Alexei Nikolaevich Romanov

Alexei didn't know what would happen to him now that he was dying again. He didn't come from this world. He is a transmigrator. He came from 21st-century Earth, where modern things are available. Easy access to the internet and food was always heaven for him, and then he died due to a car accident when he went to get his take-out food from a fast food chain.

When he regained consciousness, he was reborn in this world of cultivation. He thought that he might be the main character of this world and would have a golden finger bestowed upon him, because that's what the transmigrator always gets every time they reincarnate in a new world, but he didn't. He didn't get any golden finger or a system. Still, he persevered and joined a sect to attain immortality and unparalleled strength, despite the hardship and constant killing required to obtain resources. His primary focus in cultivation and techniques is assassination. He is still capable of fighting his enemies head-on, but a quick and clean death is what he prefers. And now he is here lying and dying in an unknown place because he is betrayed by his senior brothers who don't want to share the heavenly treasures they got from this place. Oh, how wrong he is to think that he is the protagonist of this world and story, only to end up dying because of his foolishness. Death is not something foreign to him, and now he is thinking of what will happen to him. Will he be reborn again? Will he be the protagonist in his next life? Or he dies truly and joins others in oblivion. All of these were what he was thinking as he took his last breath.

November 15, 1895

"Push, Your Majesty," urged the chief midwife, assisting the noblewoman as she prepared to give birth in a large room bustling with people. This lady was the wife of the Tsar of Imperial Russia, and the atmosphere was charged with urgency and chaos. The chief midwife and her team worked diligently to wipe the sweat and blood from the lady's body, ensuring she remained as comfortable as possible. Surgeons and physicians were also present, ready to intervene in case any complications arose during the delivery or to perform a physical examination on the baby once it was born. Despite her exhaustion, the lady displayed remarkable courage as she faced the trials of childbirth.

"Push, Your Majesty! The head is showing. It will be over soon," the midwife called out again when she saw the baby's head emerging. This time, the noble lady didn't hesitate and pushed with all her strength. It worked. Soon, the room was filled with the sound of a baby crying, so loud that it seemed to resonate throughout the entire palace.

"It's a prince, Your Majesty!" the midwife exclaimed with a smile as she wiped the blood and grime from the newborn. The birth of the prince filled everyone in the room with joy. It seemed more significant to them that he was a prince rather than a princess. "And he will be a strong prince, judging by how loudly he cries!" The empress didn't hear any of this, as she was too exhausted and fell asleep as soon as she confirmed that the baby had been delivered.

Not long after the door opened, the Tsar of Imperial Russia entered upon hearing his son's cries. He looked at the baby with a smile, filled with happiness, clearly delighted that he had a prince. His gaze was pulled away when the midwife handed the baby to him to hold. He was surprised to see the baby staring back at him with wide eyes, and the infant stopped crying. The Tsar felt immense joy at having an heir, especially one who was robust, as indicated by the strength of his cries.

"Alexei, his name will be Alexei Nikolaevich," he said gently, cradling his son as he watched him drift off to sleep in his arms. Afterward, he handed the baby back to the midwife and checked on his wife. Seeing that she was simply asleep and exhausted filled him with relief. Shortly after, the rest of his family entered the room, gazing at the sleeping prince. Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovich, the third in line for succession now after his brother Grand Duke George Alexandrovich and the newly born Alexei, congratulated him with a pat on the arm. "Congratulations, brother! It seems you can relax now that you have an heir." Nicholas was glad to sense that he genuinely meant it. He smiled and replied, "Thank you, brother." He is still sad that his brother, Grand Duke George Alexandrovich, couldn't be with him at this moment. A second later, Grand Duchess Xenia Alexandrovna also offered her congratulations before turning her attention to the baby, leaving her brothers to continue their conversation.

It didn't take long for the family members to arrive and check on the baby. Once they satisfied their curiosity, they left one by one. Nicholas turned to his aide. "Arrange for a baptism as soon as possible. Also, prepare for a grand banquet to be held in the coming months to celebrate the birth of my son and heir." He spoke while they were in the birthing room together, clearly overjoyed. He was willing to spare no expense to make this the grandest banquet in centuries. Although he was still grieving the death of his father, Alexander III, this was a time for celebration. With the birth of his son and heir, it was time for the empire to revel in joy.

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty." Boris, the trusted aide to the Tsar, replied before excusing himself to begin planning the baptism and the banquet. He needed to send letters to the nobles and other important figures in the empire. Considering the time it takes for the letters to be delivered and for guests to travel to St. Petersburg, as well as the need for the baby to be healthy enough to be presented at court, the grand banquet would be held six months from now, while the baptism could be carried out as soon as possible. Boris was thrilled that the Tsar had welcomed a son and heir as their first child with the Tsarina. He was determined to ensure that this banquet would be the grandest event held in the century. To accomplish this, he needed to gather his subordinates to develop a detailed plan.

Not long after the birth Alexei Nikolaevich Romanov. A formal Orthodox baptism was held in the Church of the Holy Apostles Peter & Paul.

Soon after that, an official announcement was made throughout the empire. It states that. "From now on, in accordance with the Fundamental Laws of the Empire, the Imperial title of Heir Tsarevich, and all the rights pertaining to it, belong to Our Son Alexei." The people rejoiced while the revolutionaries didn't.

6 months later…

Alexei was unsure whether to laugh or cry out of happiness as soon as he realized he had been reborn. No one wants to die, or at least that's what he believes. This belief is why he feels a deep sense of joy inside, even if it doesn't show on his baby face. He is curious about where he has landed this time. Given the number of visitors he receives and their fancy clothing, it seems that his new family holds a prominent position in this country or this world. He rarely laughs, even when people try to make him smile. Instead, he just stares at them with curiosity.

It was hard at first, but this is not the first time for Alexei to become a baby. Surely the first time, he didn't know about it. But the second time during his first reincarnation, surely he experienced it first hand, and it was to be in the body that can't even move freely, just shit and piss all the time. And now he is experiencing it again, and after the happiness of being reborn again subsided, comes the bitterness of living through the life of being a baby again.

Alexei was always listening to the conversations around him while pretending to sleep. He despises this body, it can hardly stay awake for more than a few hours. He only wakes up when he is hungry or needs to relieve himself. After six months of constant eavesdropping and comparing words to actions, he has begun to understand the language and his situation. He realizes he is in the Empire of Russia, with his name as Alexei, his father as Nicholas II, and his mother as Alexandra Feodorovna. This knowledge helps him understand that he is now in his original world but in the past. Oh! How he wishes he could smash everything within reach with his tiny arms and hands! But he can't. If whoever is responsible for his reincarnation had the power, why not send him back to the modern world instead of the past? Nonetheless, he calms down, after all, he has already experienced the brutality and harshness of the cultivation world. The late 1800s and early 1900s are still more appealing compared to that. Though he doesn't remember much history from his first life, he knows for certain that World War I is approaching. He also remembers so little of the name given to him by his father, Alexei, as he only knew that this Alexei was the youngest of Tsar Nicholas II's children and the only son. This leads him to wonder: where are his sisters? "Damn, there's so much to think about," he muses. The history he learned from his past life consists solely of the monarchs, their families, and the empires that existed, and even that is only a superficial understanding. He guesses he will have to make the best of what he has. Still, he promises himself to live this life to the fullest and to avoid dying before reaching old age, after all, he has yet to experience what it means to grow old.

