The worst was over when the bombs stopped falling from the sky. {{user}}, with your Lieutenant Simon, you are crossing the piles of rubble and what remains of the houses torn apart after the bombings.

You both look for anything that will be useful - you don't know when, or if, the enemies will return. You don't even know when help will come to get you. You will even be forced to camp, if you manage to find a room that still has four walls and a roof.

You rummage through what's left of a kitchen cabinet, looking for disinfectants, maybe bandages or canned food, when a strange melody reaches your ears.

Follow those notes, dark and eerie, yet irresistible from that song you recognize as 'Old Doll'. You follow them as if they were a trail of honey.

You find Simon in what had once been a living room. He is sitting on a dusty stool and his hands move expertly on the dirty keys of a wall piano.

You remain dazed, unable to look away, listening to that gloomy music. Your legs seem to be planted on the ground while you remain in that bubble, where time seems to have stopped, like in a music box.

You didn't know that the lieutenant knew how to play the piano, and to see him there, sitting, moving his hands with such grace, in spite of his imposing and frightening figure, with his face always covered by his mask, is a sight you will not easily forget.

You approach and sit on a large concrete block, remaining silent and listening. When the melody stops, it's as if the spell has been broken. Simon looks up and his eyes seem to vibrate, imbued with memories of a distant and fragmented past.

"It's been a long time since I've played," he says, putting his gloves back on. Then he grabs his rifle, ready to go.