Nothing about the Shadowrun had been simple. Molchan had been taken by a Strzyga
sniper, Obel was still singed from the prince's ice, and as the stealthed Havoc
flew through the forest Ivashko examined the artifact they had been paid so much
to extradite from the night kingdoms.

At the controls Srinek's mind are all a tumble, it was only a scratch, and
despite Ivashko's warnings, it cannot be enough to kill me. The white Upyr is
the weakest of their kind, with barely a drop of princely blood. It's only a
scratch, its not enough. I'm going to be fine.

As Ivashko turns the bear's heart over and over in his hands, its deep red veins
still pulsing, he fails to notice Srinek has left the controls. As his neck
breaks he dreams once more of the golden towers of Petersburg, and the darkness
left behind at Paparotno.

In the magical wastelands of the de-militarised zone, the wreckage of the copter
burns, the forest has reclaimed its own, and the bear once more stirs…..