He dreamt of his mother singing a song to him. Outside, Snow gently fell from the sky. His mother held him close to her chest. The fireplace burned with a passionate blaze. He didn’t want to wake up. The snow outside accelerated, transforming into a great blizzard, but the house stood strong. The fire burned on. His mother wore the same kind smile he’s sure she’d always given him. The words of the song she was singing were in Russian. Nikolai didn’t recognize the song.

Nikolai didn’t recognize the room he woke up in. It looked like a bedroom, only much more bare. The room size compared to the amount of furniture inside it made it look huge. It only had a bed and a desk with a chair. The walls were bare and the sheets of the bed were beige. There were three doors, one thinner than the rest, all white. Nikolai thought he might get sick from seeing so much of one color.

That’s right, he thought, I’m already sick, aren’t I?

Vertigo hit him as soon as he sat up in bed. Nikolai held the wall, building up his strength until he felt well enough to move again. Once the nausea wore off, he walked towards the desk. There was a small note written in crude handwriting, most likely written by Lara.

Take a shower in door to right. Clothes are in small door to left. Behind is the exit.

Showering brought new thoughts to his mind. They were curious thoughts rather than the pessimistic monologue that usually looped in his head. He wondered how he had slept for two months and not lost any body fat. His hair had stayed the same length as well.

There was one thing he could do to check if this whole mess was real. If it was there Nikolai would go along with whatever these guys said. He wouldn’t believe them completely, of course, but if they had that much power over him, it’d be best to follow their direction. If he had to listen to a furry girl and her leader to survive, then so be it.

Nikolai stepped out of the shower and covered himself with a towel. He looked at himself in the mirror. His face had been flushed from the cold of the water. He could've sworn he was more blushy than usual, but he ignored it. Nikolai pulled his hair up and turned so that he could see his neck, and there it was, the proof of surgery. On his neck was the Roman numeral for 6, VI.

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