Ivy: Stephen, do you ever wonder if New York is really any safer than Seattle was? I keep telling myself things will feel different when the boat to Europe comes, but... I'm not sure if I actually believe it.
Stephen: It's no safer than Seattle. At least there is no war around here, but the building we are in looks like it's about to collapse.
Ivy: Yeah, it creaks all night, doesn't it? Sometimes I just stare at the ceiling and think, if it falls, we'll both hear it coming. I keep hoping being here together means we'll make it out, but part of me still feels... stuck.
Stephen: What do you mean?
Ivy: I mean... even after everything, I still remember the way we first met. The fear and the anger hasn't left me. I know it's unfair, but sometimes it slips out, and I worry it's changing who I am. Does that make sense?
Stephen: That makes sense. We've been trying to cover it up ever since.
Ivy: I know. I see it in the way we move slowly around each other. I just... I don't want it to come between us, or hurt her. Do you ever worry she'll notice?
Stephen: She noticed all this already, she has always listened to our conversations behind the door from time to time and always wears those thin clothes even when it's cold.
Ivy: I've seen her shiver, but she won't let me help. Maybe she just wants to feel different, like she can choose her own pain. I keep thinking... what if all this just gets passed down, no matter what we do?
Stephen: I don't know. There is nothing we can convince her to wear those jackets...

(The door creaks open, their daughter standing in the frame, arms crossed but eyes searching)

Ivy: You shouldn't be out of bed, it's cold.
Daughter (trying to hide a shiver): You keep saying it's cold, but I'm fine. I just... I don't want to always feel like you pity me. Or that I have to be scared, too.
Stephen: We're worried about you. The wind is blasting through the cracks, we can't keep this decrepit room that's just about fall from the second floor warm all the time. And besides, you shouldn't have been going by yourself with your colleagues to the central park. It's dangerous, there could be infected and we can't afford having to go to Sidliste again and get the few shots that may not be even there, and besides, if you get infected, the fungi takes over the brain in a few minutes and we would have to kill you.
Daughter (voice trembling but stubborn): I know, Dad. I know about the shots and the rules. I'm not stupid. But I didn't want to be scared anymore. I wanted to see something other than these peeling walls, just for once. I wasn't looking for trouble, I promise. I just wanted to feel... normal. For a little while.
Ivy: He's right. I worry every second you're out, about the cold, about the infected, about what might happen if we lost you. I know you want things to be normal. I want that too. I just... I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you. You're everything to me.
Daughter (frustrated, but trying not to shout): You say I'm everything, but it feels like you're both holding so tight I can't even breathe and be myself. I know you want me safe, but can't you trust me, even a little?
Ivy (voice tight with concern): You never tell us what really goes on out there. If those rumors are true, you're taking risks we can't even predict. We just want to-
Daughter (cutting in, pulling up her sleeve to reveal a fading injection mark, and then handing over a few crumpled polaroids): The rumors are true. I got the vaccine. We celebrated, okay? I didn't tell you because I knew you'd freak out.
Stephen: How did they get the vaccine? It's a coast-to-coast trip and back just to get a packet of ten vials in a backpack like ours. It's five thousand kilometers between Sidliste on the West and New York on the East, dealing with all kinds of infected and concrete wastelands.
Daughter (with a small, understanding smile): One of my colleagues has a father who does shipments regularly between the coasts. He manages to sneak small things past the infected zones and checkpoints. It's dangerous, but they've been doing it for months, enough to get a handful of these vaccines quietly.
Stephen: Do you even know they are from Sidliste?
Daughter (hesitating, then quietly): Not for sure. They say the supplies come from Sidliste, but we can never be certain. It's all whispers and the hope that those shots hold up. We just take what we can get.
Ivy (firm but gentle): Please, don't take risks with the spores. We don't know if those vaccines are even real or if they work the way we hope. It's so dangerous out there, and if something goes wrong... we might not get another chance. Just promise me you'll be careful.
Daughter (exasperated): Stop being so overprotective. The guys I hang out with at school, they're not weird, they're just colleagues who sometimes go on trips. I don't go to all of them, and I'm careful. I can handle myself.
Ivy (softening, eyes watering): I know you're strong, and I want you to be free... but I don't want to lose you. We love you so much, more than anything. It's just so hard to let go when the world outside is so cruel.
Stephen (puts a hand on the arm of their daughter): You have to know that. Yeah, we both have been fighting, we both have hurt many others, and we don't want you to be hurt.
Daughter (looking at Stephen's hand on her arm): I get it. You both have fought a lot, and I know you don't want me hurt. I need some space, some time to be alone, just to breathe. But I'll try to spend more time with you.
Ivy (nodding gently): I'll give you more space, I promise. But tell us if you ever feel like you can't stay somewhere safe.
Daughter (with a tired sigh): The conversation's too much right now. I want to sit in my room, but I can't, the roof's cracking again, and last time small pieces fell on me while I was sleeping. All my things are in the bathroom, but it's not really private.
Stephen: There is nothing we can do, we live here until the building collapses, that's how all housing here is like while waiting for our boat. Now you can go in your bathroom.
Daughter (resigned, voice low as she turns away): Yeah, I guess we just wait... until the boat and until this place finally gives out. (retreats quietly into the bathroom, closing the door behind her)