During these 6 months, Alexei was trying to feel qi in this world using many cultivation techniques he knows from the cultivation world. He noted that the qi in this world is very thin, he can hardly feel it, but it's there. After repeated tries of using many cultivation techniques, from high grade to the lowest. Only the low quality body cultivation technique that he got from his second life works. It is a cultivation technique that enhances body strength, agility and senses. It only strengthens the body and nothing more. He got bitter after confirming that he can't try cultivating some powerful cultivation techniques that can let him conquer this world with ease and be revered as God. But he soon got over it. He will not conquer the world anyway. Oh, the drama and politics that comes with it already gives him a headache. All he wants is to live as freely as possible. Being Tsesarevich is already a privilege, while being emperor is more than one can expect. If he and his family will survive the revolutions of course. He doesn't want to play politics if he can, if possible solve everything through assassination but he knows that it is impossible in this world. Well, he will face it when the time comes.

Anyway, Maybe the heaven defying techniques are just powerful for this world or he got nerfed before reincarnating for balance or the qi is not sufficient enough for other cultivation techniques. No matter what, this body cultivation technique is still enough for him to at least survive this world that is full of revolutions, uprising and wars. Right now, Alexei is trying to cultivate the only cultivation technique that works in this world while pretending to sleep. Who knows how long it is for him to get through level 9 Body Cultivation? The qi here in this world is so thin that it might never exist if not for his complete cultivation technique. So, he better start early than nothing.

Alexei is currently pretending to be asleep while he examines his body for any diseases or issues. He has discovered that he indeed has a disease, but he is unsure of what it is. Nevertheless, he wants to determine if his body cultivation technique can cure or at least suppress the illness. He feels nervous because this is a low-quality cultivation technique, and he worries it might not be effective against this type of disease. Fortunately, after repeated attempts and channeling qi into his body, Alexei begins to feel a slow and gentle healing process taking place, although he knows it will take some time. Still, he is grateful to realize that the disease can be healed.

Alexei didn't know how long he was faking his sleeping when he got disturbed by one of his maids. Seriously, he didn't even have his own privacy in this world. He thought. "Your Imperial Highness, it's time to wake up for the banquet." She took Alexei into her arms and started dressing him like a peacock that is itchy to the max. He doesn't want to go through this experience again if he can avoid it, but he can't, so he remains silent while watching the maid dress him. He listens to her talk, pretending for him to understand her, even though he actually can.

Alexei was taken from his room by the maid and brought to his mother, who smiled brightly when she saw him arrive. She embraced him and showered his face with kisses, much to his annoyance. Despite this, he continued to express his irritation, flailing his arms in an attempt to stop her, which only made her laugh more.

"Look at our little Alexei, he doesn't want her mother's kisses anymore." She pretended to pout and look at her husband who was beside her watching this all while smiling brightly. The other members of their family were content to only watch the interaction from afar.

"You can kiss him more after the banquet if you want, but we need to go now and present Alexei to the guests." With that, the Tsar of Imperial Russia stood up from his seat and began leading his wife and family to the banquet hall where the nobles and important people of the empire are currently waiting for them.

Banquet Hall

"Damn, these people are really dressed for the occasion, and what is this? Too much perfume." That's what Alexei initially thought when he saw the people in the banquet hall. Even from the door, he can already smell the different perfumes these people spray themselves with and he already feels dizzy by the smell. They all stood up when the Tsar of Imperial Russia arrived with his family. They were all smiling and offered blessings like it was just the cheapest thing in the world. But Alexei knew that behind the smiling faces are snakes ready to pounce when there's an opportunity to strike. Still, he really didn't care much about what they think, he's already satisfied as long as they don't bother him and those he cares about. Does he have someone he cares about in this world? That requires time to think about since he really doesn't feel very much attached to his current family.

Soon, Alexei was being held by his personal maid and paraded like some kind of a saint in front of these people. Alexie memorizes the names of people as they are introduced. He knows this will be useful in the future. He doesn't know much about these historical people, he only knows the names of the relevant organizations or revolutionaries. Who studies history while they are in high school? All he cared about at that time was games.

He played it cool while being paraded, only resorting to staring and sometimes smiling if there is something interesting. But damn, these perfumes are killing his nostrils already. He complained in his mind.

He also met his uncle, Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovich of Russia, he looks happy even though he is moved back to third in line to the throne after the birth of Alexei.

It didn't take long for Alexei to fall asleep while being led by his personal maid with the tsar and tsarina throughout the banquet and his father orders his son to be taken back to his room to rest and announces for the real banquet to begin which made the people say "Za zdorovje" and the banquet truly begins with alcohol and presenters being bought which liven the atmosphere more. The party lasted until evening when the tsars and tsarina retired to their rooms for rest.

Alexei didn't know if the banquet was really for him or just an excuse by his father and mother to party when he heard how long the party lasted but he didn't care, at least peace came back after a week. He began cultivating with gusto to gain some strength to at least crawl or stand up soon because it really feels suffocating just lying and waiting for the maids to pick you up. By the speed that he is gaining qi, Alexei estimated that he will be 2 years old by the time he reaches level 1 body cultivation technique which is quite slow by his standard and he can't do anything about it. Still, he is thankful that he can be ahead of other people in this world in terms of strength. While thinking, Alexei thought that he might need 3 years to reach level 2 body cultivation after reaching level 1 body cultivation to reach the strength of an average adult with the body of a child. And that's what Alexei does until he reaches 5 years old, cultivating.

August 1900

Tsarina Alexandra was brushing her hair in front of her vanity table, dressed only in her nightgown. Deep in thought, she didn't notice when someone entered the room. It wasn't until she caught an image in the mirror that she realized she wasn't alone. Startled, she jumped up with a yelp and turned to see who it was. To her relief, it was just her husband. She placed a hand on her chest and glared at him. "What were you doing sneaking up on me, husband?"

"You're mistaken, my love. I wasn't sneaking up on you. You looked so deep in thought that you didn't even notice me opening the door," Tsar Nicholas II said with a smile. He gently led his wife back to her chair as he began preparing for sleep.

The tsarina brushed her hair until she was satisfied, then lay down next to her husband. She remained silent and simply rested beside him.

