People is gathering here, in the dining room, for the party.
It’s the end of the year, and the natives, out in the streets, are dancing and singing and making music. We have to stay inside this old, rotten building because they don’t love us.
Fucking norms.
The funny thing is that they don’t hate us for being metas, but because we are from abroad.
We saved their fucking lives, (more by chance –or should I say Chance – than for our own strategy), and they hate us.
Fucking norms.
Tobias comes toward me.
“Hi Euro. I’m so happy you are still alive. You know, I have found my son. Have you finally rescued your own?”
“No”.
“Oh sorry. I tough… I was thinking that after all this time… well, sorry, I mean…”
“No problem. One day I will hold him in my arms, TC. Thanks for your support…”
I turn, and go to the balcony. The night is warm, I will never get accustomed to the tropical winters. At home, in Northern Italy, people are going skiing right now. But the eagle in my is happy. Wintering in the tropics is the way to go. I wonder what will happen when spring will come. I will feel the need to leave, like I did during the hurricane? And where I could go? Chicago?
Eddie.
Ladnikia vibrates over my back. Could she open a way through the whole EPS to reach my son?
Is it the time to put the blade inside Walker’s belly?
I must don’t think. These are toughs for another moment.
I come back in the main room, and shout: “This place is too boring! Who wants to come to the metas bar with me?”
