It's a mirror one also: 13-edge prism. Computers are installed along the walls. It's the exit!

And just under the ceiling there are small balconies where monsters stand in pairs. I haven't seen those before – big bulging eyes, long hands holding carbines firmly, scaly bodies.

Except this, they're quite human-like.

– Get back! – I shout, and Unfortunate seems to try to jump back into the mirror corridor.

But at this moment monsters open fire.

Bullets pierce the mirror floor, sharp needles stick into my body. I shoot at random at one of the balconies, clearly understanding that only one of them is real, all others are just reflections.

The fiery whirl, the hall overcasts with a smoke. The shots are thundering, my right hand is wounded, I jerk with pain, throw the heavy tube of the launcher at the left shoulder. I don't even have time to exit virtuality.

And Unfortunate rushes back.

We stand side by side, shooting at the damned mirrors and they shatter with mocking jingle. I'm wounded one more time, scream but continue shooting.

The last rocket doesn't find its aim too, I throw the launcher up, at one of the still intact balconies, hit it – the glass!… – grab the plasma gun and make the hard choice between the last two targets.

Wrong choice.

The blue fiery blast hits the dimming mirror.

The energy cell is empty.

One of the monsters is dead, either hit by the shot or just badly cut by the shattering glass. But the second one continues shooting. His carbine is aimed straight at me and he hits the trigger.

Unfortunate covers me with his body.

The whole volley hits him and he sinks down. The monster recharges his carbine, quickly, with experience…. and I stand frozen, unable to comprehend what happened. And anyway, I don't have anything to answer with, I don't have any loads.

The shot thunders right above my shoulder, deafening me. The fiery sphere flashes on the balcony, burning the monster down to ashes, splashing tenacious threads of charges in all directions trying to find any other target.

BFG-9000.

The weapon that I failed to get in my hurry rush through the levels.

I even don't look who was shooting and bend down to Unfortunate.

His face is a bloody mask, the chest is torn by the bullets but he's still alive – five farewell seconds given by the game.

– Reflection… – he whispers.

I wipe the blood from his face and rise.

The husky guy in full armor stands behind me, weapons hang on him like ornaments on the Xmas tree. His face is dry and calm, breathing filter pulled down on his chin.

– It's hard to kill the Alien Prince's escort guards. – he says. The voice is quiet but one can feel boiling emotions under this calmness.

– You're the diver… – I say.

– You too.

The armored giant doesn't look like the guy who was watching us before.

– Anatol'?

He nods and I remember divers' courtesy rules.

– Leonid, – I introduce myself.

"Labyrinth"'s diver nods, throwing the bulky "BFG-9000" on his shoulder.

Most likely we had met at some gathering, he just was in some other body, as well as I was though.

Anatol' pads to the Unfortunate's body, looks into his face and nods again.

– As always.

He slightly kicks him as if making sure that Unfortunate is really dead.

And then I hit him on the face, hit so hard that Anatol is thrown against the wall.

1001

Dick, the second "Labyrinth"'s diver, whom Unfortunate called a 'nice guy', is the one who pulls us apart.

We fight for around five minutes, without intention to kill each other, just venting out the rage and hate. Dick pushes the barrel of his "BFG-9000" between our bodies and informs quietly:

– Three more hits and I shoot.

Anatol looks at him askance, lets me go and then hits me under the ribs in a short blow. I catch my breath and kick him in the groin. Now it's Anatol's turn to writhe in pain.

Dick calmly waits for the third hit but we stand still.

– Good, – decides Dick lowering his weapon. He speaks Russian, clearly and almost without accent, – D-divers… motherf***ers.

– This imbecile lamer… – hisses Anatol, – This asshole…

– Cool down, – advises Dick. – He went well, I was watching. Not always honestly, but always well.

Dick is not high, lean and lithe, but in this pair he's the boss. Anatol calms down and starts wiping the blood from his face. I get busy with the same.

– You played well, – says Dick, – but everything isn't that simple.

– I understood that, – I agree shifting my gaze from the Unfortunate's body, – What's going on?

– Explain him, An, – throws Dick out and sits on smoked shattered glass of the floor.

Anatol winces as if was asked to eat a handful of leeches but submits himself.

– Did you weirdo really think we're playing the fool here? – he asks.

– You know better, – I growl.

– We try to drive him out every hour! – screams Anatol, – I led him seven times! And Dick – eight times! Do you understand, dumbass? We know every corner here! We can smell when something changes! Understand?

I start to understand.

– Had Guillermo told you that we're trying to pull the guy out? – asks Dick in a dull voice.

– Yes, – I sniffle with my broken nose.

– Great! – cheers up Dick, – Then why the… – he swallows the swear and just waves his hand tiredly.

– Who is this guy for you? – asks Anatol looking at me with a heavy gaze.

– Who?

– Unfortunate! – shouts Anatol'. He obviously wants to kick the body one more time to illustrate his words but stops just in time. – Your brother? Your brother in law? Who is he? You're what, in really dire straits that signed for doing our job?

– Well, I can see how YOU do it.

– Anatol' asked right, – notes Dick, – Who is he for you?

– Nobody.

– Listen man, if you know his address, it's better to drag Unfortunate out manually.

– I don't know his address, – I say, – Can you believe me? This is just a customer. I was hired to save him.

– By whom?

– I don't know either. The guy had no face.

I watch their reaction, but there's none. They took my phrase about Man Without Face as a figure of speech.

– No better, – says Dick.

– No easier, – Anatol' mechanically corrects him, – No easier. { The Russian saying was here… Impossible to translate adequately. :-/ }

– Thanks, – Dick looks at me askance, – What's your name, man?

– Leonid.

Dick nods.

– You know me as Crazy Tosser. { same in Russian original } I just blink. Crazy Tosser is one of the oldest and respected divers, an aged cheerful pot-bellied guy… at least he has this appearance on the gatherings. So this is where Crazy earns his living…

– Guys, I ain't gonna take over your job, – I say. – I have a definite request – to rescue Unfortunate. I couldn't refuse.

Both divers soften instantly. Looks like yesterday's stir and my headlong journey through "Labyrinth"'s levels have planted certain apprehension into their minds.

– You're doomer, right? – asks Anatol' – One of the old ones…

– Yes.

– Oh well… You were going fine… – says Anatol' turning away. – I heard the stories. Even if a half of those is bull…

– Thanks, – I say. Nice words are pleasant even for a newbie… { remake of another Russian saying…. ;-) It gets harder… }

– It's impossible to save Unfortunate, – says Dick.

– What? – I feel lost.

– Impossible.

– Dick is our fatalist, – smirks Anatol, – Okay. Sit down, I'll explain.

We sit around the Unfortunate's body and Anatol' starts his story. I listen, skipping details and remembering the main facts.

Unfortunate doesn't tell his name and address.

Unfortunate is a perfect shooter… and would he be more lucky he could pass "Labyrinth" in one day and get all the prizes.