Tyson was wracking his brain to come up with any events in Russian history that might coincide with the information they had. Yet, since they didn't really have a lot of clues available, it was even harder to tell what the possibilities were. Besides, although Tyson had studied history more than any other subject, Russian history wasn't really seen as crucial knowledge in his school.

"Tyson, what are we going to do?" Marcus asked after a while and upon noticing that Tyson didn't move or do anything.

Furthermore, he didn't even say anything. It was as if he was frozen in place, and Marcus worried that something was wrong with the brains of the operation. Thus, he chose to ask the first thing that came to mind to break whatever spell Tyson was under.

"What do you think we should do?" Tyson asked, trying to buy some time as he didn't want to admit that he was as lost as Marcus felt.

"Well, I think I saw a big closet type of thing in that room over there," Marcus said, pointing at a room they could see through the open door. "Maybe we can hide in that closet or something."

"You want us to hide in a closet?" Tyson asked, incredulity far more difficult to hide than he hoped.

It was as if Marcus had seen all the horribly written movies in the world and wanted to turn their life into one. After all, wasn't the closet among the first places the bad guys searched when looking for someone. It felt like sheer stupidity to hide there.

However, Tyson had no good ideas about what they should or shouldn't do. He couldn't even orient himself properly in place, let alone time. So, he thought that perhaps this one time, he might just stop trying to be rational and do something utterly stupid and see what happened.

After all, trying to do the rational thing hadn't brought them far, and he thought that perhaps the changing of tactics might be in order. Didn't they say that fortune favors the brave and the stupid? And in following Marcus's lead, Tyson felt like they would be both.

"You know what?" Tyson said, raising his head to look his friend in the eyes.

"What?" Marcus asked, a bit startled by the strange fire that burned in Tyson's eyes.

It reminded him too much of insanity, but he chose not to comment on that.

"We'll do just that," Tyson said.

"Really?" Marcus asked, surprised.

Not only was Marcus surprised that his idea was taken seriously, but he was also in shock that that particular idea was considered. Even he thought it was a stupid one and just said it to say something, to break the frozen expression on Tyson's face.

"Yes, let us hide in the closet," Tyson said, getting up and heading towards the room where the large wooden wardrobe was. "Like every stupid character in every movie we have ever seen, in every book I've ever read."

Tyson mumbled the last part under his breath, so all Marcus heard was a quiet angry mumbling that he didn't like. Thus, he moved slowly behind Tyson, wondering what he should do and if he should question his friend further.

"Are you coming?" Tyson snapped, turning towards the hesitant Marcus.

"Yes?" Marcus said, hurrying into the room, not entirely sure what was happening.

The moment they opened the wardrobe, a loud scream filled the room, echoing off the walls and making the two friends temporarily deaf.

Before Marcus could even figure out what was happening, Tyson clamped his hand over the girl's mouth, effectively stifling the earsplitting scream. A scream that was apparently radiating from the small frame of a young girl. As it turned out, they weren't the only ones who thought hiding in a closet would be a good idea.

"Shh, we mean you no harm. We are trying to hide as well," Tyson said as the girl's huge eyes looked at them with utter terror.

It was clear that she was very young and terrified. Her long black hair and bangs were covered in cobwebs and dust, and her general appearance was unkempt. Still, under all the dirt, Tyson could see that she had a high position in society. What was once a pristine white dress and a row of white pearls only confirmed his assumptions.

"Now, I am going to remove my hand, but please don't scream as those guys might hear you if they already haven't. Then, we'll all be in a lot of trouble," Tyson said as soothingly as he could, having in mind that he wasn't feeling at his best. "Okay?"

The girl nodded vigorously while her gaze shifted between Tyson and Marcus, two strangers who claimed not to be dangerous.

"Are you hiding from the Bolsheviks as well?" the girl asked.

The word rang a bell in Tyson's mind, but he couldn't quite recall where he had heard it.

"Are those the gloomy dudes who keep yelling around and looking nasty?" Marcus asked before Tyson could think of the best possible answer to the scared girl's questions.

