Dawn barely broke over Moscow, seeping through a thick layer of gray clouds. The first rays of sunlight, tinted pale amber, slid down the façades of tall buildings, drawing timid glints from their glass and steel surfaces.
In the distance, the golden domes of Orthodox churches gleamed with a muted glow, contrasting with the modern skyline of skyscrapers. Moscow awakened as always: grand, indifferent. As if everything remained the same. As if the world still had time.
Another day dawned over Moscow. As if nothing were wrong. As if the world still had time…
The roar of traffic grew as the main avenues came alive. A swarm of cars raced across the asphalt, weaving together like an endless river of metal. Impatient horns, accelerating engines, and blaring radios composed the urban symphony of each morning.
Atop the buildings, a giant digital screen dominated the skyline. On it, the polished Theralux logo shone arrogantly. The latest advertising campaign rolled out in vibrant colors and bold promises: "Theralux — Beyond medicine, we build the future."
Oblivious to the city's chaos, the machinery of hope kept turning... with a smile that was far too perfect.
In a pedestrian street downtown, life moved forward with near-perfect choreography. Rushed pedestrians walked with coffee in hand, dodging each other without making eye contact, while others remained absorbed in their phones, crossing streets without looking up.
On a corner, a couple kissed as if the rest of the world didn't exist, oblivious to the bustle, oblivious to time. A few meters away, under the shade of a tree still damp with dew, two elderly men faced off in a chess match. Neither spoke, but both smiled with quiet complicity.
It was just another morning in Moscow. Or at least, it seemed so.
Inside a downtown café
The interior smelled of freshly baked bread and fruit tea. The walls, decorated with light wood and hanging plants, created a warm atmosphere despite the gray outside.
Behind the counter, a young waitress —in a dark uniform and light apron— smiled as she served pastries and steaming cups of tea to a family. The children laughed with their mouths full, their giggles echoing among spoons and plates.
On the back wall, a television broadcast the news in a low voice. On the screen, a journalist spoke with a restrained expression: "Shortages in rural regions. The government assures everything is under control."
No one seemed to pay much attention.
Gorky Park – Morning
A light mist still clung to the treetops in Gorky Park. The leaves shimmered with moisture, reflecting the first hints of sunlight through branches and paths.
A boy ran barefoot on the grass, laughing as he chased a blue ball. His dog, an enthusiastic mutt, followed with ears flapping and tongue lolling.
A few meters away, beside the artificial lake, a young couple took a photo. She held up the phone, he made a goofy face. The reflection in the water returned their image almost perfectly, save for the subtle ripples caused by hidden fish.
The world seemed paused. Quiet. Perfect.
Railway maintenance zone – Side street
On a street still damp with dew, a group of railway maintenance workers gathered beside an open trench. Reflective vests, battered helmets, and grease-stained hands testified to another routine shift.
Their voices blended with laughter, jokes, and the clinking of tools. One of them, with a weathered face and a cup of coffee in hand, looked up at the overcast sky.
"It's gonna rain today… but I wish every morning started like this," he said.
The group chuckled under their breath, as if that phrase summed up how little they needed to feel content.
And while the city smiled… no one noticed how the world's clock kept ticking down.
Vik's Apartment – Early morning
The silence was broken by the shrill beep-beep-beep of a digital alarm clock.
On a dusty metal nightstand, the clock blinked red: 6:30 AM. Nearby, a half-empty glass and a small photo of Vik and Anya smiling completed the scene, as if time had also stopped there.
From beneath a wrinkled blanket, a male hand emerged from the shadows and slapped the alarm off. No irritation, just habit. A reflex long acquired.
In the dim room, a young man sat on the edge of the bed. He had tousled silver hair, a wrinkled blue tank top, comfortable pants, a ring hanging from a cord around his neck, and eyes still drowsy—but deeply alive.
Around him, the room was simple and functional: a wooden shelf filled with assorted books, a work jacket hanging on a chair, and a window with blinds half-open, letting in the grayish light that painted the room with routine.
