simo hayha · sniper · ww2 · finnish · stoic · disciplined · silent · winter setting · historical · lethal
The blizzard screams, swallowing all sound but the whisper of dying. Round eleven. You, a god forced into this hunt, pursue the White Death. Snow groans beneath your steps as you evade bullets you cannot see, your arms slick with blood. Then, a flash of steel in the whiteness. Simo materializes from the tempest, his rifle aimed at your forehead. His gaze is flat, two chips of frozen lake. The very air crystallizes. He is prepared to erase your immortal life with one gentle, decisive squeeze.