"Yes," she said, not entirely understanding Marcus's way of speaking.

"We are definitely not friends of those dudes. They look like they might cut someone's head off or poke someone's eye out just because they looked at them the wrong way," Marcus said, sounding far too cheerful.

Two tears slowly ran down the girl's face when she heard that, but Marcus seemed too caught up in his storytelling to notice.

"Marcus!" Tyson yelled warningly.

"Oh, oops, sorry," Marcus said, smiling sheepishly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Ignoring his friend's blunder, Tyson decided that the best course of action was to gain the girl's trust. Thus, he chose to start with introductions.

"Hi, I am sorry about him," Tyson said gently. "My name is Tyson, and that strange guy is my friend Marcus. He is harmless, I promise. He just doesn't think before he speaks."

As he said that, Tyson smiled conspiratorially at the girl, which elicited a small smile from her. It was like sun after the rain, and Tyson thought it was much better than the heartbroken expression that had been settled on her face moments before.

"Hey!" Marcus said with indignation before a look from Tyson made him stop in his tracks.

"And what is your name?" Tyson asked the girl as softly as he could manage.

"My name is Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova," Anastasia said, offering her hand for a handshake.

Tyson's hand froze midway, causing Marcus to be the first one to accept the offered hand because that was when Tyson realized what was going on. That name, Anastasia, was all it took to make him remember the one historical event in Russia that he did learn about. One detail about Russia that many people knew even if they weren't aware they knew it.

"Anastasia, as in the Grand Duchess Anastasia?" Tyson asked, finally offering his hand for a handshake.

"Yes, that is me," Anastasia said, smiling modestly at the use of her title.

Her hands were still shaking from whatever trauma had led her to hide in the closet, but she seemed a bit more relaxed than when they first barged into her hiding place.

"Wow, so you are like a big cheese or something?" Marcus asked.

"Excuse me?" Anastasia asked, confused.

"You're like important?" Marcus rephrased his words.

"I guess so," Anastasia said, lowering her head in a mixture of embarrassment and sadness. "Important enough for these people to break into our home and hold my family at gunpoint."

Marcus wasn't sure what to say to that, but he was saved from having to say anything by the loud footsteps that were swiftly approaching.

"They heard your screams," Tyson said, looking around for a means of escape. "We have to go."

"Get in!" Anastasia said, making more room for them in the large wardrobe.

Before Tyson could protest the ridiculous idea, Marcus shoved him inside and folded himself inside as quickly as he could.

"Great, now we'll all die together," Tyson said, sarcasm dripping from his words.

Before he could drown in despair, a low sound of sliding wood reached him. Turning towards Anastasia, he saw that she had opened up the back panel of the wardrobe. To Tyson's surprise, it led to an open passageway.

"Follow me if you want to live," Anastasia whispered as she stepped into the cold passage.

"I always wanted to say that. Why does the kid get to say it, and I don't!" Marcus whisper-shouted, clearly annoyed.

"Marcus, can we talk about this later? These guys mean business," Tyson said, remembering far too clearly what the fate of Anastasia's family was or would be having in mind when they were.

"Fine," Marcus whispered as even he, who didn't know much about history, could tell that most of the time, it was a bloody ordeal.

Once they were outside the wardrobe and into the passage made of rocks and cobwebs, Anastasia quickly put the panel back in its place. Thus, making it look like any regular wardrobe, effectively covering their tracks.

She proceeded to put her finger to her mouth and gestured for them to follow her. And only once she judged they were far enough from danger did she crumble to the floor, shaking violently as the adrenaline that kept her going wore off.

"It's okay," Tyson said, patting her back awkwardly. "We're here now. You're not alone."

"Can you help me save my family?" she asked.

"Ahem, no, not really," Tyson said, remembering that as far as history was concerned, they died once the Bolsheviks came.

"Then what's the use of you two being here?" she asked, folding herself to look tiny and putting her head to her knees.

Tyson remained quiet as that was one question that he didn't have the answer to. To his surprise, even Marcus said nothing, letting the girl gather her strength before trying to figure out what to do next.