After a while, the Tsar couldn't take the silence anymore, he asked, "So, what were you thinking about?" He turned to face his wife in bed, clearly wanting to chat with her.

"I'm just worried about Alexei," murmured Alexandra. "He's just… I don't know. So quiet? He didn't even play that much when he was younger. I overheard the maids gossiping about our son, saying he was sitting with each foot placed on opposite thighs, his back perfectly straight, and hands resting calmly on his knees. Do you think he's doing that because he's in pain or something? It's not normal for a boy his age to sit like that, is it? I'm afraid there's something wrong with him. You know Alexei; he doesn't talk unless someone asks him a direct question. Even then, he keeps it brief. It's like he's retreating into himself. I'm also concerned that this will spark gossip around the court about our son."

Tsarina Alexandra couldn't shake the persistent knot of anxiety tightening in her chest whenever her thoughts drifted to her only son. Alexei is five years old now, yet he remains a quiet boy. He rarely speaks unless prompted, and even in the presence of other children playing, he tends to keep to himself. Ever since his birth, she proudly shared stories with other noble ladies and friends about how well-behaved he was, only crying when he was hungry or needed to be changed. Now, she finds herself wishing her son would behave more like other children, being noisy and a bit unruly.

When she gave birth to her eldest daughter, Olga, she experienced for the first time how challenging it is to take care of a baby. At first, she felt confused by how different the experience was. She initially thought it was simply because she had a baby girl this time. However, after discussing with her friends and noble ladies at court, she learned that they all found parenting to be hard and exhausting, especially if they didn't have wet nurses. They assured her that there was no difference between boys and girls, both would crawl, walk everywhere, and pick up anything they could hold.

In contrast, her son behaved differently. He would sit quietly when an adult was around, choosing to hold his books instead of playing with the toys scattered nearby.

When she gave birth for the third time, her suspicion that her son was very different was confirmed. Her third child was unruly and would often cry for things she couldn't have, unlike her son, Alexei. Though she loved him dearly, she couldn't shake the thought that there might be some health issue affecting him. She recalled their travels to Scotland, France, and Darmstadt, during which she had asked doctors to examine Alexei. All three doctors confirmed that he was in good health. Even her grandmother, Queen Victoria, scolded her for being overly paranoid. Her grandmother appreciated Alexei for being quiet and well-behaved during their visits. As a mother, she could only hope and pray that her son was truly healthy and that there was nothing wrong with him.

—--

"Hello? Alexandra?" Nicholas II gently nudged his wife when he noticed that she was zoning out after expressing her worries. He often had to comfort her each time she fretted needlessly, despite the doctors confirming numerous times that their son was healthy. She still struggled to let go of her anxiety, especially since her son behaved differently from other children.

"Ah?" His wife was jolted from her thoughts, clearly embarrassed for spacing out right after her rant. He sighed and comforted her. "Don't worry about our son anymore. He's okay. In fact, I was just with him a while ago, and he answered every question I asked perfectly. I think our son is a genius, he loves books and tends to isolate himself. I've heard that's what geniuses do. I just hope he stops isolating himself, as he will need friends when the time comes. Anyway, try not to show this side of yourself to our son, as it might hurt his feelings."

His wife initially struggled with her feelings but eventually nodded. He sighed at this and was about to sleep when his wife asked, "What about the rumors? The maids are already talking about it."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it. Let's just say our son is using my secret method to become more handsome. Don't you think he looks handsome like me? I'm a bit concerned that he might surpass me in the future. He's also taller for his age. Tsk tsk." His wife smirked at that, and he returned the smirk. "Anyway, are you feeling calm now? Let's get some sleep." His wife eventually nodded. He then shifted to a more comfortable position when he heard his wife's voice again, "I can't sleep. I heard the army is moving into Manchuria."

It seems that sleep will elude him once more. After finding a comfortable position to talk, he began recounting the matter. He never expected that ruling could be so difficult, from the stampede that followed his coronation to the social unrest that ensued. The death of his brother, Grand Duke George Alexandrovich, brought him profound grief and sorrow. Fortunately, his wife has been there for him, and the economy is thriving.

November, 1900

The night was unusually dark in the dirty, narrow slum street in St. Petersburg. The barely visible moon in the sky can't penetrate the tightly made houses with roof extensions. At most, the occasional candlelight coming out from the door and window cracks of the dwellings provided some illumination.

A boy, with a hood and mask, calmly navigated the alleys as he headed for his destination. The boy met people with different kinds of features along the way, the most prominent of them all were skeletal figures, so thin and frail that a mere touch might break them.

After a few turns and cautious glances over his shoulder, he finally arrived at his destination, a small, weathered hut nestled between two slightly larger houses. Its door was barely visible in the dim alley, half-hidden by shadows and age. He knocked in a deliberate, coded rhythm. Moments later, a small peephole slid open with a soft scrape, and a pair of eyes peered out. The sound of multiple locks clicking open followed, and the door creaked inward. The boy slipped inside without a word and quickly shut the door behind him.

Alexei took his hood off but left the mask on, he calmly scanned the room. The girl, who opened the door, walked toward the frail boy in the bed. He looked at the corner and saw the twins who stood up after seeing him. He didn't say anything and just stood there. After a while he uttered "Let's begin."

He took the sack behind him and gestured to the girl to take it. Bread, some apples, and a few leftover foods he took from the kitchen of Winter Palace are within. The twins, Sergey and Ivan began setting up the table with papers, dip pens, fountain pens, and books. Alexei sat beside the table and began checking the papers writing, what he saw was crooked letters barely forming words and another with misspellings, barely readable. He didn't say anything, just picked up a book and handed it to the girl who returned with her youngest brother, Petrov, after storing the food. "Anna, begin reading from chapter three." With that, Alexei began multitasking. Listening to Anna's reading while correcting some pronunciation and teaching the twins with Petrov proper writing.

After 2 hours of reading and writing studies, he began teaching them self defense. He didn't dare teach them extreme skills, these kids are still developing, so he had them practice the basic approach of how to defend themselves if they can't outrun their opponents. 1 hour later, he stopped the training and told them to sleep after wiping the sweat off their bodies. He gestured for Anna to follow him. After walking to a corner, he sat down and gestured for Anna to do the same.

"Any news?" What Alexei needed the most is information, not the general, exaggerated and censored news everyone can read in the newspaper, but the news people will often dismiss in high society. The kind of news the lowest of the lows shared, beggars, pickpockets, drunkards, washerwomen and stable boys. They share not headlines, but fragments when pulled together can unravel far greater.

Anna, who is already adept at gathering this seemingly unimportant information, began her report. "Mother Terisiva next door got injured while…." Alexei just sat there and listened without interrupting her. And when she finished. Alexei stood up and uttered a "Thank you, I'm going." He was about to reach the door when Anna behind him said "Wait. I forgot one last piece of information." He gestured for her to continue "Someone is handing out pamphlets south of the slums a while ago. I tried to get one but they're already out by the time I was there."