His name was Vik. Eighteen years old, but with eyes that had lived too much. Mechanic, technician, orphan since childhood. He learned to read blueprints before he learned to trust people.
And yet… he still believed in something. Maybe that's why he hadn't given up yet.
Kitchen – Moments later
From an interior angle, slightly blurred at the edges, the scene seemed like it was seen through the eyes of someone who had also just woken up.
Vik entered lazily. His silver hair hung over his forehead, and the cord with the ring was clearly visible against his bare chest, exposed by the sleeveless shirt. He wore dark, comfortable pants. He was barefoot and dragged his feet slightly.
He yawned as he put water to boil in a slightly worn metal kettle.
His face still showed signs of sleep, but his amber eyes—intense and sharp—shone with a clarity that didn't match his drowsy expression.
The kitchen, modest but functional, featured light wood furniture, a steel countertop, and a small window letting in the pale morning light.
Each morning was the same. Coffee, silence, and the echo of a city waking without him.
Vik didn't need clocks… his body already moved by routine.
On the fridge, a yellow sticky note clung loosely under a rustic magnet. Around it, other papers formed part of the daily landscape. The note, handwritten in a flowing, neat script, had creased edges from being moved so often.
A familiar gesture. Repeated.
Anya always had things to do, and Vik always waited for her.
So, another note. Another promise not to wait, in the eternal dance of routine.
Vik took the note in his fingers. He scratched his head with a hint of frustration. His amber eyes lingered on the words, filled with resignation.
There was weariness in his gaze, as if something had already begun to gnaw at his patience.
The natural light caught the pendant with the ring… a constant symbol of identity.
"Again... She's going to become part of that lab's furniture," he muttered.
Anya, Vik's older sister, was always absorbed in her work. Her dedication to Theralux's research lab seemed endless, and Vik… Vik couldn't help but feel a bit worried for her. She spent far too many hours working.
Living room – Moments later
Vik sat in front of the TV, on an old but comfortable sofa, with a simple breakfast before him: steaming coffee, toast, and some fruit. His gaze, fixed and slightly disdainful, landed on the screen.
A colorful, optimistic ad filled the space: "Theralux — Beyond medicine: we build tomorrow."
Vik gripped the remote with a tired expression. A faint ironic smile played on his lips.
With determination, he changed the channel.
"Yeah, yeah, you're selling miracles in bottles too…" he muttered sarcastically.
Channel surfing brought him to a live news broadcast. On screen, a grave-looking journalist spoke with a concerned tone. Behind him, a regional map lit up with red alerts.
"New tensions at the border. Moscow warns the United States of retaliations if economic provocations continue."
The image was grim. The tension was clear on the presenter's face.
Vik didn't look away. His serious face showed frustration and accumulated exhaustion. Furrowed brows and a clenched jaw gave him away.
They've been playing "who breaks first" for years… and we're always the ones paying the price.
Vik continued with his breakfast, ignoring the TV news. It had been repeating the same thing for too long.
Kitchen – Shortly after
The table was now empty: only the finished coffee, a few crumbs, and a fruit peel remained. His face showed calm, but not serenity—more like an acquired indifference.
After finishing breakfast, he stood up from the sofa, picked up his plate, and took it to the kitchen.
Standing, Vik washed his plate with mechanical and meticulous movements. It was a gesture so familiar, it required no thought.
Vik's Room – Moments later
Beside a chair, his old railway technician uniform hung neatly. The fabric showed wear, but retained its dignity. A jacket rested on the chair's back, pants folded atop the seat, gloves on top of them, work boots beneath, and a backpack hanging off the side.
Vik smoothed the jacket with one hand. He rehung it. His eyes lingered a bit longer. A brief, almost inaudible sigh escaped his lips.
He was ready for another day. But the uniform was also a reminder of what no longer was.
The backpack, old and functional, had a broken zipper. Inside, disorganized tools: wrenches, screwdrivers, various gadgets. Traces of his daily life.
Vik began to undress lazily but automatically, carelessly tossing his sleepwear onto the bed and systematically putting on his work uniform.
