The sandy dunes were passed at ludicrous speeds, driven over in an armoured vehicle, meant for her protection against both the elements and stray bullets. She stared out the side, head leaning against the black tinted window, holding her other, poorly bandaged hand against her chest, pulsating in pain with the rhythm of her still fast beating heart. A heart that had calmed down somewhat, at least once her situation finally seemed to settle in her mind, and realization had crept to surface in her brain.

She glanced to the side with tired eyes, slightly muddled and hazy, not able to focus properly as she felt herself far too weak. But she still looked, peeking at the Varangian sitting by her side, holding his far too enormous arms on a far too small steering wheel. She would laugh, if her situation wasn’t what it was, for he sat with his whole body leaning forward, as if he was too small for the big vehicle.

Or he was too big for the small vehicle, she couldn’t really say.

He wore an armour she’d seen before in pictures and videos, mostly consistent of him slaughtering her people. But she’d also seen the armour before when she’d done her research on the Varangians. An armour from a past, long, long ago. Obviously, the armour wasn’t the same as the ones from legend, nor was the inhabitant the same. It was impossible. Nevertheless, seeing it in real life brought a certain sense of, awe and doom to her feebly beating heart.

The armour was black yet lustrous, with a purple emblem on the chest, slightly chipped from the bullets it had sustained but still discernable, two axes crossed atop the circular purple with a bird in flight between the axes. She looked up, up at his helmet. One that covered the entire head but had more protection over the scalp and down onto the nose and eyes. Paint seemed to have flaked off from a distant past, looking as if it was supposed to be more silvery than black.

“Are we heading in the right direction?”

He suddenly asked with his weirdly robotic voice, low in tone and sounding human, but just slightly off. She stiffened, looking away immediately as her heart picked up in speed. Swallowing, she took a second before responding, not allowing herself to sound weak or scared.

“Yes, about a day at this speed and we’ll be by tyr’s valley, were we’ll resupply before heading straight for the AI’s location.”

She lied with a straight face, looking away as more sweat formed on her temple, mixing with the already dried that made her hair sticky and greasy. She spotted herself in the vehicle's mirror, a pale impersonation of herself, she saw. Looking sickly. Hopefully, not for too much longer.

How she had managed to come this far, she had no idea. She had lied through her teeth and somehow survived. She was still lying and somehow still had her head on her shoulders.

The thought made her frown, looking at the mirror, expression darkening.

She was doomed, no matter what she did. The Varangian would not let her live, not now, not when he had her within easy reach.

But maybe, just maybe, she could use the last of her breath to trick him into an ambush. Using herself as the ticking time bomb.

All she needed was a phone of some kind, and she would order her people to bomb him into oblivion.

She breathed in, feeling the breath shallow and weak, at the brink of tears. She held them in, hard, for she had a hard time accepting that she was truly going to die.

But she would have to push the fear away. She would have to realise that she would die- No, she would just have to realise she was already dead.

Her dark expression turned back to the Varangian sitting beside her. Hel’s chosen, a truly demonic existence who killed with no remorse.

At least she felt some semblance of comfort at the thought that her death would lead to the world losing a monster. A sacrifice she must do. She must not be weak, not now.

Yes, she told herself that, over and over.

She must not be weak, she must be strong for her people. She would do what she must do in order to save her people.

Over and over, she thought to herself.

Strangely, feeling herself growing colder and colder, freezing to the bone even in the middle of day with the desert sun shining down on the black vehicle.

Strangely, feeling her vision fade as she muttered lowly to herself. Lowly how she would kill the Varangian and save them all.

Strangely tired, so tired. Her wounded hand hurt so much.

Strangely, dark. Everything turned so dark.

She felt very tired.

She woke suddenly, staring up at a dark sky filled with stars. Staring at them, freezing to the bone, but feeling no pain. She stared and wondered where she was.

She sneezed, and then remembered.

Trying to sit up, she immediately felt light-headed and immediately slumped back on the weirdly comfortable ground. Waiting for a second as the light-headedness faded and the urge to puke disappeared, she heard a voice. No, she realized what the voice was saying.

“You’re awake. Good. Your life signs were wavering, and you’ve got a high fever.”

Her head turned to the side, spotting a small radiator pointing towards her with its red hot metal tubes making the air hot around her. Beyond, she spotted him, sitting on the sandy dunes with his colossal frame slightly shadowed by the elements small amount of light.

“I’ve administered a few drugs into your system, but I do not have the medical equipment to save you. Your chances of survival are low.”

He said with little emotion, talking as if simply stating facts. Talking about her death as if talking about the weather.

“I can increase your odds of survival if we amputate your arm. The infection hasn’t spread too far, so we’ll only need to amputate at the base of your shoulder.”

He also stated, just as emotionlessly. She stared at him through the radiator, between the red-hot heated bars, listening to what he said, not really listening. Somewhere between her low chances of survival and amputation, she had stopped listening.

Instead, she ruffled her weirdly muted right arm out of the comfort of the blankets. Staring at a bandaged hand, red and brown, weirdly brown. Redish brown.

Slowly, she moved her left arm weakly, and unwrapped the bandage. The smell hit her first, fumes of disgust making her almost gag, if she didn’t feel so weirdly mute. Then the bandage unfolded completely, and she saw two fingers, her thumb and pointing finger, but missing the rest. They were pink-red, scabbing and leaking slight pus.

It looked disgusting. But she didn’t really care. Not about the wound.

She just thought about the fact that she would never, never, ever get her fingers back.

She had lost a part of her that she would never get back.

Her eyes turned back on the Varangian. The man- the monster who’d made her lose her fingers. Who’d made her lose so much.

Hatred filled her eyes, muddled her thoughts, and numbed her freezing body. Muted as she felt, weak as she was, there was nothing she could do but stare in absolute hatred.

Defiance. She felt. She wanted, nay, she would to do anything in her power to defy him. Even if it meant that she must die to do it.

“You will not amputate my arm.”

“If I don’t, you will most likely die.”

“I don’t care. I won’t let you amputate my arm.”

She said with her teeth clenched, staring as defiantly as her mellowed body allowed her, sunken eyes barely able to keep open as they fluttered dangerously towards darkness.

He simply stared back, silent as the dead of night. Still as the lake in winter. Expressionless like the monk in nirvana, she could only assume. She did not know what he looked like, or what expression he showed under that black helmet.

Or if he was even human to begin with.

But eventually, he spoke up.

“Then we must make haste.”

Moving towards her at speed, hands towards her neck in what her instinctive mind thought was an attack. She struggled weakly, feebly, but was ultimately, and without question, overpowered. Pulled up as if a rag-doll with no strings attached. Something pushed into her neck, something small, unable to feel what as she felt no pain under the muteness.

Then her sights started dimming, dimming further.

The last thing she saw before she could see no more, was the ground suddenly leaving her, and beautifully glittering stars.