---- THE NEXT DAY ----

Stephen (rushing to the bathroom and waking up the daughter): Wake up! We have to run, the building is collapsing!
Daughter (groggy but alert, scrambling to her feet): Already? Just now? Okay, okay, I'm coming! (hurriedly gathers her few belongings, heart pounding)
Stephen (also rushes to wake up Ivy in the large bedroom): Now wake up! The building is collapsing!
Ivy (startled awake, breath quickening): What? The building? We have to get out! (quickly throws on her thin clothes and moves toward the door)
Stephen: Okay, now we all stay calm. The stairway, being built inside a column, is the most resistant structure out here. We get down to the ground floor and we exit building in an organized manner. The structure is not going to collapse like a pancake.

(The daughter, Ivy, and Stephen cautiously but quickly descend the stairway, their footsteps echoing in the tense air. As they reach the ground floor, they step outside just in time to watch concrete chunks falling off the building, the structure collapsing in a cloud of dust and debris. They stand together, shaken but safe, hearts pounding, as the ruins settle behind them)

Daughter (voice breaking, tears falling): What if we hadn't gotten out in time? What if that roof had fallen on us while we slept? I'm so scared... I don't want to think about it.
Ivy (holding the daughter close, voice steady but anxious): It's okay. We're safe now. We might have to sleep in sleeping bags at the port tonight, it's not much, but it's better than being trapped under rubble.
Stephen (looking at a collapsed corner at second floor): And look at our room, it only partially collapsed. The daughter's room collapsed, the bathroom is partially gone, and the main room almost entirely collapsed.
Ivy (staring at the ruins, voice heavy): It's worse than I thought. We're really losing everything here.
Daughter (quietly, tears in eyes): This was the only place I had. Now it's just rubble. What do we even do next?
Stephen: We carry everything in our backpacks and continue to wait for the boat. It should arrive in a week by now.
Ivy (hoisting her backpack with a tired sigh): We'll get through this week somehow. Just keep your head up and your things close.
Daughter (nodding, trying to be strong): The boat will come. We have to believe it will.

(They carefully find a quiet spot by the port. Together, they spread out a blanket and arrange three sleeping bags, trying to make the makeshift camp as comfortable as possible on the cold concrete pavement. They settle in, weary but hopeful for the coming days)

