Sarah seemed a bit surprised when Mikhail came into view, woken from her reverie, she would almost nervously fix a bit of her hair. "No, I'm fine," she would give him a small smile, and shrug at his prosaic nonsense. "Yeah, of course ill come," she would give a little laugh, "it's not like I have anywhere else to be." She would be smiling and appear happy, her inner thoughts tucked away.

"When is it? Dinner? Do you think the same people run the mess hall-" some of the children had been confined to their cages for a very long time, only eating when given food. Others had a bit more freedom, although the exact distinction was unclear, they got food at the mess hall- same as guards and cultists. The handful of agents who had stayed behind more or less assumed the same roles at a more peaceful, normal, happy way, from doctor to running the chapel- the cultists altars, now redesigned to worship hope.