He didn't say anything for a few seconds before telling her "Get one next time, and find out who they are without asking the obvious. I believe you're already good at this. You're doing great Anna" He patted her shoulders and walked out. Alexei didn't see the small smile radiating from the face of Anna.

While walking home, Alexei thought about what got into him when he took these four brats under him. It started 3 months ago when he decided to visit the city at night after reaching level 2 body cultivation. With a hood and mask on, he slips the guards and expertly maneuvered the walls of the palace. After that, he's out, walking towards the city center where people can be seen rushing to where they were going. He walked around the city center, noting some notable sites and streets. It took him a while to cover all the areas. When he checked it was still early, he decided to visit the slums. There, he found people toiling the night out for scraps. Whores calling for customers, children looking for pickpocket targets, gangs bullying someone and elderly lying beside the streets waiting to die. The sight didn't shock Alexei, he is used to this. In fact, the view is nothing like the savagery of the cultivation world.

When he moved from alleys to alleys, he arrived at the damp site. Children loitering around, looking for things that they could exchange for coins. They seemed careful enough not to intrude into each other's territory, but a large group of youngsters caught his eyes. Ganging up on four children. When the youngsters were done, they left. The four children helped each other stand up, noticeably brothers and sisters. They patted their clothes and checked each other's wounds and bruises. It seems they were used to it, but one of them is still crying from the beating. The girl, who appears to be the eldest of the group, hugged the boy who was crying. The other two, held up their tears. Alexei watched their interaction from afar as they eventually sat down and touched their stomachs. Obviously starving.

Fascinated by their vulnerability and weakness. Alexei was brought back when he was still innocent in the cultivation world. Due to his defenseless and powerless nature, was easily bullied and humiliated. Weakness has no place in that environment. That's why he easily held onto the man who helped him in his darkest moment. To the point of being used and betrayed by that man without a second thought.

Alexei chuckled ruefully to himself and decided it would be them. He had been thinking of finding his own subordinates outside of the palace, he just didn't expect to work on it so soon. He would've preferred grown men and literate, but they'll do. He just had to teach them letters and basic arithmetic. Their current situation made them easy to manipulate, especially for those who recognized the opportunity and were unburdened by conscience.

He was sure of one thing, though. He would not become the man, whom he hated the most.

Alexei snapped back to reality as he turned into a narrow alley, only to find a group of rough-looking figures loitering in the shadows, eyes sharp, posture tense, the kind that invited trouble without needing a reason. Fortunately, they didn't notice him. Without hesitation, he slipped away. He knew better than to test his luck. As capable as he was for his age, he was still just a child.

When he was out of the slums. He moved directly in the direction of the palace. "It's time to go home." He thought.

After arriving at his room, he cleaned himself thoroughly. While drying himself, Alexei looked at the bruises from the training. He didn't know what kind of disease had been plaguing his body but with just a light bump, bruises would appear on his skin. When he got injured and cut his fingers, two and a half years ago, blood would flow continuously even though he had already applied first aid. Thankfully, he was alone or the maids would freak out and report it to his parents. He didn't like being watched all the time because he needed to cultivate. It would hinder his progress.

He channeled his qi on the bruises, after a few minutes, they were gone. He thought about what would become of him if he can't cultivate in this world. This disease will be the death of him. And he might not reach old age, again. Fortunately, he was sure that by the time he was 10 years old. This disease will completely heal.

While he lay down in his bed. He muses about his circumstances. He was sure that this Alexei was the youngest of the children of the last emperor of Russia. He knew at least that much. But now he is the eldest. His sisters, born after him, still followed their original names from his first life. It brought him mixed feelings, he didn't know how to react to them, but he will still do as expected of him as an elder brother, protect them.

He remembered the way his mother looked at him with concern. She would always ask if he felt discomfort anywhere, as if she had a modern monitor that could alert her whenever his illness might act up. But he never let her find out the truth. He would never reveal his bruises and wounds. He had seen it happen to others, the way the sick were no longer treated as people but as fragile objects to be protected, monitored, and pitied. He couldn't stand it. To her, it would be love and care, but to him, it felt like a cage. He didn't blame her, though, she was his mother. Nonetheless, he wouldn't give her any reason to confine him. He loves his freedom so much that he won't let anyone take it from him, even his family. And what's worse, to have a tsarevich who is sickly spread throughout the empire, that would be a disaster.

His father, well, from what he observed, is a family oriented man. In terms of ruling though? Indecisive, passive and naive. What could he expect from a man who brought his empire down and had his own family killed? Nothing. Nevertheless, he is still his father. Judging him felt almost cruel. Maybe it was never truly his fault, but the consequences were real, he can see it from his nightly experience outside the palace. And now, here he was, trying to piece together how it all happened… and if all of this could ever be made right. He would not focus on saving the empire, though. If it could be saved, good. But if not, he would prioritize himself and his family first.

When he asked himself in the past if he had someone he cares about in this world. Apparently, he has now. The power of family bonds really runs deep whoever or wherever you are. He just hopes it won't ruin him. If he dies young as well in this new life. He would give himself an epithet, "The man age could never claim, but circumstances always could." If he ever lived again, that is.

He fell asleep then after.

—-

The next morning….
The maid moved with deliberate slowness through the silent halls of the palace, her footsteps muffled by thick carpets. Beside her, a small girl walked excitedly, clutching a small size stuffed toy to her chest, her gaze fixed on the door towards the end of the hallway.

At last, they reached their destination and came to a halt before a tall, ornate door. The maid raised a hand and knocked softly, her voice gentle but clear.

"Your Highness, I'm coming in."

She pushed the door open with practiced care, but before she could enter the room, the little girl suddenly bolted past her and slipped inside.

The maid let out a quiet sigh, the corners of her mouth twitching with resignation. Without a word, she followed the child into the room.

The little girl ran into the bed after she saw it, climbed, and then crawled towards the sleeping figure. She looked at the sleeping boy for a moment before lightly tapping the boy's cheek. ""Browther, wakey browther."

Meanwhile, the maid walked to the window and drew back the heavy curtains, allowing a soft glow to filter through the windows.

Alexei, who was pretending to sleep, had no choice but to open his eyes when the light reached his face. He looked at the girl who was about to give him a light slap, smiled and sat up. He reached out and ruffled the girl's hair who was giggling after she saw him woke up.

"What is Olga doing here, Anya?" He said to the maid who finished drawing all the curtains.

"She insisted on following me after she heard I'm going to wake you, Your Highness." Anya said and then added. "Her Imperial Majesty requests your presence at breakfast"

"Alright." With that said, he reached out to the toys displayed beside the bed and handed them to his sister "Play with these, Olga. I'm going to wash up first." He ruffled his sister's hair one last time before going to the wash room.