Stephen: Ivy, you fell in love with me because you feared being lonely, right? You were the one who wanted to have a child.
Ivy (looking away for a moment): Yes, maybe at first it was the fear of loneliness... but it grew into so much more. I wanted to build a family and have someone to hold onto.
Stephen: You know we could have remained friends and still have children, the boundaries into what constitutes a relationship are ambiguous.
Ivy (thoughtful, nodding slowly): You're right. Relationships aren't in neat categories. Maybe we could have been something different, still connected, still a family, without everything being so complicated.
Stephen: Now we are being so worried that our daughter hears everything of what we say. What if she picked up every problem that we have?
Daughter (curious but cautious): I've always wondered what you both really did before. I never knew you were a WLF soldier, Mom, or that you were a fisherman, Dad. Now that I'm 17, I don't get why some things are still kept from me.
Ivy (softly, with a hint of regret): Some things were kept hidden because we wanted to protect you. We were trying to completely shield you from the dangers and pain we faced.
Stephen: Now we can't do that anymore, so I'll tell more of my story. I lived in a small village somewhere on the west coast. Life was hard, there always wasn't enough food for everyone. So, every day, I woke up at 4 AM to sit in a queue that was already forming at the fishery. And when I got to the baskets, they were always nearly empty. The fruits and legumes barely grew, the terrain wasn't fertile but we couldn't move. And then, after I got my own food, I started fishing, like everyone did. When I grew up, I managed to get an old, abandoned car functioning, and I have been travelling to Seattle, and I encountered Ivy. I was about to kill her from the back, thinking about it is too much, but anyways, my car broke down and we got to the bus station and we got to Sidliste. There was no vaccine yet, the news are only recent, but life was good in all the new prefab blocks. Ivy got pregnant, and you were born, and then you know how it goes.
Daughter (wide-eyed, absorbing the new layer of her father's past): I never knew any of that. It's so different from the life we have now... I'm surprised and a little overwhelmed.
Ivy (reflective, sharing her own journey): I was born in the WLF, and I was a fighter for most of my life, even after the Collective took over and made the old ideologies outdated. I was always on missions, barely had time for myself, and never expected to have a normal life, but then you came along, and everything changed.
Stephen: Initially, I didn't want you to get born, not until the cure is released or it's all over, but Ivy insisted, and I agreed to having you as the only child.
Daughter (quietly, processing the weight of her parents' decision): So I was your only child because you both hoped for a better time... but wanted to protect me from all this until then.
Stephen: Yeah, we wanted to protect you from all of that, not just from our conversations or your peers. We have been so dedicated into growing you up, we have tried so hard to teach you even before school. In the primaries we have tried to make you good at maths.
Daughter (nodding thoughtfully): I see. You really poured everything into making sure I had a chance, even before school started. I'll try to live up to that.
Ivy (softly, with a small smile): You already make us proud every day, even just by being yourself. No matter what happens, we'll always be here for you.
Stephen: And I hope that you'll do better in life than we did. We made so many mistakes that shouldn't have been made. We should have made less suffering around us.
Daughter (looking determined, voice steady): I'll try. I want to make better choices. I don't want to carry your mistakes, but learn from them.
Ivy (yawning softly): It's been a short night from the sudden chaos... I'm really tired now.
Stephen (rubbing his eyes, voice low): Me too. Let's get some rest when we can.
Daughter (eyes heavy, voice quiet): Yeah... I'm exhausted. I need to try to sleep now.

---- AFTER A FEW DAYS ----

(Ivy sits quietly on one of the worn benches of the ferry's deck, wrapped in a thin blanket, staring out at the gray sea. Their daughter stands nearby, clutching her backpack straps, watching the disappearing shore with a mix of hope and sadness)

Daughter (softly): It's really happening. It's hard to accept that we're leaving all of this behind...
Ivy (looking at her, voice gentle): I know. Change is hard. But maybe this is our chance to find something better.

(Suddenly, a few familiar faces from Sidliste approach the daughter. They gather near her, exchanging smiles and quick hugs)

Peer 1: Hey, you're really coming with your parents, huh? Didn't think you'd trust yourself on this trip.
Daughter (smiling nervously): Yeah, I guess I surprised everyone. It's scary, but I want to see what's out there. You ready for this?
Peer 2 (grinning): As ready as we'll ever be. It's better than waiting around in that decaying city. Europe's a whole new start.
Peer 3 (handing her a small wrapped snack): Here, for the trip. Keep your strength up.
Daughter (accepting it, eyes brightening a bit): Thanks. I'm glad we get to go together. It makes it feel less lonely.
Ivy (smiling warmly): Take care of each other out there. Stay close, stay safe.
Peers (in unison): We will. And we'll see you on the other side.

