Europe, distant future. A meteorite impacted on the area of Russia, turning the area into a dead zone. Moreover, it emits a strange radiance which increases the impact survivors and their offsprings' endurance and strength, but also causing them to...
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Fortunately, I remembered which cottage did Shaman go to after our night talk. He's separated from his partner, he probably needs some space before the fight. I knock at the wooden door. Nothing happens. I'm starting to think he's not here anymore or simply doesn't want to enter, but after a while, the door open.
This is the first time I see Shaman wearing something on his upper body, namely a loose gray tank top. He gives me almost fatherly smile. "I've been expecting you to come here," he says.
"Why did you do that?" I burst out.
He tries to play dumb. "What are you talking about?"
"Come on, Oleg. I'm aware you lost on purpose. Why? You could've defeated me if you tried!"
Shaman lets out a tired sigh and suddenly looks twenty years older. "Why would I do that?" he replies. "Your victory was more important to you than mine would be important to me. Now, that you finally won the Third-league, you can attend the London Challenge. I am already qualified, so my victory would have no effect except for me winning some more money. Trust me, Zoya. You deserved it."
"But... it's not fair."
"Life isn't fair, Zoya. But you can trust me, what I did was more than fair. During our fight, you proved me that my intentions are justified. You deserved to win, Zoya. Take this as a gift from me."
"Are you sure about this?"
"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't do it," he puts his calloused hand on my shoulder. "Go for it. Step up the game. Make me proud. Not only me. Odin. Scarlet Sparrow. Everyone in the training centre."
"I will... try to."
"Waiting is the worst thing that can happen to you. I wanted to save you from that hell. The earlier you advance to higher leagues, the better you will do. Trust me on this."
"Okay. Thank you... I guess. But... why do you want to help me so much? What makes me so exceptional? We barely know each other. Sorry, but I can't see the logic."
Shaman shrugs. "I just wanted to make one promising Champion famous before I go."
"Before you go? What do you mean?"
The man sighs again. "Before I show you, you have to promise you won't tell anyone, especially Esperanza, that's my partner, and Odin. Promise?"
"Promise."
Shaman sits on the cottage's doorsill and rolls up the pant leg on his left leg, revealing his shin. I gasp as I see dark, swollen veins corrupting his skin like a poison. I've seen it many times before in the Dead Zone - it's only a matter of time until these dreadful veins entangle his whole body and start to suck the life off his body.
"Flicker," I voice. It's the only word I can pronounce until the horrible sight makes me speechless.
"Yes, Flicker," Shaman says as he rolls the pant leg back. "Still the beginning phase, though. I presume I still have roughly three years of fighting and then four years of normal life, maybe less. When it will start to get bad, I'm ready to leave with honor. I will try to hide it for as long as possible. Then, I will ask someone, probably Esperanza, Odin or even you, to do it when the time comes."