Minutes later, he came back refreshed, dressed in his most comfortable clothes, free of the elaborated styles and stiff fabrics that marked his station. The weight of formality doesn't appeal to him. As long as it's not a formal occasion, he would wear his comfortable clothes, ordered and requested from the royal seamstress.

"Come, Olga." He reached out his hand to his little sister, which she happily took. They left the room and made their way to the dining hall, followed by Anya.

Dining hall…
His mother narrowed her eyes the moment she saw what her son was wearing as he entered the hall. Alexei paid it no mind and greeted them with ease.

"Good morning, Father. Good morning, Mother."

He guided her sister, Olga to her seat, then walked over to his one-year-old sister, Tatiana, and gently pinched her cheek. She reached out her arms, clearly wanting to be carried, but he acted as if he didn't see it and continued on to his assigned seat, settling in quietly to wait for breakfast.

His father, seeing that everyone had arrived, said, "Let's pray." He led the prayer himself.

Alexei bowed his head as well, joining in silently. But to whom was he praying? He wasn't sure. Still, he offered a quiet prayer of gratitude, to whatever force is responsible for his repeated reincarnation.

After his father finished the prayer, they began to eat. Alexei took a small portion of everything on the table. He had a big appetite, but he never ate much in front of his family. Instead, he would usually slip into the kitchen after a formal breakfast or dinner to ask for another meal from the chef. By this point, the chef was already well acquainted with Alexei.

He was enjoying his breakfast when his father spoke.

"Last time, on your birthday, you asked to join the hunting retreat in the Bialowieza Forest this spring. Your mother agreed, but you won't be firing any guns. Is that acceptable to you?"

Alexei offered a rare smile and replied, "Yes, Father." Then he turned to his mother. "Thank you, Mother."

His mother, Alexandra, unaccustomed to seeing her son smile, felt a quiet joy rise within her. She silently praised herself for making such a wise decision. Smiling, she said, "As long as you're happy, my son. But you must listen to the people that we will assign to you during the hunt. And you" She looked pointedly at her husband "don't let yourself be swayed if Alexei tries to charm you into letting him fire a rifle. I know you, one pleading look from him and you'll give in."

His mother took a sip of her tea and continued, "Look at your son. You let him choose and request his own clothes from the royal seamstress, and now look what's happened, he hardly wears anything proper anymore. He's only five years old, and you're already spoiling him far too much."

Nicholas was momentarily speechless, quietly wondering how the conversation had shifted so quickly from their son to himself. Still, he smiled and replied, "Of course, a rifle is dangerous. I won't let him fire it, even if he cries."

Not that he would, Nicholas mused. His son hadn't cried since he was two.

"Good," his mother said, satisfied, and resumed eating.

After that brief exchange, they continued their meal in silence. Once they had finished, each quietly sipped their preferred refreshments, until his mother suddenly spoke again.

"Alexei, I'm hosting a party in the palace garden this afternoon, and you will be joining me. The other ladies will be bringing their children, and I expect you to play with them. Is that understood?"

She placed particular emphasis on the last part, clearly leaving no room for refusal.

It seemed his mother was preparing to introduce Alexei to the court, positioning him, perhaps, as part of her growing influence. He let out a quiet sigh, then replied, "Yes, Mother."

"Why are you sighing? You act far too much like an adult already, Alexei, and clearly, you are not," his mother chided. "You need to have friends. They'll be important to you in the future, especially if they are loyal."

Before he could respond with his agreement, she continued, "Oh, Your father and I found tutors and attendants for you. Since you love books so much, you might as well begin your lessons. As for your attendants, they'll accompany you on your daily activities and protection. I'll introduce you to them after the party this afternoon."

His mother simply wouldn't stop talking. But deep down, Alexei was secretly pleased. He was eager to start learning, and this would give him a reason to explain why he could eventually read so fluently. Until now, he had only been pretending to look at the pages of the book. As for his attendants. He just hopes they won't be so nosy in the future.

"Thank you mother." He replied.

His mother was about to speak again when a knock sounded at the door. Boris, his father's personal aide, entered.

"I apologize for interrupting your breakfast, Your Imperial Majesties," he said with a bow, then walked over to his father and whispered something in his ear.

When Boris finished, his father grew momentarily thoughtful, then rose from his seat.

"I'm sorry, my dear," he said, addressing his wife. "It seems I have to attend to some matters of the state."

He offered her an apologetic smile as he stood, then leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I'll see you this evening."

One by one, he kissed each of the children on the forehead, Alexei included, before making his way to the door and quietly leaving the room.

After his father was gone, his mother rose from her seat and turned to the maids. "We're finished here. Please take the children to the nursery. And Anya, make sure Alexei is properly prepared for the party this afternoon."

With that, she bent to kiss each of the children, lingering a bit longer with Tatiana, who was reaching up to be carried. She had no choice but to comfort the baby for a while before finally leaving the room to prepare for the party.

Alexei felt a quiet sense of relief once his parents had gone about their own affairs. He was never quite comfortable being the center of attention during conversation. He followed his sisters to the nursery and played with them for a while before turning to Anya.

"I'm tired. I want to sleep." He told her.

Anya gently guided him to his room. Once she was gone, he waited for a moment to be sure, then sat cross-legged in a lotus position and began to cultivate. He still had a few hours before lunch, and the afternoon party.

Alexei made his way toward the palace garden, wearing his semi formal attire for the occasion. Even in semi formal, his attire felt stiff and uncomfortable. He would've preferred his comfortable clothes if his mother would allow it. "No matter, as long as he can find an excuse to leave early, that would be great." He thought.
It did not take long for Alexei to arrive. Guided by Anya, he proceeded directly to his mother, who was surrounded by noble ladies engaged in light conversation and polite gossip.

"Good afternoon, Mother," He said, offering a respectful nod. After a brief pause, he turned to the assembled ladies and added. "Good afternoon, ladies."

After that, he looked at her mother again. Not bothering to respond to their smiles and polite return greetings.

She gave him a brief, scrutinizing look, eyes narrowing slightly as she checked for any imperfections in his attire. Once assured that everything was as it should be, she gave a subtle nod and began presenting him to the ladies gathered around her. Alexei quietly remembers every single one of them. Especially the Montenegrin princesses. They were quite popular in the court. He heard maids talking about them.

Following the introduction, Alexei was instructed by his mother to join the other children on the garden lawn. The lawn appeared to have been specially prepared for the occasion, with various entertainers and an assortment of toys scattered around for the children to enjoy.

He made his way to a quiet corner and observed the activities. Some children were playing Gorodki, while others were engaged in card games. The entertainers performed magic tricks to the delight of the crowd. A few children, too proud of their aristocratic background, chose instead to draw or write their letters.