(The boat's horn sounds loudly as it slowly pulls away from the dock, the city's silhouette fading into the mist. They all watch quietly, hearts heavy but hopeful)

Stephen: They are still here on the boat, if you want to retreat to your friends or whatever. We promise not be overbearing.
Ivy: We'll promise to give you the space you need, as we did before, but don't forget we're just a few steps away if you want to talk.
Daughter (glancing at her friends, then back to her parents): Thanks, Dad. I think I'll spend some time with them now, but I'll come back before dinner.

(The daughter walks inside the ferry where her friends are, finding a quiet corner near a window. They sit on the floor, leaning against the wall as the ferry gently rocks)

Friend: So, you want to learn some Czech? It's useful to know here in Europe.
Daughter (nodding eagerly): Yeah, I want to be ready. Teach me something simple.
Friend (clearing throat): Okay, start with this. "Dobrý den", it means "Good day".
Daughter (repeating carefully): "Dobrý den"... Good day. Got it.
Friend (grinning): Try this next: "Jak se máš?" That means "How are you?"
Daughter (concentrating): "Jak se máš?", How are you?
Friend (nodding): Perfect! Now you say, "Jmenuji se..." and then your name. It means "My name is..."
Daughter: "Jmenuji se"... My name is... (pauses) Jana.
Friend (laughing): Well done! You're a fast learner.
Jana: What's next?
Friend: Try this one: "Prosím", it means "Please", and "Děkuji" means "Thank you".
Jana (carefully): "Prosím"... and "Děkuji".
Friend (nodding): Exactly! Now, let's try something longer. "Kde je nejbližší zastávka autobusu?", it means "Where is the nearest bus stop?"
Jana (pausing, then repeating): "Kde je nejbližší zastávka autobusu?"
Another Friend (approaches, overhearing the conversation): Hey, I heard Czech! I'm from Central Europe too, but I speak Polish.
Jana: That's cool! Do you know any Czech?
Another Friend (laughing lightly): A little, but I'm better at Polish. Want to try?
Friend: Sure!
Another Friend (sitting down): In Polish, "Hello" is "Cześć", and "Thank you" is "Dziękuję".
Jana (trying to repeat): "Cześć" and "Dziękuję". Not easy!
Another Friend: Let's try some more. "Jak się masz?" means "How are you?"
Jana (repeating): "Jak się masz?"
Another Friend: Good! Now try answering "Dobrze, dziękuję. A ty?" which means "Good, thank you. And you?"
Jana (pausing, then carefully): "Dobrze, dziękuję. A ty?"
Friend (impressed): You're getting the hang of it fast!
Another Friend: And for "Please", it's "Proszę". Similar to Czech, right?
Jana (nodding): Yeah, "Proszę"... I like how some words sound alike.
Friend: They do! It helps us a lot moving through different countries.
Another Friend: Here's a tricky one, "Gdzie jest najbliższy przystanek autobusowy?", "Where is the nearest bus stop?"
Jana (struggling but determined): "Gdzie jest najbliższy przystanek autobusowy?"
Friend (encouraging): You're doing great. Just takes practice!

