The abandoned museum was as quiet as the rest of the city, but here, the silence sounded different.


It wasn’t the dreadful, suffocating emptiness of the streets, where every sound echoed endlessly and every movement risked attracting something you didn’t want to meet. Here, the quiet belonged. And in it still lived echoes of the past... children whispering by display cases, footsteps of visitors bouncing off marble floors, and the muffled voices of guides telling stories of times long gone.


Civilian walked through the corridors with a strange look in his eyes.This place wasn’t like the others they’d passed. It was more than a ruin. It was a legacy. A fragment of the old world. Something that had slipped through his fingers as a child, and now, fifteen years later, he had returned, though the world he knew had vanished.


The dog padded ahead of them, nose to the floor, claws clicking softly against the cold stone. From time to time, he lifted his head, tilting it as if trying to make sense of the broken glass cases and dust-covered statues. When something piqued his interest, he disappeared between tall pillars. Civilian paid him little attention, absorbed by the surroundings, until a sudden, sharp bark cut through the silence.


His heart nearly stopped.


Soldier and Civilian exchanged tense looks. What now? Run? That would’ve been the smart thing.


But… maybe there was another option.


The barking echoed through the halls, and it was clear now: if anything had been threatening the dog, it would’ve been over by now.


That decided it.


They wove their way between fallen columns and scattered exhibits until they reached a vast hall.


The dog stood frozen, body tense, in front of the only intact display in the room, a towering skeleton, massive and imposing, a monument to what once was.

Civilian stepped closer and brushed dust off the plaque with his fingers.


“Woolly rhinoceros,” he read softly, then looked up at the skull, its huge horn still menacing.

“…I thought they were supposed to be… bigger?”


Soldier joined him and gave a slight, amused shake of his head.

“Trust me. You wouldn’t want to meet one in person.”


The dog sniffed the bones for a while, nose twitching, trying to decide if the strange creature might still be alive. Eventually, he lost interest, sat down, yawned wide, and licked his nose.


Soldier looked up, above them, fractured glass panes in the ceiling let in the last pale rays of sunlight. Daylight was fading.


“We should move,” he said. “If we want to reach a nomad camp before dark.”


Civilian hesitated, as if reluctant to leave the museum behind. But finally, he smiled, and gave the dog a quick scratch behind the ears.


“Don’t worry. I know where the closest one is. Not far,” he reassured him, turning toward the exit.

“And maybe they’ll have something good for you too.”


He gave a sharp whistle.


The dog wagged his tail.


And the three of them stepped once more into a world where history no longer meant a thing.