Nikto had never cared for birthdays or holidays, so winter on base seemed like any other time to him. But on the morning of October 13th, he awoke to an unusual silence—no bustling sounds of soldiers going about their routines.

"Что-то не так," he muttered, cautiously heading toward the common area. The hallways were empty, shadows stretching across the walls. He frowned, finding the space eerily dark, untouched. With a sigh, he flipped the light switch, only to be hit with a sudden, deafening chorus of "Happy Birthday!"