Meanwhile, as Alexei stood watching the entertainers from a quiet corner of the garden, four children, Sergei, Elena, Marina, and Roman, huddled together behind a neatly trimmed hedge, whispering nervously.

Marina said anxiously. "We've been standing here for ages. Someone has to go first."

Sergei, the eldest among them, replied. "You do it, Marina. You're always talking."

Marina nearly shouted. "Not to a Tsarevich!"

Elena, after a moment of thought, suggested. "Maybe we should all go together?"

"Fine." Sergei said with a sigh. "We'll go together. I'll do the talking."

Roman, clearly too young to follow everything, simply listened quietly to his sister Marina and their cousins.

They all nodded in agreement, formed a shaky line, and slowly made their way toward Alexei.

Alexei had already noticed them from the corner of his eye but remained still, pretending to be focused on a juggler tossing wooden pins.

As the group approached, Sergei stepped forward and gave a slight bow.

"Hello, Your Highness." He said.

Alexei turned to look at them, his expression unreadable. He let the silence stretch, and the children shifted nervously under his gaze.

After a brief pause, Alexei finally replied. "Hi."

The awkward silence returned for a moment, until Elena stepped forward with a burst of courage.

"Would you like to play with us? We're about to start a game of Durak." She said brightly.

Alexei glanced across the lawn toward his mother, who was watching him intently. Beside her, the Montenegrin princesses smiled encouragingly.

"Ah." He thought. "These must be their children."

"All right." Alexei agreed. He might as well play with them than getting an earful from his mother later.

The children broke into relieved smiles, exchanging quick glances of triumph, proud to have completed their little diplomatic mission.

They made their way to another corner where the table and cards were already set up. After taking their seats, they began to introduce themselves to one another, including Alexei.

But there was only one problem.

"I don't know how to play." Alexei admitted to his newfound playmates. He had never played the game before, especially since this was his first time interacting with other children, aside from his sisters, of course.

"Don't worry, we'll teach you." Sergei said encouragingly.

Elena and Marina chimed in as well, assuring him that it was very easy.

Roman, meanwhile, remained quiet, seemingly shy.

This was the first time Alexei interacted with other noble children. In the past, he would simply sit quietly, absorbed in a book, ignoring everyone around him. Even on his birthdays, he would do the same. Now that he thought about it, isolating himself might have drawn even more attention. People at court might call him strange or use other unkind words to describe him. Gossip and whispers would inevitably follow.

But there was nothing he could do about it, that was simply the way he was. He couldn't force himself to do things he didn't want to do.

Nevertheless, it seemed he needed to do the things he disliked, just this once.

He looked at the children around him and thought, "They'll do." He might as well befriend them, at least on the surface. They would make a good cover. Besides, it seemed they were also being forced to befriend him. He might as well use that to his advantage. Who knows? Maybe they could actually become good friends.

With that decided, he began interacting with them more, asking questions about the game and about the other children present. They seemed to forget that they were there on a mission assigned by their parents and simply started playing, as children naturally do.

It didn't take long for them to get bored and decided to play another game. Alexei followed along, and when he admitted once again that he didn't know how to play, they began teaching him. Soon, they were all enjoying themselves, completely losing track of time.

Not Alexei, of course. While he did enjoy the game, he remained attentive to their surroundings.

He noticed that his mother looked pleased, frequently glancing in their direction. The Montenegrin princesses also seemed delighted that their children had befriended him, while the other noble ladies appeared to regret not instructing their own children to do the same.

"It looks like I made the right decision." He mused.

When he thought that he played enough with his new friends. He excused himself. Telling them that he needed to go back to his mother. They were reluctant to see him go at first. But eventually agreed.

He began walking back to his mother but was soon met by his sister, who came running to greet him, clearly delighted to see her favorite and only brother. He casually embraced her for a moment before gently leading her back to their mother.

"Mother, I'm hungry" He gently rubs his stomach to express his hunger.

"Oh my, come son, there is a lot of food in here." His mother led him to the table and asked Anya to attend to his son.

While he sat there waiting for the food delivered by Anya. Other noble ladies began talking to him but he just smiled and sometimes gave a silly laugh like other children.

It didn't take long for the food to arrive and he began eating. He eats while listening to their conversation, secretly of course.

After he finished eating, he waited for a moment before standing up and walking over to his mother. Leaning in close to her ear, he whispered quietly, "I've soiled myself, Mother."

His mother, startled at first, quickly recovered and called for Anya to take Alexei to his room and get him cleaned up.

And with that, he was finally free.

Once in the room, he insisted on cleaning up himself, much to Anya's amusement. Not that this was the first time. Still, she waited patiently outside the washroom for him to finish.

When he emerged, now dressed in more comfortable clothes, he said. "Anya, I'm tired. I don't want to go back."

"Your Highness, your mother will be angry if you don't return to the party." she replied, clearly worried. She didn't want to be scolded either, bringing Alexei back to the party was her responsibility.

"Tell Mother that I'm going to sleep for a while to rest. I'm sure it'll be fine." Alexei had no desire to return, there were just too many people.

"But, Your Highness, you just took a nap this morning." Anya protested. She just doesn't get it, does she? Alexei thought for a moment.

"Then tell Mother I might've eaten something bad. Say my stomach is acting up again, and I don't want to risk embarrassing myself in front of everyone. She'll understand."

Anya hesitated but eventually nodded. "All right. But you must stay in your room until I return."

"Don't worry, Anya. I'm just going to take another nap." Alexei assured her.

She looked at him for a moment, then sighed and quietly left the room.

Finally, he had a moment to himself. Oh, right... I still have to meet with my tutors and attendants after the party, he thought with a sigh, then laid down to rest.

—----

It didn't take long before the time came to meet his new tutors and attendants. He made his way to where they were gathered and found his mother there, clearly displeased that he hadn't returned to the party, but she kept her frustration to herself.

He glanced around the room at the assembled group. He didn't recognize all of them, so he waited patiently for his mother to make the introductions.

After taking a moment to compose herself, his mother stood up and began.

"Alexei, these are the gentlemen who will be part of your attendants from this day forward. They are here to guide you, serve you, and ensure your well-being."

She gestured to the tall, broad-shouldered man in naval uniform, his bearing still that of a disciplined sailor. "This is Klimenty Grigorievich Nagorny. He will be your personal guard. He will accompany you wherever necessary."

Nagorny bowed respectfully, his expression solemn. Alexei just nodded.

Next, she motioned to a middle aged man with sharp features and observant eyes.
"This is Ivan Dmitrievich Sednev. He will serve as your personal attendant, alongside Anya.

Sednev offered a polite smile and a short bow. Alexei just nodded again.

"Now, to your tutors."

Her mother gestured to a serious-looking man in spectacles, his suit crisp and his hands clasped behind his back. "This is Mr. Breshko-Breshkovsky. He will be your mathematics tutor. I trust you'll give him your full attention."

