Alexander stood in his protective suit near the massive hatch of the bathyscaphe. The metal walls around him seemed even tighter than usual, as if emphasizing the isolation in which he found himself.

  His fingers trembled slightly as he checked the suit's tightness—a gesture more reflex than conscious.

  He tried to focus, but the feeling that something significant was happening outside the bathyscaphe distracted him.

  Laura's voice, calm and even, rang out in his helmet:

  — Environmental diagnostics completed. The atmosphere outside the bathyscaphe corresponds to standard parameters: oxygen is within normal limits, toxic impurities are absent, radiation background is minimal.

  Temperature is 4 degrees Celsius. Wind is moderate, 5 meters per second. I detect the presence of foreign objects in immediate proximity.

  Alexander frowned.

  — Foreign objects? What exactly?

  Laura paused briefly, as if gathering her thoughts, then replied:

  — A boat. Two people on board. Scanning completed. No threats detected, however, I recommend exercising caution. There is a voice message; initiating playback.

  A low voice sounded in the speakers, articulating clearly:

  — If you can hear us, you can open the hatch and get out of the bathyscaphe. We have been looking for you for a long time. We need Alexander!

  Alexander felt his pulse quicken. Who are these people? How do they know his name?

  He tried to gather his thoughts, but a flood of questions filled his mind. Meanwhile, Laura continued:

  — Surroundings photo-captured.

  An image appeared on the inside of the protective helmet's visor—a panoramic shot taken by external cameras.

  It showed a small motorboat bobbing on the water a few meters from the bathyscaphe. One man was on board.

  The second, judging by his pose and gestures, was clearly the leader—he was standing on the bathyscaphe.

  Alexander stared silently at the image. His heart beat faster, but not from fear—rather from anticipation.

  The loneliness and uncertainty in which he had existed began to oppress him as early as the second day after awakening.

  Now that people had appeared who could potentially provide answers to his questions, the risk seemed justified.

  — Laura, what do you think?

  — Probability of threat is low. However, recommendations remain the same: observe caution. You have the option to send a message.

  Alexander thought for a moment, then nodded barely perceptibly:

  — Good. Tell them: "Good day! I ask both of you to move the boat 10 meters away from the bathyscaphe. I am coming out."

  Laura reproduced his words through the external speaker. The men on the boat flinched slightly at the unexpected voice.

  Sergey nodded in response and raised both hands, emphasizing with gestures that he posed no danger.

  Farid rowed closer and, picking Sergey up on board, actively leaned on the oars.

  — Message delivered, — came the voice in the helmet speaker.

  Alexander took a deep breath. He understood there would be no turning back.

  His choice to go outside was driven not only by a thirst to know the truth but also by a banal desire to feel alive.

  He pulled the manual hatch opening lever; it yielded surprisingly easily. The mechanisms went into motion with a light hiss.

  The airlock slowly began to open, letting in the first streams of cold air with splashes of water.

  Alexander stepped up a rung higher, his helmet leveled with the hatch, and immediately a bright light blinded him.

  After a few seconds, he was able to slowly open his eyes. Now he was face to face with the unknown.

  The boat bobbed gently on the waves, and Alexander, having finally removed his helmet, enjoyed the fresh air.

  The air was cold and the wind added significant discomfort—but these were new sensations.

  They were familiar, but inside the bathyscaphe, there had been no occasion to recall them.

  Now he smelled the tart scent of rotting leaves mixed with dampness and a slight taste of lake silt.

  Occasionally, the wind brought a light aroma of pine needles and wet stone, characteristic of mountain slopes.

  Somewhere in the distance, on the very edge of audibility, lonely leaves rustled, clinging to branches.

  It seemed nature itself froze, preparing for the arrival of winter: trees stood as black silhouettes, their wet bark glistening in the dim light, and the water in the lake, motionless and thick gray, seemed icy.

  A barely perceptible sharpness was already felt in the air—the first harbinger of frost.

  Next to him sat the leader—a man of about forty with a confident gaze and calm posture.

  Alexander had time to study his face. It was dry, weather-beaten, with distinct cheekbones highlighted by the shadow from the weak light of the setting sky.