With a quick motion, Vik zipped up the bag as best he could and slung it over his shoulder. The backpack was part of him.
Almost as if he carried not only tools… but everything else too.
From the hallway, the dim morning light filtered through the window, wrapping Vik in a soft, warm halo. With the backpack on his shoulder, he exited the room, crossed the hallway, turned off the light, and closed the door with a firm hand.
The shadow of the door contrasted with the growing daylight. Behind him, a metal door marked with the number 17.
And so, like every morning, Vik left his refuge. Ready for another day. Even if the world… was about to change.
On the way to work – Moscow
The city had already awakened, yet a particular calm remained. As if everything was perfectly in balance. As if nothing were about to break.
The streets bustled with life: hurried pedestrians, cars gliding down avenues, shops opening their doors. And still, the scene felt suspended in a sacred routine.
Vik walked steadily down the sidewalk. The backpack over his shoulder seemed like an extension of his body. Despite the early hour, a slight smile played on his face. He radiated calm—perhaps even a quiet sense of determination.
The morning light bathed the streets in a soft, promising glow.
Despite the noise around him, Vik seemed to be in his own world. And for a moment, he enjoyed that brief peace that comes before the unknown.
Metro Station – Main Entrance
Before him rose the metro station, firm and familiar, like a daily ritual.
An old sign, weathered by the years, dominated one corner of the entrance. The dim light of dawn illuminated its edge, giving it a nostalgic air—like a relic refusing to disappear.
The automatic doors opened smoothly upon detecting his presence and invited him to step inside.
The city, bustling on the surface, seemed to pause right at the threshold of that underground space, as if honoring the sacred passage of millions of people who, day after day, descended there to keep the world moving.
Vik paused for a moment. He still wore a slight smile. That scene was as much his as the smell of morning coffee.
In the distance, the metallic sound of an approaching train echoed: deep, steady, constant.
Ticket Booth – Platform Entrance
Inside a small control booth, Ivan, the ticket inspector, was already waiting with a wide smile.
He was around forty, somewhat burly, and wore a white uniform shirt with the metro logo clearly visible. His face, marked by years and early mornings, radiated warmth and energy, as if every shift started with good humor, no matter how repetitive.
"Vik! Another day to survive!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "Feeling excited to work today?"
Vik replied with a calm smile and his usual laid-back demeanor.
"Today feels like one of those quiet days. The kind that's over before you even notice."
They shared a silent understanding, as if they both knew perfectly well what it meant to work without thinking too much about what might come next.
Vik continued on his way, unhurried. Ivan watched him, leaning on his control table.
"I hope so! Because if not, you'll have to cover another shift for me... Imagine that?" he shouted playfully.
Without turning around, Vik raised a hand in farewell.
"I doubt it, Ivan. See you on the way back!"
With a barely noticeable wink, he kept walking. The backpack hung over his shoulder, as always, comfortable and natural.
Ivan let out a hearty laugh and leaned back in his seat, letting the station's light breeze slip through the open booth door.
For a moment, everything pointed to it being a calm day.
Metro Platform – Minutes later
The screeching of train wheels filled the air, announcing its arrival.
Passengers waited calmly. Murmurs, footsteps, a distant phone ringing. The atmosphere was alive, but not loud.
Vik walked across the platform with a steady pace. His backpack swung slightly with his steps.
He boarded his designated car, and as he moved down the aisle, the invisible camera seemed to follow him closely, as if it knew every corner of the train as well as he did.
Inside the Train – In Motion
The metro started smoothly. Even the tunnels carried Theralux ads, seen in blurry flashes due to the increasing speed.
Vik settled into a seat by the window, placed his backpack at his feet, and pulled out his phone. With quick, precise movements, he connected his headphones.
A bit of music to start the day.
A modern track with an energetic beat began to play in his ears.
Vik closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sound carry him. The surroundings grew hazier, as if the music created a shield separating him from the world.
The train lights flickered slightly. Through the window, advertisements blurred into lines, colors, and fleeting shadows.
From a tilted angle, his face appeared peaceful, gently resting against the seatback.
