The apartment they chose for a break was, unsurprisingly, abandoned. But definitely not empty. The air reeked of old paper and the musty scent of a place that hadn’t been aired out in years.


“Well, that was suspiciously easy,” Soldier muttered as he shut the door behind him, the one he’d just kicked open without resistance.


Civilian was already looking around. It wasn’t his first time stepping into a home after years of being the first one in, and he knew exactly what to check.

The foundation seemed solid. Ceilings held. No signs that the building was about to collapse anytime soon, especially given it stood on solid rock.For now, that was enough.


Then came phase two: scavenging for supplies.


And this time, he was disappointed.


No food. No reserves. Nothing worth taking.


But that didn’t mean the apartment was empty.


Whoever had lived here had clearly been a collector. Even if they'd taken plenty with them when they left, the place was still overflowing with accumulated things. Shelves were crammed with books and stacks of old VHS tapes. Boxes were piled high with everything, and mostly, with nothing. Civilian stared in disbelief at a shelf full of tiny pewter figurines, then at a wall covered in flags from sports clubs around the world.


The collections might have been impressive, if they didn’t reek of obsession.


The entire apartment had been consumed by it. Among the piles of newspapers, flyers, and glossy magazines, there was only one narrow path winding from the kitchen to the bathroom, and from there to the bed. Which, oddly, was still immaculately made.


Everything else was buried beneath boxes, scattered objects, and, most of all...paper. Newspapers. Ads. Journals.


The pages crumbled at a touch, but many were still readable.


Soldier crouched, picked up a yellowed paper, and ran his fingers across the cover.


There was a date.

“Look at this.”


Civilian turned toward him.


Soldier held up the front page.


A photo.


Three men in white coats. And beneath them, a large bold headline:

“MIRACLE.”


Civilian frowned.

“Yeah. That’s what they called it back then…”


He took the paper, held it for a moment, then tossed it aside with a bitter expression.

“But then things kinda went sideways.”


Soldier looked at him. Didn’t ask. Not yet. Instead, he sat down on the floor and started flipping through another heap of print.There was something strangely calming about it. The dust. The silence. All those stories someone once thought were worth writing down and printing.


But did they ever really matter?


Civilian picked up another magazine. A glossy cover. Charts. Numbers. Words that made no sense now.


“Mortgage markets… housing prices…”


He scowled.

“What the hell is this?”


Soldier chuckled.

“That was a big deal back then.”


Civilian raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously? What for?”


Soldier smiled.

“For nothing, man. Absolutely nothing.”