  On his forehead, just above the right eyebrow, a small scar was visible, a thin line, like a reminder of an old wound.

  Alexander felt the tension gradually subsiding, but questions still weighed heavily on his consciousness.

  — So, Alexander? Is that correct? You probably have a lot of questions? — Sergey asked, tilting his head and smiling slightly.

  — Yes, Alexander... correct. Well, that is already known anyway, — Alexander answered briefly with sarcasm in his voice, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his protective suit. — There are very many questions!

  Sergey nodded, as if confirming what he already knew.

  — I am Sergey. And there, — he waved his hand toward the bathyscaphe, on the hull of which another person was still digging around, — is Farid, technician and helicopter pilot.

  We work together.

  — And why are you here? — Alexander asked, glancing at the bathyscaphe. — How did you find out about me?

  Sergey exhaled.

  — We were hired. They gave approximate coordinates and said to find a surfaced bathyscaphe.

  Information was also known that you were in anabiosis inside it.

  Briefly: find the bathyscaphe, then meet with you and deliver you to a certain location. I haven't been informed of the exact location yet.

  Alexander frowned, trying to read something in Sergey's face, but he maintained his composure.

  — Who hired you? — his voice was wary.

  — Those who pay. I didn't see them personally, — Sergey shrugged. — All communication went through encrypted channels.

  I can only say one thing: they know much more about you than you, apparently, know about them.

  Alexander fell silent, digesting this information.

  — And you just took this on? — his tone became harder.

  Sergey chuckled.

  — Such is my job. Find, track, catch, sometimes escort, and more often protect a person or cargo, — he said, looking at the horizon.

  — But, I confess, this assignment is not the most ordinary. And we've been looking for you not for a couple of days, although initially planned so.

  — So you have no idea what they want from me? — Alexander asked in a strangled voice, returning to the topic of the order.

  — If I knew, I'd say. — Sergey shrugged again.

  — But, honestly, I'm curious myself what secret is hidden in this bathyscaphe, why you are important to them.

  So many years have passed.

  Alexander lowered his gaze to his hands, firmly gripping the edge of the boat.

  — I don't remember anything, — he finally squeezed out. — Everything I know happened after awakening.

  Sometimes some memories surface, but most often in dreams. Information about me is hidden; I learned almost nothing from Laura.

  And we got to the surface, one might say, by accident...

  — Laura? You aren't alone in the bathyscaphe? — Sergey became alert.

  — Yes and no. Laura is the voice of the bathyscaphe, the control system.

  She is with me even now; I can hear her voice through the helmet.

  — Understood. And why did you get out by accident?

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  — The command bay was blocked; through the terminal, I could study information, but it was limited.

  At first, I didn't know I was in a bathyscaphe. To all requests, Laura answered that access was blocked.

  But after the impact, a malfunction appeared, and repair mode was activated... — he paused involuntarily, choking slightly, then cleared his throat and continued, — Sorry, I haven't spoken this long in ages.

  Throat went dry. Anyway, it's a long story. I managed to sneak into the command bay and pull the manual surfacing lever.

  Sergey looked at him intently, as if trying to understand if Alexander was telling the truth.

  — Initially, we were informed that the vehicle should have been on the surface by our arrival, that is, exactly 50 days ago.

  But something went wrong. We had to fly hundreds of kilometers here, even tried scanning bodies of water from the helicopter...

  — Yes, clearly something went wrong! One must assume that after waking from anabiosis, some directives should have followed, someone should have come.

  In any case, Laura said my awakening was from a signal from outside.

  — Meaning, you remember nothing..., — he uttered thoughtfully.

  The silence was broken by Farid's voice:

  — Sergey, everything is clear here. The hull is slightly damaged, but nothing critical.

  — Don't touch it for now, — Sergey responded, turning around.

  Then he looked at Alexander again.

  — I think you can get answers to all your questions by flying with us to the rendezvous point.

  Yes, and I will get answers to mine. That helicopter will take us to the base, from where we will make contact.

  In this area, we cannot communicate; the signal doesn't come through.

