Konrad didn't realize he had more memories than he should have.
Not at first, at least.
He was too busy wiping all that brain matter off his machete.
Then, he had an unconscious Captain to carry up on those rickety stairs.
"Yeah, nope," he shook his head. "I'm not doing that."
Those rusted steps were already creaking when only one person stepped on them. There was no way they wouldn't fall to their deaths if he put their combined weights on them.
He decided to kneel by his friend instead to check his pulse, and—
"Please, wake up soon," he whispered.
Still, when Dmitry did, he almost jumped into that bottomless pit behind him.
The scene had freaked him out.
Like a creepy doll, the Captain's eyes fluttered open, immediately standing at attention.
And Konrad couldn't help but check if that brain was actually dead, or—
Dmitry shuddered, looking confused, and he had to catch him before he fell.
"W-what happened?" Dmitry asked, still shaking. "Did I pass out?"
"Um, yes," Konrad mumbled, still clutching his hand in case he tried something funny. "You passed out completely on your own, mate. I had nothing to do with it whatsoever."
"Fuck," the Captain moaned, rubbing his jaw. "You don't look like it, but you pack quite a punch."
Oh, so he figured it out after all?
"So that thing wasn't dead yet?" he asked, taking a look around. "And where's my gun?"
"You mean Sokolov's rifle?" Oh boy, would he be mad if they returned without it? "I'm afraid you dropped it, too. But not to worry. One of the zombies had the same brand and type."
Wait. Hold on.
"How do you know that?" Dmitry asked before he could.
How indeed?
"I don't know. It might be a little rusty. But if we don't insist on the same type, there's a semi-auto shotgun stashed in the first storage room. Mint condition. With a box of 12-gauge ammo."
"The one where the Snork jumped us?" the Captain raised an eyebrow. "We never checked that."
Yep. They did not.
But he still knew it for some reason.
"How long was I out?" Dmitry asked. "And did I lose anything else important?"
He patted himself down.
"A few components, but they were not important," Konrad said to comfort him. "Korolev put a few redundant items as replacements on that list in case we wouldn't find one or two."
That old scientist knew his stuff.
Judging from the shopping list he gave them, the Psy Shield he came up with was much more advanced than the one that—um. Hold on. The researchers who made the brain came up with?
How the hell would he know that?!
Konrad finally realized he remembered things he shouldn't have.
And he wasn't exactly happy about it.
'I'm only trying to help,' the voice offered with a shrug.
You know. In case voices could do that.
That brain definitely could not, since it was already dead.
Konrad confirmed it. The voice confirmed it—one hundred percent.
But then what? How? Why?!
"You okay?" the Captain asked, and it seemed like it was his turn to freak out.
Of course, still not as much as Konrad.
This very helpful third point of view inside his mind could measure it with ease.
"I am not okay—question mark?" he said, feeling like he was losing his mind.
But it was the exact opposite.
He gained another.
"D-did that brain thing, like, took over you, too?!" Dmitry asked, reaching for the weapon he had lost already. Thank the spirits he did, because there was no way he could explain this.
'Let me do it then,' the voice volunteered. 'But only if you don't mind.'
So very polite. Konrad had decided to give it the green light.
He wanted an explanation, too, after all, more than anything.
"When I struck it down with my machete, the blade created a direct connection between us."
The one speaking was Konrad, but he wasn't the one who talked.
"The brain transcended its flesh—or rather, his grey matter—and projected his memories into me. But it's completely harmless. He couldn't take over my body even if he wanted."
Couldn't he? While using him as a mouthpiece?!
Well, that was good to know.
"No, because by doing so, he'd erase those very memories that created him in the first place."
"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?" the Captain asked, keeping his distance.
"He's trying to convince me, I guess," Konrad noted, feeling more schizophrenic than ever.
Dmitry scowled for a while, scratching his stubble.
"So you now know everything that the brain has ever known?"
"I, uh—yeah, more or less," Konrad nodded once the voice confirmed it for him. "It's a bit messy, though. Like watching a movie made by aliens. Not everything makes sense to me."
'Ask, and I'll explain,' the voice—no, the brain, or the memories of the brain?—offered.
He had to decide on a name for it soon. But first—
"Why did you project yourself in my head in the first place?" he took him up on that offer.
'Because that was the only way I could survive. And let's say, you're worthy of my presence.'
Memories of his magic and reincarnation flooded his mind.
And sure, he had an interesting second life, but—
"What if I don't want you here?!" Konrad asked. "You're an evil, lab-grown brain who turned harmless Stalkers into zombies. And you tried to kill my friend and me, too."
His mind remained silent for a long while, and he almost thought the voice had left him.
'Looking at it from your perspective, guess I was evil,' he admitted a minute later. 'But I didn't have a choice. Those researchers didn't give birth—they created a tool they could also destroy.'
Ugh. That was too heavy a load to carry.
But he couldn't turn away from it.
Especially since, without magic, he had no idea how to purge it from his head.
'I'll be good, promise,' the brain thought. 'Will help you with everything I can, and won't bother you when you want to be alone. But think of the possibilities. Two heads are better than one.'
Although Konrad didn't grow a second one.
And his head started to feel cramped.
What would happen if he returned to Kasserlane, and his wives used telepathy?
'Nothing. I wouldn't get in the way,' the voice claimed. 'Think of me as an intelligent personal assistant. Use me when you need me, and I won't bug you when you don't.'
That didn't sound half bad, even if the marketing was super sketchy.
Taking a peek at this thing's memories, he was pretty smart, though.
And through it, Konrad could understand things he knew nothing about.
Like, what was important on the list Korolev gave them, and which components were fillers?
And since he couldn't figure out how to get his magic back or return to his homeworld—
If this thing could, he might as well give it a chance.
'You'd throw me in the deep right away?' the voice asked. 'The first time I heard about magic was through your memories. But it's a deal. Give me three days, and I'll figure it out.'
"Deal," Konrad said, mentally shaking hands with the brain. "Now, let's get out of here."