[center]|| E R I K | R E Z N O V ||[/center]

[i]"I must say Good-bye, my pupil, for I cannot longer speak; Draw the curtain back for Venus, ere my vision grows too weak: It is strange the pearly planet should look red as fiery Mars,– God will mercifully guide me on my way amongst the stars." Erik Reznov's voice retold the poem with an orator's care, matching the rhythm and pace of the verses with nigh-perfect accuracy. 

He sat in a child's bedroom, no larger or smaller than it should be, walls painted a pleasant light blue, easing to the eye. The walls were dotted with pictures of spaceships, astronauts, far-off planets and telescopes. The ceiling, too, was decorated by hanging models of the planets, Moon and stars. The room was lit by only a single bright lamp on the bedside table, giving the room a very comforting glow to it. 

Laying down in a small, plush bed was a young boy, no older than five, hair the color of straw. He had a tired sort of smile on his face, almost dreamy as he heard the poem being told to him once more. 

"Again, Daddy?" The boy asked sweetly, lying his head back against his large pillow.

"Again, Nicholas?" Erik echoed with a slight raise of his eyebrow. He was still wearing his suit from that day, having little time to change out of it. Work had been...especially stressful that day. Long hours, a seemingly endless pile of tasks. Such was the sacrifice of running your own clinic. 

Letting out a feigned huff, Erik ruffled his son's hair with a small, warm smile. "Alright, once more, but that's the end of it. Now close your eyes, Little Astronomer." He ordered in an eased tone before once again looking down at the weathered poetry book in his hand. 

"Reach me down my Tycho Brahé, – I would know him when we meet,
When I share my later science, sitting humbly at his feet;
He may know the law of all things, yet be ignorant of how
We are working to completion, working on from then to now..."[/i]

[center]|| P R E S E N T || D A Y ||[/center]

Erik sat alone in his apartment, little sound accompanying him except for the rhythmic ticking of his watch, a steadfast reminder of the time: six in the morning. Erik normally tried to sleep in around seven or later, but they kept him awake - the nightmares. As realistic and terrifying as they were, he could never remember them upon waking. Only that same, still feeling: horror. 

He had been at the Towers for a few weeks, just long enough to put a face to a name and remember the general layout of the buildings. In truth, having a doctor at the Towers was a Godsend. He would often work closely with the resident medical practitioner, Amina Ali, who was only a medical student by the time the Outbreak had occurred. In such times, his experience and training were called upon to help deal with the various injuries and ailments that never seemed to cease. But he didn't mind...it took his mind off of other things. 

He played with the glinting wedding band wrapped 'round his ring finger, seeing his warped reflection in the gold. It had been nearly six months since that fateful day...but the wound still bore as fresh as though it had been only yesterday. He would never forget that feeling of utter helplessness as his family, his wife and children had gone from alive and well to dead on the ground within [i]seconds[/i]. That was the worst part, the inability to save them, even as their breath caught in their throats in front of him. He would never forget the looks on their faces, [i]never[/i]. 

Rising from his seat, Erik took a few moments to brush off his shoulders and put on his jacket before leaving his apartment, locking the door behind him. He felt the cool, crisp air hit him like a freight train the second he stepped outside, but he didn't complain. It was a reminder that he was alive, still feeling. So long as he felt the wind, he was alert. 

He began the slow descent down the Towers in search of the medical clinic, offering head-nods and 'good-morning's to everyone he saw, though little more than that. At the surface he seemed to have hardly changed since the Outbreak. He had a few more wrinkles here or there, his hair wasn't as neatly kept and a thin line of scruff was starting to form on his jaw, but he didn't look much worse-for-wear. He could even have been considered handsome. But at the moment, the only thing on his mind was helping recover the medical stores from the infamous robbery that only occurred just a week earlier. Medicine was hard enough to come by as it was, but a hit of that level was almost crippling. 

Eventually finding the clinic, Erik focused his mind, hoping to work the day away, just as he always had.