The rest of the run had been almost tiring; Sergei had become worn out just watching it, and by the end he was so ready to sleep that he'd stopped worrying about Ocelot.

Despite that, he turned dutifully to face Isaev when he requested that they see that the new blood made it the next morning. Nodding, a tad drowsy, he turned to Matvei while covering his mouth with his hand as he yawned.

"Let's get to bed," he muttered, grabbing for his bunkmate's wrist as he headed for the doors that would take them out of the East Wing.