Chapter 2 – A “Perfect” Day
Railway Station – Morning Arrival
The massive railway complex in Moscow bustled with the usual activity of an ordinary morning. Workers moved quickly across the platforms, trains arrived and departed with the precision of a well-oiled machine. The station, that organism of steel and concrete, seemed to follow its course without deviation, as if it were designed never to stop.
Sunlight illuminated the long, straight tracks that vanished into the horizon, casting golden gleams across the metal. Moving carriages, passengers dragging suitcases, loudspeakers announcing destinations. The energy was constant. Familiar. Comfortable.
And yet… something in the air felt heavier than usual. A barely noticeable shift—like a subtle vibration that didn't belong in the routine.
Vik and Alexei walked together, exchanging the occasional joke, unaware of the tiny crack already forming on the surface of their day.
The world around them was dynamic. Vibrant. But that very life hid a premonition. Something was lurking—and no one knew it yet.
Station Lobby – Unexpected Encounter
As they approached the main lobby, a tall and slender man emerged from the crowd. His walk was slow, as if every step weighed more than it should.
His face bore the mark of chronic fatigue, the kind carved by a life submerged in endless repetition. He wore the same uniform as Vik and Alexei, but it was more worn and wrinkled—clearly much older.
With a deep voice, dragging his words like they were as heavy as his limbs, he addressed them.
"The boss wants to see you in his office."
Vik and Alexei exchanged a glance, confused. It was unusual to be called at this hour. Nothing typically disrupted the known rhythm of the shift's start.
"Now?" Alexei asked, his tone a mix of uncertainty and skepticism.
The man—Sergei—nodded faintly, expressionless. His eyes, dulled by routine, offered no explanation or comfort.
"Yeah… you know… work stuff," he added, in a hollow tone.
The look shared by Vik and Alexei needed no words. Something felt off—but not enough to set off alarms. Just a small discomfort, like a misstep on familiar ground.
Vik was the first to speak, forcing a small smile to break the tension.
"Alright, let's go then."
And with that, they started walking. The day, which had promised to be just another among thousands, had just fractured.
Just slightly. Barely noticeable.
But enough.
Hallway to the Boss's Office
The three of them walked down a long corridor, lined with smooth walls and flickering fluorescent lights that seemed uncertain whether to keep shining. The bustle of the station faded behind them, replaced by a silence that grew with every step.
Vik led the way. His posture was straight, firm, but a shadow had crept into his eyes that hadn't been there earlier. He felt something—though he couldn't say what.
Alexei walked beside him, arms crossed, his expression more serious than usual. He tried to maintain his relaxed demeanor, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his unease.
Behind them, Sergei walked like a ghost with nowhere to go. His steps were heavy, his breath nearly imperceptible. He didn't say a word the entire way.
He didn't need to. His mere presence was enough to saturate the air with uncomfortable calm.
The ceiling lights buzzed softly, as if the building itself were breathing with difficulty.
And though no one said it aloud, they all knew something about that perfect morning… no longer was.
Boss's Office – Tense Meeting
Vik and Alexei stopped in front of the closed door. The air felt different there, heavier, as if the entire station were holding its breath. The hallway light was dim and flickering, and the silence around them was not peaceful—but expectant.
They exchanged a brief glance. Neither said a word, but their faces spoke clearly: something was wrong.
Vik, calm as always, reached out to knock. His gesture was relaxed, almost automatic, like someone who had repeated the same motion countless times. But just before his knuckles touched the surface, a deep voice stopped him cold:
"Just come in already!"
The voice came from the other side of the door. It was harsh, authoritarian, and laced with a furious exhaustion, like someone teetering on the edge of losing control.
Vik and Alexei glanced at each other again—only for a second this time. There was no turning back.
The door creaked open, revealing a chaotic office.
Inside the Office – Organized Chaos
The office was a living mess. Stacks of papers piled haphazardly on desks, chairs, even the floor. A coffee cup with dregs teetered dangerously on the edge of a folder tower. In the corners, old electronics gathered dust beside forgotten reports.
The room smelled like stress.
At the center, an enormous desk sagged under the weight of accumulated routine. And behind it, a swivel chair faced away from the door. Only a gleaming bald spot could be seen, curved back, shining beneath the light streaming through the window.
The man on the phone didn't bother to look at the newcomers. His tone was low, grave, filled with restrained frustration.
"I'm warning you… fix this, or you're going down with me."
Vik and Alexei stood still, not daring to interrupt.
The air was so thick, it felt like even oxygen refused to circulate.
Every passing second intensified the discomfort.
Exchange of Glances – Shared Silence
Alexei frowned and turned his head toward Vik, looking for answers that weren't there.
"What do you think is going on?" he asked in a low voice.
Vik merely shrugged, just as confused.
"No idea."