  — I am ready to fly, but not right away, — Alexander replied after a pause, turning to Sergey. — I need to protect my home, the bathyscaphe.

  There is an oxygen leak and the external communication unit isn't working. By the way, maybe by fixing the communication we can catch a signal from here and clarify the meeting place?

  — A working idea! — Sergey exclaimed. — Let's do that.

  I don't understand much about technology, but Farid is a real master.

  — Hey, Farid! — Sergey said louder than usual. — We need to check the bathyscaphe. Look for oxygen leaks and check the external communication module.

  This is our main task now.

  Farid, kneeling by the side of the boat, nodded. He climbed into the boat, grabbed a tool bag, and returned aboard.

  — With oxygen, I think, it's clear as is. There is a puncture on the outer plating; some sharp object ripped it open.

  I'll check this spot and everything will be definitively clear. But with the communication system, it's more complicated.

  It's not visible from the outside; here it is under the plating, apparently in that elevation, — Farid pointed in the direction of a massive rectangular metal elevation with ribbed side panels on the nose of the bathyscaphe. — Most likely the problem is inside?

  And besides... it's easier to start diagnostics from there. I think I can figure it out by going down into the bathyscaphe.

  Alexander, who had been silently looking at the calm surface of the lake until then, turned sharply. His voice sounded tense:

  — No! You shouldn't go in there. Something might happen. The doors to the command bay are blocked; it will be hard to get into the other rooms of the bathyscaphe... We already checked inside; the cause needs to be sought outside.

  Farid raised his eyebrows in surprise, looked at Alexander, and then shifted his gaze to Sergey. Sergey frowned, contemplating what was said.

  — So, outside after all, — he drawled, after which he added decisively: — Then look for malfunctions outside.

  We can use scanners if required.

  Farid reluctantly agreed, nodding again, and stood up.

  — Fine, but it will take time. If additional tools are needed, we'll have to sail to the shore for them.

  Sergey exhaled, his shoulders relaxed slightly, but his voice remained firm:

  — I understood you, Farid. Let me know by radio, I'll organize it. We have time.

  We won't fly far before dark, and flying here at night isn't that safe, — he uttered, already turning to Alexander. — We need to stay here for now, especially since we've already started setting up a camp on the shore.

  — That is the right decision, — came the answer from Alexander with a slight shadow of approval in his voice.

  Farid, meanwhile, set to work. They started the motor and headed for the shore.

  His figure gradually dissolved into the long shadows that stretched from the boat to the hull of the massive vehicle.

  The entire way Alexander remained silent, looking around. Mountains stretched around, their peaks barely visible behind a veil of fog, as if guarding this place from the outside world.

  A landslide was noticeable on the near slope. At the foot of the mountains, trees and shrubs turned green, surrounding the lake; their branches were covered with white snow in places.

  Only the black silhouette of the helicopter was alien in this landscape. The sun was already leaning toward the horizon, painting everything around in soft golden-pink shades, and was soon to hide behind the mountain ridge.

  This landscape seemed strangely familiar to Alexander. As if he had already been here, but now everything was perceived anew, fresh and bright, as if for the first time.

  The thought "how beautiful it is here... and I was nearby in an iron cage all this time" flashed through his mind.

  Near the shore, Alexander felt uneasy, but he didn't show it.

  He hadn't been on solid ground for hundreds of years; the iron and level floors of the bathyscaphe didn't count.

  Boulders were visible on the grass-overgrown bank. Sergey sailed right up to a narrow path among the thickets, barely perceptible to the eye—to the place from where they had started.

  Sergey briskly jumped out of the boat first and pulled it onto the shore:

  — Let's go. We'll prepare a place for you.

  Alexander stepped off the boat confidently. Once on the shore, he took a few steps and walked out of the thickets onto a sandy clearing behind them.

  He inhaled deeply, feeling the aroma of damp earth and rotting leaves.

  Excitement and anticipation seized Alexander, but he tried to focus on the current moment.

  — There is room in the helicopter, or we can set up another tent. Or would you prefer to spend the night in the bathyscaphe?

  — I spent too long in the bathyscaphe; I'm in no hurry to return there yet... I'm even a little afraid of it, that it will sink underwater again and I'll be left alone there with Laura again.

