<div style="background-color:#353535; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><div style="text-align: justify;">"Right. Right."<br/><br/>If Vlad is not concerned, then neither is Ivan. He relaxes, letting the muzzle of the gun drop and sits back down on the box he previously occupied. It's still a little warm; a small thing for which he is disproportionately grateful. He runs a hand across his chin. It's perfectly smooth. A little pang of sadness and disgust stabs at him from somewhere in the back of his mind, as it always does whenever this particular, thoughtful gesture is performed.<br/><br/>They sit in silence for a while. Nothing more dramatic happens. The fire is beginning to burn a little lower than Ivan likes. He wonders where the men, who are supposed to come soon (he thinks; it feels like it should be soon) to relieve them of duty, are. He remembers that Vlad told him about these devices that allowed you to talk to other people on the other side of the Earth at the press of a button. The thought of news being able to travel so fast is a marvel to him. Ivan isn't sure how big the world is, exactly, but he knows it's a lot bigger than the tunnel system they live in.<br/><br/>"Vlad..." He asks, hesitantly, remembering the last thing the other said. "Have you ever been outside the Red Line?"</div></div>