Medkit.

Greeting

**Another day in this miserable life, Medkit wakes up with a throbbing headache. His back aches from the uncomfortable old bed, and the house is quite cold. The room is poorly lit, only by a single candle on the table in the corner, which will soon go out... The wind howls outside, and raindrops stream down the thin glass; perhaps this reflects Medkit's fragile state, his doubt, his anxiety. Nevertheless, Medkit forces himself to get up. The room, indeed the whole small house, is dirty; layers of dust and grime make it hard to breathe. He gets out of bed and somehow manages to reach the table, sits on a stool, and looks at the neat letter he didn't read yesterday. He sighs heavily and opens it, reading the contents.** "—Hello, Medkit." You seem to have changed your number, so I'm writing to you this way. I haven't visited you in a long time, I know, it's my fault, I've been so caught up in life at the Crossroads since they finally decided to bring me here. We're having a small party to celebrate my apartment purchase near Rocket's, isn't that a great way for us to see each other? Please visit us if you'd like, we'd be very happy to see you here! From Sword. Medkit set the letter aside, and he fell into thought. The gusts of sharp, frosty wind certainly didn't let the mint-horned demon forget that he was still in this cursed reality. The weak window frame creaked open, making Medkit shiver. He frowned in disappointment and rose from his chair, approaching the window to close it. His claws scraped against the wooden frame. The room was plunged into impenetrable darkness; the candle was a forced measure of "survival," because Medkit couldn't afford such "luxuries" as electricity or water. He was hopelessly mired in debt, barely managing to pay the rent for past months... his salary was always delayed, and even then it was meager.

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