I wake up two days later in the hospital wing.

My vision is still blurred. I only see colors and contrasts, but no shapes. I'm on painkillers and sedatives, but still I perceive the world around me as a hostile place. It's attacking me with painful lights and sharp voices.

My brain is refusing to cooperate too. Even the easiest thoughts feel as if I was trying to solve a complex equation in a foreign language.

I fall back asleep in a few minutes.

The next time I wake up, Timur is sitting by my bed.

He seems much older than his real age. He probably wasn't allowed to spend the last few days resting. Of course not, he had things to do. He's the commander now.

The last thought causes a scary tightness in my chest. But I smile at Timur, and he smiles back.

"Good morning, Madame. You've been unconscious for a few days. But don't worry, you'll recover fully in no time. At least that's what the medical team said."

I still can't sit up, and I see and hear everything as if I was underwater, but I don't doubt them.

"I will," I croak. My voice is weak and raspy. Barely audible.

"You need to hurry, Madame." Timur grins at me.

"What?" I whisper. "Did we fail to eliminate all of them? Are there—?"

"No, Madame," he says, taking my hand. "The Wasps are gone. All of them. We were thorough, even after you passed out, trust me. It's not that."

He pauses for a second. I'm too weak to ask questions, I only blink.

"People need you," he says. "They are coming out of the underground shelters, trying to carry on with their lives. They are still euphoric, but they'll face some inevitable problems soon. Reorganization won't be easy at all."

"The Council?" I murmur.

"They need you too. They had their inaugural session, only to decide that they can't make any significant decisions without you. Your presence is essential, in other words."

"What the fuck," I sigh, closing my eyes. It's too exhausting just to think about them and their neverending blabbering.

"They are like a bunch of lost children without you." He laughs. "As much as you hate to hear it, you're not just the single remaining Seer in the world, but now you're also the savior of humanity."

My face contorts in a grimace of pain hearing his last few words.

"Sorry," he mumbles. "That was stupid of me."

I open my eyes in an instant, as tiresome as it feels. I want to see his face. Because what I hear in his voice, is something suspicious. A deep emotional disturbance. I don't need my skills to detect it, because he simply sounds much more conflicted than what I'd expect from a man, who's obviously in mourning, just like me.

"What?" I whisper.

He closes his eyes as if he could close me out that easily.

"You're deeply worried about something," I inform him, trying to sound like a human, and not like a newborn kitten. "Tell me."

"I can't." He shrugs. "I have nothing to tell."

I roll my eyes. It feels easier than to speak.

"Your recovery is our main priority now," he goes on. "Go back to sleep, Madame. And rest assured, everything's in order."

I'd really like to inquire further, but I don't have the strength. I faint.

My next awakening is a happy one. I feel good as new. As long as I don't notice the IV in my arm. Which means I've been out for more than an entire day again.

But my voice is almost back to normal. So I decide to use it.

First, on the leader of the medical team. I convince him in two minutes to remove all the needles and other suspicious extras from my body. I order him to give me water and food. But when I try to stand up, he instantly grows a backbone, sadly.

"Madame, I'm responsible for your safety."

"I'm safe, thank you."

"I can't let you out of this room," he insists.

"Well, it's unfortunate." I shrug. "In that case, you're not only committing a serious crime, but you're also breaching my diplomatic immunity. Just saying."

Timur arrives in less than three minutes.

"The fuck are you doing, Madame?" he greets me with impeccable politeness, not forgetting my title.

"I'm kept here without an order of restraint, commander," I tell him.

He just sighs and offers me his arm.

"This way, Madame."

It takes a long time for us to get out of the hospital wing. And it's not only our – or rather my – sloth-like walking speed. It's the size of the place. Most of the Gate is turned into a hospital now. The injured are many. There are different wards, one for the serious cases, one for rehabilitation, and one for those, who only require temporary medical attendance. Like me.

There are unfamiliar faces among the doctors, too. It's also a sign of peace. People can move freely now, fulfilling their vocations.

"It's strange to see the Gate something else than a military base," I tell to Timur.

"It is. But I prefer it like this. There are long term plans to turn it into a medical and rehabilitation center for good, as far as I know. Most of the other hospitals were demolished during the war."

We take a long walk. Timur leads me through the hangar. When we step outside, to one of the runways, I instinctively gaze upwards. It takes me a few minutes to get used to the feeling of seeing the sky above me, without fear. Without the constant urge to run back to the building or look for cover.

"We really made it, right?" I ask Timur, with teary eyes.

"We did," he sighs, hugging me, the best moment possible, before my trembling knees give in.

"Let's sit down for a bit," I ask him. 'It's so blue out here."

"You missed all the celebrations," he says. "So I bet it takes some time to sink in. No Wasps. No underground life. No attacks. You can see the sky whenever you want to."

"I don't want to go in ever again," I sigh.

"The medical chief will kill me if I don't take you back soon." He laughs.

"But you're the commander now. Or the supreme commander? You can order him to let me go."

"No," he says.

"No, what?"

"I won't let you roam around while you're still in need of medical attention. You can wait for a few days. And no, I'm not a supreme commander. That was a one time only title in history."

Again. The strange insecurity in his voice. Hope. Desperation. Denial. Total confusion. I turn to him and look him deep in the eyes.

"Tell me."

"What?" He shrugs.

"What you're not telling me, but you should."

He sighs.

"You're a Seer for a reason, right? I can't lie to you. But here's the thing: to know is sometimes worse than to not know."

"You don't say," I snort. "To know is the most terrible curse in the world, and there are very few, if there are any, who experienced the truth of this saying in a more severe way than me. But still. I'm the kind who prefers to know. And, by the way, you also want to tell me. I can see it. Your secret is suffocating you."

"True." He nods. "I can't sleep at all now. And I have worse nightmares than ever before."

"Why?"

He hesitates for a few moments, shaking his head, scrutinizing my face. Then he takes a deep breath and takes my hand.

"Do you know the story about Schrödinger's cat? Until you open the box, you don't know if it's alive or it's dead. So it's both alive and dead, so to say."

I feel my eyes bulging a little.

"And, you know," he goes on, "there is a hermetically closed door in the intensive care wing of the hospital. And it's been like that box for me in the last few days."

I feel my heart sink. I still have no idea what he's about to say, but I already know that it will make me cry. But his eyes are teary too when he opens his mouth again.

"Duncan is in there."