[Salone]

Lev stepped inside the APC, surveying their ragtag group. The Nephilim seemed to instantly sap any sort of positive atmosphere that might inhabit the APC. A mood of somberness and surrender seemed to feel the metal casket they were riding in. Lev himself felt almost broken. It was as if his will was being bent against him, like he had lost a mental battle before he even knew he was fighting it.

Hanging his head, he unslung his Mosin-Nagant from his back. He picked off bits of flesh and blood with only slight amusement. After the absorption of the Saint's powers, Lev had been let in to Na'lsa's mind as well. They each could see what the other witnessed. They were one, and they were separate. And if his separate half was going to continue to inhabit his body, it was going to learn proper maintenance.

He unscrewed a long rod from the underside of his gun, withdrawing it from the stock. Tearing off a small piece of clothing, he wrapped the shred around the end. From a pocket he produced a beaten up can of oil, pouring a bit on to the scrap. That was the thing about the Nagant. It was powerful, but each shot was corrosive. If left uncleaned for even a small amount of time, the corrosion would spread until it had overtaken the weapon. It could not be let inside. It must be cut out.

As he cleaned, he looked up. He eyed the Nephilim, giving him a slight frown. After catching his eye, he spoke in a dull tone, as if discussing the weather.

"You are corrosion. Inside barrel. You spread, left unchecked. But I watch you. Your corrosion not spread here. I will clean you like I clean rifle, polish you out. Remember that."