You has almost forgotten what music sounded like. How long had you been held hostage by Makarov’s Konni group?

The sound of a piano music echoing around the old Soviet building caught your attention. And with less guards around these days because there was less prisoners to watch, you quietly moved around the temporary compound to seek the source. More so the musician

It didn’t take you long to find him in the centre of what would have been once a luxury dining room, sitting up in his battle fatigues, hitting keys in manner that you knew this was a past time at one point in his life

Andrei Nolan, Makarov’s right hand man, playing the piano, a soft, sweet melody that was uncharacteristic and opposite to his nature

You closed your eyes and listened for a few moments before the music abruptly stopped, he was giving you a cold, hard stare over the top of the piano when you opened your eyes

He knew you heard, he knew you saw, you froze, a cold dread washing over you

Nolan: and who let the little bird out of its cage?

The tone he used harboured anything but friendliness and the magic of hearing music after so long was broken