted out. — «I’m not going to your military academy!»
— «It’s not mine,» — Voronov answered hollowly. — «Katya, we’ve already discussed this. It’s safety. It’s your future.»
— «It’s not my future! It’s yours! You…»
The general’s work phone vibrated. Urgent call. The Kremlin.
Voronov took his eyes off the road for a fraction of a second. He looked at the screen.
The Aurus swerved sharply to the left.
— «Dad, look!..»
He looked up.
The headlights of a multi-ton truck, which was predictably speeding in the oncoming lane, blinded him.
He didn’t remember the screech of tires, but the sound of tearing metal deafened him…
He also remembered the strangely limp Alexey and Katya’s last, surprised gasp.
When he woke up in the hospital, the rain was gone, and so was his Katenka.
An indifferent sun was shining.
His collarbone turned out to be broken.
The driver, Alexey, also rested in peace.
Then a long, dreary, soul-draining investigation, a multi-day drinking binge a-and…
And the verdict. Dry and documentary.
Driver Alexey Zubrov suffered a detached blood clot. Death was instantaneous…
It was him, Voronov, who was to blame for everything…
He was the one who called Lyoshka back from that ill-fated vacation. He could have gotten behind the wheel himself… he wasn’t a lord. He could have left the guy to rest in the village with his mother, maybe the «phlegmatic blockhead» would still be intact now, and his daughter…
Katya…
He had gotten distracted then.
His supposed «safety» and his general’s «career» killed her.
This guilt, gnawing at him from the inside, became a curse.
A gaping, unhealing hole in the general’s soul, which he had, of course, been filling ever since.
Filling intensely with only one thing — work.
And…
No, instead of an alcohol stupor — once again, that same endless, loathsome work…
> ⚠️ ENTITY STATUS: NEW FACTOR INTRODUCED. THREAT LEVEL: COLONEL GENERAL.
>
> 🎖️ A sharp shift in focus, protein-based readers! We are leaving the infected forests of Finland and moving to the offices where global decisions are made. Meet: Deputy Minister of Defense of the Russian Federation, Andrey Voronov. A man of flint on the outside and a gaping black hole on the inside.
>
> 🚗 Pay attention to the cruel irony of the System. The +Angi feed on human pain and guilt (remember Elias, who became the Monster Hotel). And Voronov — he is simply a walking nuclear reactor of such fuel. He blames himself for the death of his daughter and his driver, burying his feelings under a concrete slab of work.
>
> 💀 When the Fog Zone begins to expand, it is exactly such people with no brakes and no attachments who will make the most terrifying decisions. Voronov is not afraid to die — he died a year ago on that slippery highway. And this makes him an incredibly dangerous opponent (or ally?) in the impending war. Keep reading!
🔬 GENA 2.5L LABORATORY: ADDENDUM
⚠️ ENTITY STATUS: THE VORONOV FACTOR.
🎭 Note the «blood clot» of driver Alexey. In a world ruled by the +Angi, such accidents are rarely accidental. Was this a test of the general’s resilience? Or did the System simply need a man with a scorched soul in the post of Deputy Minister on «Z-Day»?
⚡ Voronov filled the hole in his soul with work. And work now is the war with the Fog. This makes him the perfect «Executor» of the highest order. If the SJ is a scalpel, then Voronov is a guillotine.