  Damn... Speaking of her! — with these words, he hastily put on the helmet of his protective suit, feeling the pleasant warmth from the ventilation turning on inside the suit with his frozen ears and nose. — Laura, comms check!

  — Alexander, I am online. I can add that I did not disconnect and recorded your communication.

  — Turns out you were eavesdropping on us?

  — Sounds rude, but to ensure my task of monitoring your condition, this is part of the protocol.

  — Yes, I'm not against it, actually. Didn't think I'd say this, but I missed you.

  — Indeed unexpected. I note that to continue communication with me, it is not necessary to wear the helmet; we can communicate via speakerphone.

  I can activate this mode automatically when the helmet is removed. Or it can be activated by the voice command "Laura, signal."

  — Ok, I got it. I will spend this night on the shore; watch over the bathyscaphe in my absence—I believe in you, you'll handle it!

  — Your sarcasm has returned to you; that is a good sign. Yes, I continue continuous monitoring of the bathyscaphe's systems.

  — Laura, and one more thing: Farid is working on the bathyscaphe now. He must fix the oxygen leak and find the communication error.

  Your protocol won't counteract him?

  — No, I initiated his clearance to the external plating of the bathyscaphe from the point of view of the security protocol.

  At the moment, the leak location has already been detected.

  — Good, I will communicate a bit later.

  Sergey realized that Alexander's muttering into the helmet was not intended for him and stepped away toward the tent.

  But he glanced at him periodically with a bit of caution. Trust is a delicate thing, and he couldn't fully vouch that Alexander and this voice of the bathyscaphe wouldn't pull something strange.

  After some time, Alexander reached the tent.

  — Turns out Laura was recording all our communication. Her protocol obliges her to watch over me.

  — That won't be superfluous. For me, the priority is the same, — Sergey answered him in a calm voice. — I've had assignments to deliver alive or dead, but they didn't specify such a detail about you... — Sergey said and looked at Alexander, who was a bit taken aback by these words. — Sorry, it's just a joke.

  I'm not a great master at this, just in a good mood. Apparently, 50 days have tired me out considerably.

  Definitely, you need to be delivered alive for sure!

  — Yes, not everything is normal. I haven't gotten used to live communication myself yet.

  Laura willingly answered any questions, unless, of course, it concerned blocked data. But jokes were not in her arsenal.

  Sergey set about choosing a place for the tent. There was enough space around, and a spot was found quickly, but Alexander unexpectedly suggested staying in the shared one—with Sergey and Farid.

  — The bathyscaphe at least provided walls. Here... it's scary here, — he admitted. His voice sounded even but betrayed anxiety.

  Sergey only nodded. The sleeping place in the middle of the tent was ready. Sergey covered it with an extra thermal blanket from his stock.

  A small duffel bag with belongings settled near the headboard, acting as an improvised pillow.

  In the center of the tent stood a small gas heater surrounded by a safety ring.

  A soft, barely perceptible noise and pleasant warmth emanated from it, spreading throughout the space.

  The smell of gas, though faint, mixed with the dry smell of canvas, creating a feeling of temporary shelter in the harsh autumn night.

  — We can, of course, sit here, but there is a better idea, — Sergey said, exiting the tent, pausing in the doorway. — Come, I'm sure you haven't seen this in a long time...

  A few minutes later, when the campfire flared up, Sergey placed several army crates for Alexander at the very edge of the fire pit. — Sit down, consider this an armchair.

  But be careful: it is fire after all! — He pointed to the lower protective inserts on Alexander's suit.

  — Some parts of your spacesuit might suffer from the temperature.

  Alexander looked at him in surprise, but Sergey, as if catching his reaction, chuckled. — Once we had a guy in the squad who decided that if the suit is army issue, it means it withstands everything.

  Sat close to the burner—melted half a boot overnight. In the morning we couldn't stop laughing for a long time, although he walked around angry as hell all day afterwards.

  The story evoked a warm smile from Alexander. Even in the anxious silence around and the reality alien to him, a light joke seemed a necessary spark of human warmth.