Both kept their eyes on the man behind the desk, unsure of what to expect. They could feel that something had shifted in the day's usual script.
The scene, heavy with mute tension, made them feel misplaced—like pieces from the wrong puzzle.
The Face Behind the Chair – Boris
Finally, the chair turned.
The man who stared at them from behind the desk had a face wrinkled by stress and the perpetually angry expression of someone who had long since run out of patience.
Boris—their boss.
Obese, with a huge belly that seemed about to burst the buttons off his shirt, bald, with sweat glistening on his forehead in the sunlight. His cheeks were red, his jaw clenched—as if grinding his teeth even when not speaking.
His eyes pierced through them with a blend of disapproval, anxiety, and irritation.
"Alright, sit down. We need to talk," he growled, gesturing impatiently toward the chairs in front of his desk.
No hint of courtesy. Just the dry tone of someone with no time or tolerance for pleasantries.
Sergei – Silent Exit
At that moment, Sergei poked his head through the door. He entered with his usual sluggish gait, looking around with a neutral expression, as if the matter didn't concern him.
Boris didn't even look at him.
"Sergei, you can go," he said without taking his eyes off the boys.
Sergei nodded slowly, almost mechanically, and left without saying a word.
The door clicked softly behind him, leaving Vik and Alexei alone with their boss… and with a growing weight on their shoulders they couldn't yet name.
Inside the Office – The News
Boris remained seated behind his chaotic desk like a fixture, a heavy, immovable figure sunk into his kingdom of wrinkled papers and empty mugs.
His eyes scanned Vik and Alexei with a blank expression, devoid of empathy. As if he had delivered this kind of news many times before—or simply didn't care.
His voice was deep and commanding, with the weight of an irreversible decision.
"I'll be straight with you: the company's going to shit. We've got to make cuts, so… sorry, boys. You're out."
The words fell like a hammer.
For a moment, the air in the room became unbreathable.
Vik felt like everything around him floated, time stretching into a fog that dulled his thoughts.
Alexei froze instantly, his whole body stiff. His eyes—usually full of life—were now wide, stunned.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them knew how.
Alexei – Blow to the Pride
Alexei's usual energy, his unshakable enthusiasm, crumbled in a single blow.
His jaw dropped slightly, and his voice—when it finally came—sounded nothing like his own.
"What? What do you mean we're out?"
It was more a whisper than a question, drenched in disbelief.
His words were disoriented, trapped between shock and denial.
He couldn't accept it.
Not yet.
Vik – No Answers
Vik couldn't respond right away.
His body was tense, as if refusing to acknowledge what his ears had just heard.
His voice, firm and slightly irritated, finally broke through.
"What? We're fired?"
Even the word felt like an impossible threat.
It didn't fit with reality. Not with their routine. Not with a day that was supposed to be just another one.
The silence that followed was thick. Painful. Unbearable.
Boris – The Unmoving Stone
Boris didn't flinch.
Not a blink. Not a flicker of understanding. His expression remained the same: that of a man perpetually annoyed and perpetually tired.
His voice was firm. Final.
"It is what it is, boys. The decision's been made. Go get your things and head home."
Each word was a sentence.
Cold. Metallic.
Like the sound of a door slamming shut forever.
Silent Break
Vik and Alexei didn't respond.
They couldn't.
They were paralyzed, their minds desperately searching for logic, a loophole, any sign that this was just a mistake. But there was no room for that.
Not even for comfort.
The room felt smaller. More suffocating.
Normalcy had shattered—and something inside them had, too.
And for the first time in a long while, the day stopped feeling "perfect."
Outside Boris's Office – The Invisible Blow
The door shut behind them with a dull click that felt more final than any word spoken.
Vik and Alexei left in silence, fists clenched tightly—as if keeping them closed was the only way to maintain control.
Their steps echoed on the station floor with a hollow resonance, dragging behind them an invisible cloud of tension.
Both walked with heads low, shoulders weighed down by a new burden. One that couldn't be seen, but seeped into their bones.
Ahead of them, a small line of coworkers waited for their turn to enter the office. Some chatted in low voices. Others simply checked their watches.
No one knew anything yet. No one suspected.
Vik and Alexei glanced at them in passing. Their faces were mirrors of normalcy. But to the two of them, normal had just been shattered.
A single look was all it took to understand they both knew: they wouldn't be the only ones. The day had only just begun.
Locker Room – Breaking Point
The locker room was empty, except for the two of them.
A place that used to echo with routine, passing words, and tired jokes now felt like a mausoleum.
Narrow walls. Metal benches. Silence. Everything pressed in. Everything weighed.
Alexei was the first to explode.
With a restrained roar, he slammed a brutal punch against his locker.
The metallic clang echoed through the room like thunder trapped between walls. It bounced once, twice, three times—before dissolving into an even more uncomfortable silence.
