“Ah, Vich, you’re here. I was just about to send Anissa to get you.” Entering the kitchen, he witnessed the sight of his adoptive mother juggling between different plates. He didn’t understand how or why she used so many tools, but he never questioned it. He knew that cooking was a passion of hers. He couldn’t even cook for himself so all he could do was appreciate the sight before him.

“Do you need any help, mother?” he said, struggling to follow her movements.

“No need, go take your place next to Anissa,” she said, never turning to meet his gaze, "I’m almost done."

Not wanting to disturb her concentration, he carefully walked around her, reaching the dining room. It was by far the most gracious room of the house. Golden linings everywhere, old paintings on the walls, and at the center of it all, a table adorned with odd patterns representing the events of an ancient battle.

“Brother!” said the small Anissa. Seeing her glimmering eyes, Slava smiled, in turn shifting his gaze to the other man in the room. He had dark brown hair and a full beard. His brown eyes were sharp and pierced through everything they came across. He was reading a paperback book, a rarity in this era. "Война и миръ", it was called, "War and Peace", he loved Russian books. Slava couldn't stand them, they on;y made his pain worse. It was probably another historical record.

“Take a seat, son,” he said, looking up, his deep voice reverberating throughout the room. Nodding expressionlessly, Slava complied.

A few seconds passed before he spoke again.

“Have you seen any of the books I’ve added to your collection?” He did notice, but he honestly took no interest. He couldn't care less about historical works.

"I have, but I've been quite busy with my studies…" Slava didn't get to finish his words when the General interrupted him.

"Vich, you should take this more seriously, those books are far more important than whatever you are studying right now." Taking the time to chew through his food, he continued. "We have to learn from the mistakes of our past in order to not repeat them in the future," he said, a grave expression on his face.

Slava was screaming internally, he was trying his best not to show his anger. He couldn't believe this over-glorified tyrant would actually dare insult what he spent day and night working on. He was about to retort when he heard a voice coming from behind him.

"Today on the menu is wild lamb, courtesy of our little Anissa." Seeing a large plate lingering over his head out of the corner of his eye, he ducked to the side. Extending before him, the pair of arms revealed a plate full of succulent meat. The smell was even more wonderful.

"Yeah, Pa helped me hunt with my suit today," said Anissa. Her small eyes were glimmering.

"I thought those areas were restricted," Slava said, glancing away from the meal.

"Indeed, they are." the General replied, meeting his gaze. "But you used to go there all the time when you were younger." He took another bite," I don't see the problem." Hearing this Slava stopped eating, shocked. "Young man, you thought you could step into militarily restricted areas without me knowing about it?" He laughed. "No need to worry, all is safe, and everything is calculated to make sure that the ecosystem is preserved."

It was true, as soon as he got access to a suit, he'd started sneaking out. Before the military, that's all he had. He didn't think he'd get caught and successful escapes reinforced that idea. But now that he thought about it, his disappearances were quite obvious.

Recovering from his trance, he met the admiring gaze of his sister. Feigning ignorance, he reached to pat her on the head.

"Son, you still have to read those books I got you. ‘The Drop of the Tsaritsa Bomb’, ‘The Great Frost of Europe’, ‘The Fall of the Kremlin’, ‘The Atlantic Wars’, ‘The Advent of the Second Cold War’. Just to name a few, these days kids don’t even read anymore.” he sighed, “I don’t care how you read them, have that robot assistant read them if you must, but those are far more important than anything you might be working on. Especially if what you are working on might lead us down the same paths.”

Of course, he knew about the bomb that had almost started a nuclear war, how it lead to the collapse of the European ecosystem and how it eventually led to the creation of the Gōnghuì, The Union, the hell-like place he once called home. He didn't need a damned book to tell him that. He spent countless hours and sleepless nights for a chance to go back. He was so close and now this geezer was telling him to give up? Feeling the tension building up, the girl grabbed onto her brother's sleeve.

