In a war-torn village, nestled within a valley once vibrant and full of life, smoke curled from the rooftops, darkening the dawn sky. The people moved among the rubble, shadows of their former selves, solemnly burying the remnants of their love and hope—those who had perished in the chaos. Among them stood Elias, a young man with a heart heavy with loss.

He wandered through the wreckage, seeking answers in the eyes of his neighbors, only to find them lost in their grief. "What time is it?" he asked an old woman who paused in her sorrow, but time felt irrelevant now—a distant memory in a world overrun by despair. The conversations around him buzzed faintly; words exchanged without meaning, a desperate grasp for something—anything—to cling to amid the ruin.

As he walked past, a familiar street echoed in his memory. "Propekt," he murmured to himself, a name that sparked an avalanche of bittersweet recollections. “How could I forget?” Memories of laughter and light whispered through his mind, a stark contrast to the grim present.

Suddenly, the thumping rhythm of drums broke through his thoughts, a haunting pulse that resonated against his chest. He felt it in his bones; a rebellious call to remember joy amid the anguish. He longed for simplicity, to glide through life like fish swimming round in a barrel, unfettered by the weight of responsibility or loss—a fleeting wish in the face of overwhelming grief.

But reality dragged him back. Here he stood, a figure adrift in a chaotic soup bowl, desperately searching for control in currents beyond his command. The faces around him blurred, grief-stricken, as he realized he was alone in this sorrow.

Each night, as darkness enveloped the village, Elias lay beneath the vast, starry sky, feeling the weight of solitude press down on him. "I don’t want to die on my own here tonight," he whispered to the endless expanse above, hoping for a response from the stars that seemed so far away, untouched by human suffering. In that moment, Elias realized that even in a separate sky, he carried their memories, and perhaps, in that burden, he could still find a way to weave together the remnants of their existence into a tapestry of enduring love and resilience.