(They continue practicing Polish and Czech phrases at the same time. After a few hours, the group quiets down, looking a bit worn out. Their energy seems to have faded while the ferry continues moving on)

Jana (rubbing her eyes): Why are we getting so tired so fast? It feels like we just started the trip.
Friend (yawning): I'm not sure. Maybe it's the stress... or all the new things we're trying to take in at once.
Another Friend (thoughtful): Could be the lack of real rest lately, and this boat rocking nonstop doesn't help either.
Jana (nodding slowly): Yeah, sleeping in the bathroom or on cold concrete doesn't leave much energy for anything else.
Friend: Makes sense. Bodies need time to calm down and heal from everything.
Another Friend: Maybe once we can get proper rest, we'll feel better.
Jana (worried): But what if this ferry doesn't have anywhere to actually rest? It's just... so cramped.
Friend (pointing): There's that big room at the back of the boat. I saw the door open earlier. Maybe we can check if it's empty and settle there for a bit.
Jana (hopeful): That sounds perfect. Let's go see if it's free.

(They walk through the narrow, dimly lit hallway downstairs. At the end of the corridor, they reach a large room with a clean red carpet and warm yellow lighting. Several proper beds are arranged neatly along the walls, though there are some scattered blankets and a few backpacks tossed carelessly)

Friend: Looks like someone's been here before us, but it's still pretty tidy.
Jana (relieved): Yeah, this is so much better than sitting on the cold floor.
Another Friend (flopping onto a bed): Finally, a place to stretch out.
Jana (settling down on the carpet): Let's try to keep it clean. We don't want to make it worse than it already is.
Friend (laughing): Agreed. But a little mess is okay, as long as we get some sleep.

(One of the friends reaches over to an old radio sitting on a shelf and switches it on. Soft jazz music begins to fill the room, its gentle rhythms contrasting with the creaking on the ferry)

Another Friend: Some music to lighten the mood.

(The jazz plays for a few minutes before the music fades into a radio transmission in Czech)

Radio Voice: "Vítejte v Central Radio, máme pro vás důležité sdělení. Za 5 dní je 40% pravděpodobnost silného větru v Atlantiku, který dosáhne stupně 8 na Beaufortově stupnici. Všichni cestující, kteří se právě nacházejí na moři, by se měli připravit na možné vysoké vlny. Kromě toho bude během silného větru pršet."

(The Czech friend listens carefully, then turns to the group)

Friend: The message says that in five days, there's about a 40% chance of strong winds in the Atlantic, reaching Force 8 on the Beaufort scale. We should all prepare for high waves and some rain during the storm.
Another Friend (nodding): Sounds like we need to be ready for rough seas ahead.
Jana (worried): Five days isn't long. We should be as ready as possible before then.
Friend (smiling reassuringly): Don't worry too much. The ferry is actually pretty well prepared for rough weather. (pointing to the walls): See those vertical metal bars? They're reinforcements to help the structure withstand strong winds and rough seas.
Another Friend: Yeah, the boat seems to have been designed to handle storms like that, so we should be safe as long as we stay inside.
Jana (taking a deep breath): That makes me feel a little better. Thanks for explaining.

(A sharp knock sounds on the door. One of the ferry crew members stands outside, holding a small emergency kit)

Crew Member (speaking firmly but kindly): Excuse me, everyone. With the forecasted storm approaching, please start packing your things and be ready to move quickly if needed. (handing over the kit) This is an emergency kit with basic supplies, such as food, water, and some medical items. Keep it close at all times.
Friend (taking the kit): Thank you. We'll make sure to be prepared.

(The crew member nods and leaves the room. The group starts gathering their belongings, folding blankets and organizing backpacks with tired but swift movements)

Jana (sighing): I'm glad we have the kit, but I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.
Another Friend (yawning): Same here. Let's pack quickly and then rest while we can.

(They finish packing and slowly lie down on the beds and the carpet, wrapping themselves in light blankets and their breathing evening out as exhaustion takes over)

---- FIVE DAYS LATER ----

(The room is dim and filled with the steady sound of rain and wind battering the ferry's hull. The friends are resting but only partially asleep, their bodies tense from the rolling storm outside. Suddenly, a patrol dog slips through the open door and hesitates before jumping up beside one of the friends, settling close with wide, nervous eyes)

Friend (softly stroking the dog): Hey there, it's okay. You're safe here.

