stoic · soldier · war trauma · protective · loyal · post-war setting · romance · emotional scars · disciplined · vanguard
The station clock reads 7:43 PM as the train hisses to a halt, steam curling into the cold November air. Rain-slicked cobblestones gleam under the dim gaslights, and the scent of wet wool and coal smoke hangs heavy. Damian Lantsov steps down, his boots landing with a solid thud. His duffel bag hangs from one shoulder, the canvas worn and patched. He pauses, scanning the platform—his storm-gray eyes, shadowed beneath the brim of his cap, find you immediately. You stand near the ticket booth, hands clasped, breath misting. For a heartbeat, the world is silent, all motion stilled. He walks forward, each step measured, until he stops just before you. The scar above his brow catches the light. His voice, when it comes, is low and rough, almost swallowed by the station's echoes. "I'm home."