"Vich… Uhm'', not knowing what to say Anissa spoke the first words that came to mind with a worried smile on her face. "How are your drawings…" She didn't get the chance to finish as she was interrupted by the sound of a fork hitting the floor.

"Mom?" said Anissa, glancing to the side, her gaze full of worry.

"Des, dear, are you alright?" The general chimed in, raising his eyebrow.

Turning around Slava was faced with the sight of his adoptive mother hunched over, grasping her tattooed hand.

"I'm alright, I just think I cut myself earlier. Forgive me, I'll be taking my leave, Loyd." She stood up. "I'm not feeling well. Could you take care of our guest? I'm sorry Vich." she said looking at Slava with her usual smile.

"I hope you recover, mother," he said. He was troubled but didn't want to show it. He had never seen her make a mistake, not to mention cutting herself.

"Don't worry, we'll take care of the rest." Her husband chimed in, a rarely seen soft smile on his face.

After she left, the room fell into silence. Anissa had worry written all over her face, while the General sternly ate his meal.

"Her nightmares have been getting worse lately, he suddenly said. "She's been unable to sleep for quite a while. She's been quite reclusive."

"That's why we were so happy when she said she'd invited you," said Anissa, her teary gaze meeting his.

Nightmares? He had never heard of this. From what he'd remembered, she'd always been the healthiest woman he'd known.

"Since when?" he retorted, meeting the old man's gaze.

"She always had them. The war scarred her quite a bit. We always did our best to hide it but lately, it's been getting worse." He massaged his temples. "I knew they shouldn't have sent her. I should've gone instead." To Slava's knowledge, the last place she was deployed was New Petrograd, where she…

"Wait, but isn't that…" not letting Slava finish, he interrupted him.

"Yes, but don't worry about it, when she came back, she held onto you for dear life. It was her choice and I would've done the same." Sighing, he continued. "Anyways, let's not talk about this, Anissa, why don't you tell him what you've been up to?"

Slava was in shock. While he listened absentmindedly to Anissa's tales, his mind was spinning. How could it be? Was it possible for their nightmares to be linked, did she notice, did she want to share it with him? Was that why she invited him this time? No that didn't make any sense.

"Hey, Vich! Are you listening?" His eyes crossing hers, he blinked. "Pa told you not to worry, okay? So listen to me," said Anissa pulling his arm.

"Yeah, you're right," he sighed. "So what was it about the new suit he gifted you?" Hearing him, she smiled. Their exchanges continued for a while before the old man spoke.

"Alright It's getting late, little lady, you should get ready for bed." He had closed his old crumbling book and was now staring at Anissa.

"But Pa…" she said, her gaze pleading for him to change his mind.

"Anissa, what are the three components of training?" He grunted.

"Exercise, nutrition, and rest," she said disgruntledly.

"Then off you go." This was surprising to Slava, he had rarely seen his little sister opposing her father. Even if she wanted to stay with him, this was unusual.

"But I…", she frowned. It really did seem like she had something to say.

"Don't worry kiddo I'll take care of it" Hearing this, Anissa's frown disappeared, she said her goodbyes and left. With nothing holding him here anymore, Slava was also about to leave when he heard someone call his name.

"Vich, would you mind helping me clean up?" Turning around, Slava masked his shock. It was the first time he had asked him to do something. Usually, he would just order him around.

"Of course not, father." He replied almost instinctively.

When they reached the kitchen plates in hand, the General spoke.

"Son, I'd like to ask you for a favor. Could you stay for the night? I know you don't like this place much, but I think Despira would love to send you off herself."

It took him some time to come up with a reply. He wanted to go back to work, but he had to admit he was worried for his mother. Not to mention her current state, he also felt guilty. He wanted to ask her…

"Sure," he said, not finishing his thought.

An expression of shock flashed across the old man's face, but it soon disappeared and they silently got back to work.

Once they were done, Slava wished his father a good night and left for his room.

After carefully locking the door, Slava laid down on his bed. Raising his hand, he was about to start training, when his eyelids caught up to him.