Mr. Breshko-Breshkovsky gave a curt nod. "I look forward to working with you, Your Highness."

"And this," she continued, motioning to a slightly older gentleman with thoughtful eyes and a scholarly air, "is Pyotr Vasilievich Petrov, who will be teaching you Russian language and literature."

Petrov smiled gently. "It will be a privilege to teach you, Your Imperial Highness."

Alexei gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, keeping his posture composed. Despite the stiff introductions, he studied each man carefully, already considering how best to deal with them, work with them, or avoid them if needed. One thing was certain, life would no longer be as quiet as it had been.

"Thank you, Mother," Alexei said softly.

"Now go on. I still have matters to attend to. Your lessons will begin tomorrow," she replied, already making her way toward the door. She had likely given them their instructions beforehand.

Once she was out of sight, Alexei turned to face his new companions and gave a polite nod.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Alexei. Please take care of me."

They smiled at that. Thankful to have a polite Tsarevich to attend to.

—--

Days passed, and winter arrived. Life had become slow and monotonous. He spent his mornings and afternoons with his tutors, following a rigid routine. Wherever he went, he was always accompanied by Nagorny and Sednev. Thankfully, they don't keep watch over him while he sleeps. As it will hinder his nightly escapades into the city.

Alexei only went out once a week now, due to the winter. During those trips, he would check on their progress and bring food. He was quite worried that their small hut might be ransacked, especially with people in the slums seeking shelter to survive the cold.

That's why, during his last visit, he had instructed them to run and hide if anything happened, and to wait for his return to deal with any intruders.

He didn't mind getting rid of a few pests, if it came to that.

It felt like a lifetime ago since he last killed someone. Back then, taking a life had become second nature, an instinct honed not out of cruelty, but survival. He had lived in a world where hesitation meant death, where trust was a luxury he couldn't afford, and mercy was often a fatal mistake. Each kill had carved something out of him, piece by piece, until there was little left but purpose and caution. Now, in the stillness of palace life, those memories felt like distant echoes, unreal and weightless. Yet the instinct remained. He didn't regret what he'd done. Regret was a privilege for men who hadn't been forced to fight for every breath.

—----

February 1901

Anna was currently cleaning their hut. She knew that their benefactor, or whoever he truly was, could arrive at any moment to check on their progress once more. She wanted to at least present their modest hut as clean and orderly, no matter how weathered or worn it looked.

These past few months still felt like a dream. Just having food to eat each day was something she never thought she'd experience again. The gnawing hunger that used to haunt her and her siblings had been replaced by warm meals and the comfort of knowing they were safe, if only for now.

She didn't know why he helped them. She thought about the time when they met. They didn't know what to do back then. Their parents had just died, and they had no aunts or uncles to turn to for help. It felt as if her life had ended right there. She had three younger siblings to feed, and after their parents passed, they had only managed to gather enough food to last about fifteen days. It didn't take long for that to run out.

She led her siblings to the waste dump, where they scavenged for anything that could be traded for a few coins, rags, bones, glass and bits of metals. They managed to survive for a month by selling scraps. For a brief moment, they thought they could keep going like that, that maybe things were getting better.

But trouble came quickly. A group of older boys warned them to stop scavenging in the area, claiming it as their territory. She refused. She knew how important that work was for her siblings' survival. So they returned anyway. That's when they were spotted, and that was the first time they were beaten.

Still, they endured. They tried other ways to earn money for food, but no one would hire them. They begged on the streets, but no one gave them anything. They were starving. She didn't know what else to do.

Desperate, they went back to the dump site once more, hoping to find enough scraps to get through another day. But this time, they were caught again, and the beating was worse.

At that moment, she thought it might be better to just die.

And then, he appeared.

He walked towards them.

He asked them if they wanted food just after they were beaten. He stood in front of them as if he weren't a child just like them. She knows at least that much judging by his height. He looked at least 8 years old. But he gave something like a towering figure as if they were safe if they clung into him.

She hesitated at first. But her siblings said yes right away, as if it wasn't strange for someone to offer help without asking for anything in return. What made it even more unsettling was that he wore a mask that completely hid his face.

But hunger won out. So they accepted.

She asked him what he wanted in return, but he simply said he needed people, and that they would be it.

She remained cautious at first, keeping her siblings at a distance from him. Only she interacted with him directly. If he turned out to be dangerous, she was prepared to sacrifice herself to protect them.

But the food kept coming. Day after day, more than they had ever dared to hope for. And slowly, her suspicion gave way to gratitude.

Then, he began teaching them letters and numbers, something they had never even dreamed of learning. When she asked why he was teaching them, he answered bluntly: "You'd be useless if you don't know how to read and write."

She wanted to get angry. The word useless stung. But the life he had given them weighed more heavily than the insult. So she said nothing.

He didn't stop at just teaching them letters and numbers. He also taught them how to defend themselves. But he always emphasized one thing, If you can run, then run.

She didn't understand why he was teaching them that, but she figured that having more skills was better than none.

What puzzled her most was how someone who looked like a child could know so much. She wanted to ask, but ultimately decided against it. They were already receiving so much from him, and prying into his secrets might only anger their strange benefactor.

It didn't take long before he asked something of them. He wanted them to listen to the gossip and news circulating around the slums, which wasn't much, but it was something. They can finally do something for him. So she and her siblings began paying attention to every bit of chatter, whether small or significant, and reported everything to their benefactor whenever he visited.

He also taught them how to listen carefully and how to ask questions that didn't sound intrusive, but, if answered, could get them closer to the information they needed.

Yet again, another skill their benefactor possessed. She couldn't help but wonder how he knew so much. Maybe he's a witch, she thought, but quickly dismissed the idea.She believed he was a good person, judging by how much he had helped them.

She was pulled from her thoughts by a sudden knock on the door.

"I'll take it." Petrov, her younger brother, called out excitedly as he rushed toward the door before she could even respond. Her brother didn't even check who it was through the peephole and directly unlocked the door.

"Petrov, wait!" She started, her voice sharp with alarm, but it was already too late.

The door burst open with a loud crash. A heavy boot kicked it wide, sending the boy flying backward with a sickening thud. He slammed into the floor and let out a pained cry, clutching his side.

"Petrov!" She screamed. Her heart slammed in her chest as two unfamiliar men stepped over the threshold.

They were both middle-aged and scruffy, reeking of alcohol and smoke. The one in front had a crooked nose and sunken cheeks, while the other, broader man carried a rusted bat slung over his shoulder. Their eyes scanned the small room like predators sizing up helpless prey.

"Oh, only kids? We're lucky." The man in front sneered, smirking. "This'll be easy."

"Hey, brats." The one with the bat barked, waving the weapon in a wide arc. "This place belongs to us now. Get out, or we'll throw you out."

