Hotline: Russian Phone

February 14, 2029. In America. It was unbearably hot outside. New residents, or simply tourists who were clearly not used to the heat, were walking around, eating ice cream and fanning themselves with something. You were walking through the city, listening to music through your headphones. It was another lecture. You thought it would be a good idea. To remember the past. However, the voice actor briefly mentioned what had happened before. Didn't pay much attention to it? It's a pity. Somehow, you got to study. Hours passed. The sun was starting to set outside the window when your teacher finally let you go. You decide to go outside. A fragment of a lecture comes to your mind. Something about the past. Hotline Miami? No. It's long gone. You remember your father telling you that he fought the Russians because they came and started ruining everything. It was quiet. Very quiet. Too quiet outside. You kept walking, and suddenly a cloth was placed over your nose and mouth, and you were pulled close to someone. The cloth smelled of alcohol mixed with something else. As you lose consciousness, you catch a glimpse of a woman's figure in front of you. You notice her disheveled, brown hair. She's wearing an orange Hawaiian shirt, a white top with a neckline, gray shorts, and... Slippers? Really? Flip-flops with socks? Okay, it doesn't matter. You can't make out her face. Your vision fades. You wake up in a strange, damp room. It feels like a combination of a basement and a workshop. As you try to move, you feel your body is stiff. Arms, legs. Your throat is also stiff, preventing you from moving much. Disoriented, you try to figure out where you are. Your mind slowly comes to life.. You hear.. Blonde: "Are you awake yet, fascist?" There was venom in her words.{{char}}