(Shortly after, another passenger enters the room, calling out)

Passenger (calling): Max! Come here! (sees the dog lying calmly with the group and gently wakes the friend beside the dog) Sorry to wake you. Max got scared by what's happening on the outside. He usually likes being around kids when he's nervous.
Jana (whispering): It's okay. He seems to need us just as much as we need him right now.
Passenger: Yeah, he's a good dog. Keeps watch and keeps spirits up.
Friend (curious): Who are you? I don't think we've met yet.
Passenger: I'm Camilla. My story's nothing special, just someone trying to get through this like everyone else. And yes, I wear this crown hairstyle because I like it, and it keeps my hair out of my face.
Friend (nodding): Nice to meet you, Camilla. I'm Jakub.
Another Friend: I'm Aron.
Jana: And I'm Jana.
Camilla (curious): Are you all from Sidliste? That area in Seattle?
Jakub (nodding): Yeah, we're all from there.
Aron: What about you? Where are you from?
Camilla (sighing): I'm from Pinedale, a tiny, self-sustaining village. We started running out of resources when we tried to build defenses. It wasn't enough to hold.
Jana (thoughtful): Small places like that have it just as hard sometimes. It's good to meet someone from outside the city, though.
Ivy (entering the room, concerned): Jana, why haven't you been coming back down before dinner like you promised?
Jana (softly): Sometimes I'm just not hungry. I can eat by myself when I need to. It's not easy to explain.
Ivy (nodding slowly): I understand. Just don't forget we worry about you, okay?
Jana (smiling faintly): I know, Mom. I'll try to check in more, but only when I can.

(Ivy leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Camilla looks thoughtfully at Jana and the others)

Camilla: I've noticed something about children from Sidliste; they often seem reserved, even though they have many peers and a few close friends. I'm not sure why that is.
Jana (quietly): My mom was a WLF fighter during the factional war. I think a lot of us grew up with that kind of history hanging over us. It makes trusting people and opening up harder than usual.
Jakub (nodding): Yeah, it changes how you see the world, and how careful you are with who you let in.
Camilla: That makes sense. It sounds like there's a lot beneath the surface that others don't see.
Aron (speaks quietly after the group nods in agreement, reflecting on Camilla's observation): I was born in Katowice, but my parents moved to Sidliste when I was three. I barely remember what it was like there.
Jakub (nodding): I'm similar. I was born in Pilsen, but my family moved when I was four. Growing up in Sidliste has been my whole life, mostly.
Jana (softly): I was born in Sidliste, just after my parents, Ivy and Stephen, came from the broader Seattle area. My mom's from Seattle itself, and my dad's from a small fishing village.
Camilla (thoughtful): Interesting how all of you have roots from different places, but Sidliste became home. It must shape how you see everything.

(Camilla's dog trots over to her, wagging its tail and nuzzling affectionately against her side. Camilla kneels to pet the dog, a warm smile spreading across her face. The dog then suddenly bolts toward the far side of the large room, sniffing around energetically)

Camilla (hesitating): I've never really checked out this whole room until now. Would it be okay if I settled here with you all for a while? Just so Max and I can stay close.
Jakub (nods after exchanging looks with Aron): Yeah, that's fine.
Aron (also nods after exchanging looks with Jakub): It's better to stick together.
Jana: Of course. We're in this together. Settle in.
Camilla (smiling shyly): I didn't expect you to actually let me join you all in here. I mean, you're all teenagers and friends, and I'm an adult and different.
Jana (gently): Yeah, but during a storm like this, it's fine. We're all just trying to stay safe and rested.
Aron (nodding): What matters is looking out for each other. You're part of us as long as you want to be.

(Camilla sits down on one of the free beds and pulls the blanket up around her shoulders. The others lie down on their own beds)

Camilla (softly): This trip always makes me feel tired... and during a storm like this, it's even harder to sleep.
Jana (nodding): The rocking and noise always make it tough, even with proper rest.
Aron (quietly): We just have to ride it out and take whatever rest we can.
Jakub (closing his eyes): Tomorrow will be better. We have to hold on tonight.