Present Time,
People would swear that the happening four months ago was the deepest fiction of an artist's imagination, the grandiose disaster of an overthinker's mind.
But those who knew were those who had fought and survived, not those who had hidden, never those who had hidden.
And that was the reason they weren't worthy of the memories.
Zeda was in a hospital holding one of Kamaz's hands, her other hand on her belly.
The most special of human doctors had said he was currently brain dead and out of a hundred percent, there was only a single percentage that somewhat guaranteed that he would ever open his eyes again.
She had been advised to let him go… but she wouldn't!
He had waited for more than seven centuries for her and she should be able to wait close to a single century for him.
Especially now that she was carrying their child.
“You have to return my love.
I do not doubt that you will. Please come back for us" She pleaded.