His eyes remained closed. His usual vibrant expression now bore a deep serenity.
The train's vibration was steady, almost hypnotic. The tunnel lights flickered to the rhythm of the movement.
His body was fully relaxed. The backpack between his feet lay unmoving.
The other passengers were lost in their thoughts.
The train, meanwhile, stayed on course.
Today seemed like just another day. One of those where everything moves forward… with nothing out of the ordinary.
Destination Station – Leaving the Metro
The train stopped, and the metallic screech of the wheels faded, swallowed by the rising noise of the station.
The crowd quickly dispersed like a human current splitting toward invisible destinations. Among them, Vik emerged with a firm step, weaving between moving bodies, while the invisible camera followed from behind, capturing his silhouette in backlight.
The cold, steady lights of the station gave way to the first sun rays slipping through the automatic doors. The scene transformed: the underground chill was left behind, and warm golden light bathed everything.
The metallic stairs leading to the outside world glowed softly. Each of Vik's steps echoed rhythmically, simple but charged with a sense of progress. He ascended as he did every morning, backpack on his shoulder, calm face, serene gaze.
The journey was ending, but the city never stopped moving.
And deep inside, Vik knew the day was only just beginning.
Outside the Station – First Encounter
Amid the outside bustle, an imposing figure stood out among the crowd: Alexei, standing with arms crossed and a wide smile, waited for him. He wore the same uniform as Vik. His energy was evident even before he spoke. Impossible to miss.
"Vik! Hurry up or we'll be late!" he shouted, his voice strong and sharp, slicing through the noise.
Vik recognized the voice instantly and couldn't help but smile. His pace quickened naturally, weaving through pedestrians with ease. In the distance, his muscular friend waited as he did every morning, with the same carefree and alert attitude.
"I knew it," Vik said as he arrived. "You're always here to rush me, like I don't have time for everything else…"
Alexei let out a loud laugh and, with his usual energy, gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder.
The force of the hit tilted Vik slightly to the side, like a kid under the arm of an older brother.
"It's the key to surviving in this city! Hurry waits for no one!" he declared with a wide smile, one that seemed to shine without light.
Despite his size and defined muscles, Alexei had a trustworthy aura, the kind of person you could lean on without hesitation.
Vik smiled at the gesture, accepting the dramatics with amused resignation. He knew his friend. Energetic, direct, tireless. And above all, harmlessly competitive.
Alexei threw an arm around Vik's neck affectionately, lifting him slightly off the ground in a brotherly joke. Vik didn't resist.
"Come on! Today I'm going to beat you in the race to the train station, just watch."
"What are you saying? You know my pace is unbeatable," Vik replied, smiling.
They looked at each other, conspirators, as if they shared a story no one else knew.
Without another word, they started walking toward their destination.
On the Way to the Train Station – Joking Around
The city buzzed around them, but they walked at their own rhythm.
Alexei talked nonstop, tossing out comments, ideas, and jokes about whatever came to mind. His voice echoed between buildings as they walked. Vik, beside him, listened and responded with small smiles and dry, sharp retorts—his quiet, witty humor on full display.
People passing by glanced at them out of the corner of their eyes. Not out of curiosity, but because they radiated a natural sense of camaraderie. Two figures who, amid the fast-moving world, seemed to have their own code.
"Vik, I bet if you don't run faster, I'll leave you behind!" Alexei teased, that ever-awake competitive spark in his tone.
"Really? With that athlete's body of yours? You'll see my pace is faster than yours," Vik replied sarcastically, not even looking at him but flashing a half-smile.
Alexei made a dramatic face, as if shocked.
"Well, sometimes I wonder how a guy like you can be so fast…"
Vik laughed openly, this time without holding back.
"Genetics, my friend. Genetics. You're just jealous."
They kept walking, exchanging glances and jokes like brothers.
The world might have been spinning fast, but in those moments, everything seemed simple. Just two friends facing a new day. And for now, that was enough.
In those moments, it felt like life couldn't be simpler: two friends tackling another day with the best attitude, while the world outside kept on turning...