His face was red, twisted with rage, eyes burning with confusion and fury. He paced back and forth like a caged animal, fists clenched, breathing heavy.
"This can't be happening! They can't just do this—just like that! Is this even legal?!"
His words burst out like gunfire, but no one answered.
Vik, standing at the back, watched him silently.
The blow hadn't hit his face—but it had struck his soul.
Vik still hadn't spoken.
He stood against the wall, eyes lost on the floor.
Everything inside him trembled, though on the outside he remained composed. That was his way of coping: no outbursts, no yelling. Just enduring.
But when Alexei's outcry shook the air again, something inside him cracked a little further.
He took a deep breath.
Forced himself to speak.
"Calm down," he finally said, his voice soft but tense. "We've been through worse. I'm sure we'll find something better… and soon."
Alexei stopped, but he didn't look convinced.
He crossed his arms and stared at Vik, eyes gleaming with frustration, clinging to a question with no answer.
"And what if we don't, Vik? What if this was all we had?"
The weight of fear crept into his voice.
He wasn't yelling anymore. He was trembling too.
Vik straightened up, as if something inside him had just solidified.
His eyes—still dim from disbelief—sparked with a different light: determination.
He no longer trembled.
He stepped toward his friend with firm steps.
Looked him in the eye, fearless. Certain.
And said what they both needed to hear.
"Let's get out of this shithole."
The words, sharp and precise, hit harder than any punch.
Alexei looked at him in silence. His expression softened. He didn't smile—but something inside him stirred. Lined up with Vik's energy.
They still didn't know what they were going to do.
Or how.
Or where.
But they weren't staying here.
Desperation had given way to action. And though the world was still uncertain, something had changed:
Vik was already walking forward.
And Alexei—no matter how broken—wasn't going to be left behind.
Final Exit from the Station – One Last Look Back
Vik stopped just as they reached the sidewalk, turning on his heels. He didn't say anything at first. He just stood there, eyes fixed on the entrance to the station.
His gaze wasn't angry. Just reflective.
A mix of detachment, resignation, and something faintly resembling relief.
The same building that, for over a year, had been his routine, his daily effort, his world… now felt foreign. Worn out.
The sign hung over the entrance, rusted, the company logo faded.
The letters—once proud—now seemed to dissolve, just like his bond to that place.
Sometimes, life forces you to look back one last time before taking a step into the unknown.
Vik didn't blink.
He didn't sigh with sadness either.
It was a silent farewell.
There was no pain. Just closure.
His expression was serious, but not bitter.
Melancholic, maybe.
As if the past and present collided in that moment, noiselessly.
His eyes, fixed on the rusted sign, seemed to be saying goodbye to more than a routine.
He was saying goodbye to a version of himself.
The air was thick.
The silence, heavy.
And yet, his breathing was calm.
A deep breath rose from his chest. Not of sorrow, but of resolve.
The weight of the past can be light once you decide to let go.
Then he smiled.
A half-smile, ironic.
That sarcastic spark that defined him.
"Cheer up, man. That place wasn't that great anyway," he said, still staring ahead, tossing the comment into the air—but directed at Alexei, walking beside him.
He glanced at him sideways, with a challenging, almost mocking look.
"Besides, now we've got the whole morning free… let's celebrate!"
The words came naturally. An attempt to downplay it. To bring color back to a gray scene.
Alexei, still frowning and jaw tight, raised an eyebrow.
He didn't answer immediately, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
A small, nervous laugh escaped before he could hold it in.
Sometimes, it's all about how you look at the future.
And if life throws you a punch, maybe the best way to face it is with a smile.
He looked at Vik, exhausted, but something lit up in his eyes.
An echo of their shared camaraderie.
"You're right," he finally said, sighing as he smiled. "Although… I never imagined our 'free morning' would come with this kind of surprise."
Vik smiled wider. Satisfied.
He had gotten what he wanted: to bring a little light back to his friend.
Alexei, now more animated, pointed his thumb down a side street.
"I know where we can go! I found this place the other day—they make amazing burgers."
Vik nodded with enthusiasm. He was no longer thinking about what they had lost.
He was thinking about moving forward.
"That sounds perfect. Let's go!"
Alexei took the lead with a confident step.
Vik followed, relaxed, backpack slung over his shoulder and his spirit lighter.
Sometimes, a good plan and good company are all you need to leave a bad day behind.
They walked through the streets of Moscow.
One leading, the other following with calm steps.
Together, as always.
Vik looked at him with a smirk and said:
"Then it's settled."
The camera followed them from behind, drifting away through the crowd.
The city stayed alive: cars crossing avenues, vendors opening their stalls, kids running through puddles.
Everything looked normal.
But the sun, though shining, didn't fully dispel a shadow in the air.
A subtle tension.
An invisible threat.
And as they walked toward burgers…
the world marched on, relentless, toward its end.