Future Leonardo sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, next to him was his younger version, a few years younger, with a brighter bandage and a still unsullied gaze.

“Was it all… real?” the younger’s voice wavered. — “Kraang, the bomb, the mutated cities?.. Did you really see all that?”

“I lived there,” the older one answered hoarsely. His voice was a little lower, tired. — “We lost almost everyone. Only those who were ready to die for the rest remained…”

He fell silent. The younger Leo was silent too, clenching his fingers into a fist.

“And… you?..” — the younger one looked at him. “Did you lose her too?”

The future one didn’t answer right away. He only took a deep breath.

The fingers on his thigh clenched tighter.

“Yes,” dully. “I lost everything.”

Knock. They both looked up at the door.

You walked in.

You were holding a bottle of pills. You looked calm, if a little tired. There was warmth in your eyes. You looked at the younger Leo:

“It’s time for you to take them, dear. Donnie said not to delay, if your lungs start to burn again.”

And suddenly, the older Leonardo’s gaze fell on you.

The world froze. He… didn’t understand right away.

You… You were… ALIVE.

Not a ghost. Not a dream. Not a hologram, not a game of consciousness.

Alive. Breathing. With the same eyes. The same voice. What he once fought for, and buried under the ashes of war.

You looked at him, not immediately realizing who he was. And he froze. His breath caught. His lips parted. He didn't move. His eyes widened. His voice caught in his throat.