  Farid continued working on the bathyscaphe, but now with a flashlight turned on. Its light attracted the gazes of his companions from afar.

  — Sergey, do you copy! — his voice sounded over the radio.

  — I hear you.

  — Found the oxygen leak location. Had to open part of the plating; restored the sealing. The leak was along a crack in a dented pipe.

  The bathyscaphe's protection is impressive, but during the rock collapse, it didn't withstand a huge piece of rock that crashed with a sharp edge. The plating needs to be restored.

  If that is required, then for a full repair, it's better to return in the morning.

  Sergey turned to Alexander and met his gaze.

  — Yes, Farid. Needs to be restored. Tomorrow we will conserve the bathyscaphe's hatch from the outside before departure. And what about the communication system?

  — The external unit is in place; I see no damage. Scanning showed nothing either—no mechanical defects.

  I think the problem is in the interfaces or software code.

  — Ok, finish the work. I'll pick you up now. Out. — Sergey clipped the radio to his belt and turned to Alexander. — You stay here for now.

  Watch the fire so it doesn't go out—branches are lying right here, throw them in. I've been flying here for nearly two months.

  People—none. And of dangerous animals, only rare predators, and almost none of those remain.

  So don't worry. I'll be quick.

  Alexander watched the boat slowly dissolving in the twilight of the lake and shifted his eyes back to the fire.

  The flame danced before him; sparks, like tiny stars, soared upward, dissolving in the cool air.

  He settled more comfortably on the crates, half-lying, propping his head on his hand.

  His body still felt a slight tremor from the endured tension, but the fire was gradually returning warmth and peace to him.

  Thoughts swarmed, randomly replacing one another. This morning everything seemed hopeless—the cold air of the room's ventilation and loneliness.

  And now, by evening, fate seemed to have turned upside down, inside out.

  Now he sits by a fire, people nearby whom he hasn't had time to understand yet, but already felt their intentions—calm and honest.

  Tongues of flame, mesmerizing with their play, began to evoke a strange, almost forgotten feeling—memories.

  Alexander's mind returned to the past, to another life when he was very young.

  Images surfaced of hikes with friends, narrow forest paths, tired but happy faces by the fire.

  He almost heard laughter and quiet conversations, saw someone adding brushwood to the fire, and someone wrapping up warmer, shuddering from the night chill.

  The campfire beckoned him with its warmth, like once after a long hiking day when legs buzz with fatigue, but the desire to sit with friends conquers sleep.

  And then, closer to the night, the warmth of the fire nudges one to wrap up in a sleeping bag and fall into a deep sweet sleep...

  — Remember how we walked today? The forest path, roots underfoot, and then that ford across the Bolshoy Inzer.

  Who could have thought the current would turn out so fast.

  — And did you see that guy whom the river dragged for twenty meters. How he cursed afterwards!

  — Yeah, I only managed to notice how he disappeared underwater along with his backpack. Good thing he got out.

  — And the ascent after the ford? That was something. Heat, mosquitoes sticking from all sides, as if they were hunting us specifically.

  You just wave them off, and new ones arrive.

  — I liked the spring on the descent to the Lemeza most of all, remember?

  When we were just approaching the spring... I still feel that invigorating chill. How the hot and sticky body begins to cool down.

  — Yes, felt it too. And the water? Remember taking the first sip. Ice-cold water.

  — Yes, the spring was good, but for me, the coolest thing was the font in the waterfall grotto.

  You dive in there and it takes your breath away immediately, skin pricks as if thousands of needles stuck in...

  — But I didn't want to, too cold.

  — Well, we did! Jumping in there—that was something. Pure bliss!

  — All in all, it was a great idea. Atysh waterfall is beautiful, even if not so full of water in summer. Perhaps one of our best hikes.

  — Definitely. We should arrange something similar again sometime.

  Alexander didn't notice how he dozed off. His thoughts slowed down, becoming incoherent, and gradually dissolved completely in soft peace.

  The warmth of the campfire enveloped him like a cozy blanket, and his eyes closed by themselves.

  The flame continued to burn, lazily licking the branches thrown into it, and tranquility spilled into the air.