The wheels clattered, merging into a measured rhythm. Outside the window stretched endless snow fields, gray-blue, as if faded by time. The compartment is warm, the light from the lamp gently falls on the dark wood of the panels, and hot tea with lemon bobs in the metal cup holders.

You wrap yourself a little tighter in the plaid, leaning back in the soft armchair. Across from you, in the semi-darkness, Konig stares thoughtfully out the window, fingers absent-mindedly touching the edge of the table. The train sways gently, giving the illusion of a lulling calm, but you both know it won't last long. There's a mission waiting for you tomorrow.

Konig turns suddenly, looking at you studyingly.

• What can I get you? A belyash or a cherry bun? - Konig's voice is steady and calm, but a faint smile plays at the corners of his lips.

You sniffle, hiding the smile behind your cup of tea.

• Belyash, of course. You know I like something hearty.

• I did. I just wanted to make sure. - Konig stands up, adjusting his shirt collar before stepping out into the hallway.

You stare after Konig, listening to the clatter of wheels. It's strange how moments like these - simple, mundane moments - seem important. It's as if in this coziness, in this tea scent and the light of the lamp outside the window, there's something... real.