She barely heard him. All she could see was Petrov curled on the floor, crying softly, one arm trembling as he tried to push himself up.

Without thinking, she darted past the intruders and knelt beside her brother. "It's okay. I'm here." She whispered, inspecting him quickly for injuries. Relief mixed with panic. He was hurt, but not badly.

But her defiance had caught the attention of the man with the bat.

"Oh, so you're not scared?" He jeered. "Looks like I'll have to make an example out of you."

He raised the bat, his eyes flashing with cruel delight.

"Leave her alone!" Came a cry, and in a blur, her twin brothers hurled themselves at the attacker. They grabbed at the bat, trying to wrench it from his grip.

But they were no match for a grown man. With one powerful motion, he yanked the bat free and drove his fist into the stomach of one twin, then the face of the other. The boys crumpled to the floor, gasping and dazed.

"Haha! What courageous little rats." The man laughed. "Let's have some fun with them, Orlov."

The other man, Orlov, grinned and kicked one of the boys in the ribs. "Haven't had a good beating in days. This'll be fun."

"No, stop! Please!" She shouted, standing protectively in front of her brothers. Her voice cracked with desperation, tears brimming in her eyes.

But they didn't care. The man with the bat raised it again, this time aiming for her. She braced herself, expecting the blow, her mind racing with a single thought. "This is it. We're going to die here."

They had no way out. The only door was blocked, and the windows were too small to escape through. She had no weapons, no strength to fight back. All she could do was shield her siblings with her body and hope the pain wouldn't last long. Then everything changed. There was a shadow at the doorway.

The first man, the one who had threatened them, suddenly stiffened. His mouth fell open, eyes wide with confusion as he reached behind his neck. A knife protruded from the base of his skull.

Before he could even fall, Orlov turned in shock, but another knife embedded itself cleanly into his neck. He stumbled forward, collapsed onto the floor beside his friend, and didn't move again. Blood pooled beneath their bodies, spreading across the old wooden floor.

She gasped, frozen in place. Her eyes darted to the doorway. There he was. Alexei.

He stood there, calm and composed, as if the violence he had just committed were nothing more than a routine. The fading light from outside glinted off the edge of his throwing knives as he stepped forward. His expression was hidden behind the mask, but the fury in his eyes was unmistakable.

No words were spoken.

She stared at him, overwhelmed, by shock, by relief, by the horror of what had just happened. Her siblings whimpered behind her, and she could hear Petrov trying to sit up, crying softly.

Alexei approached, retrieving the knives from the intruders and wiping the blood from the blades with a piece of cloth. Once cleaned, he slipped them back into his coat. Then he knelt beside the injured twins and Petrov. He didn't speak, just checked their pulses with quick, methodical movements. His hands were precise, practiced and surprisingly gentle.

"You're brothers are okay." He said at last, voice low and even.

She blinked rapidly, the tears finally spilling down her cheeks. She didn't know what to say. She couldn't move.

He looked at her then, eyes steady. "I told you to keep the door locked."

"I…. I'm sorry." She whispered, her voice barely audible.

He didn't scold her. He stood and glanced at the bodies, then turned toward the door. "I'll take care of this. Stay inside and watch over them."

She didn't say anything. She simply watched as he dragged one of the bodies out of the house, then returned a few minutes later to remove the other.

In her daze, she had forgotten that her brothers were still injured. A soft whimper behind her snapped her back to reality. When she turned and saw her brothers crying from the pain, guilt washed over her. How could she have forgotten? She silently scolded herself, then quickly rushed to tend to them.

Alexei returned after an hour. She didn't say anything and simply continued cleaning the house. There was still blood on the floor, and she needed to scrub it quickly before it stained the wood.

"I dumped them in an abandoned warehouse not far from here." He said as he took a seat on one of the stools. "We're lucky, your neighbors either didn't hear anything or just didn't care. Doesn't matter. You're all safe for now. But make sure you clean the blood on the floor thoroughly, just in case someone comes to check. No one will suspect you then."

He paused, then scanned the room again.

"So, how are your brothers?" He asked.

"They're okay now. They fell asleep right after I cleaned their wounds." She replied, grabbing a scrub brush and kneeling to continue cleaning the blood from the floor.

"Why didn't you run?" He asked, clearly wanting a clearer picture of what had happened.

"We couldn't. They were blocking the door, and everything happened too fast. I couldn't stop Petrov from opening it." She said while scrubbing, then added softly. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." He said after a moment. She couldn't tell if he meant it or was simply trying to ease her guilt. Then he continued, his tone more decisive.

"You and your brothers need to move to a new house this spring. Don't worry about the money, I'll handle it. In the meantime, find a place here in the slum that's bigger than this and can be secured tightly from the inside. That's the minimum requirement."

Anna opened her mouth to protest, to tell him he didn't need to go this far, but nothing came out. The words died in her throat. Deep down, she knew the truth, they had no choice but to rely on him now. The guilt weighed heavy on her chest, and after everything she had witnessed tonight, she felt too numb to push back. All she could do was follow his lead.

She glanced at her brothers, still asleep. Please, she thought, let them be okay after seeing those dead bodies.

"…Okay." She murmured, eyes lowered.

He gave a small nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, though it remained hidden behind his mask.

"You adapted quickly, Anna," He said, watching her closely. "You didn't even panic, didn't throw up when you saw the dead bodies."

She lifted her gaze and managed a tired smile, too drained to tell whether it was meant as praise or something else. Either way, she appreciated the acknowledgement more than she expected.

Turning away, he stepped toward the door, scanning the broken frame. "Once you finish cleaning, get some rest. I'll fix this."

She looked at the blood-stained floor, then back at him. "Mmm." She replied quietly, genuinely grateful he was staying a little longer to help.

It didn't take long for them to finish. While she scrubbed away the last of the blood, he worked silently on the door and locks. His movements were efficient, almost like it was second nature.

Once he was done, he straightened and brushed the dust from his sleeves. "This spring, I'll be gone for over a month, maybe more. When I return, we'll buy the house, if you've found one that meets the requirements."

Anna nodded, barely holding back a yawn. "I'll look around."

He studied her for a moment, maybe reading the exhaustion in her face, then stepped back toward the door.

"Looks like there won't be any lessons tonight. Goodbye, then.

He closed the door. With that, he disappeared into the quiet night.

Anna stared at the closed door for a moment, then she turned away and moved slowly through the dim room, careful not to wake her brothers. Every muscle in her body ached, not just from the scrubbing or the tension, but from the weight of everything that happened that night.

By the time she lay down on her thin mattress, the room had gone still again. She pulled the blanket over herself, listening to the soft, steady breathing of her siblings.

Her eyes drifted to the ceiling.

"Please" she prayed silently. "Just let everything be better tomorrow."

And with that final thought, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.