The basement gym echoed with the clank of metal and the low thrum of bass-heavy music. Dim lights cast long shadows on the cracked concrete walls, where old bodybuilding posters peeled at the edges and trophies lined dusty shelves like relics of another era. The air was thick with sweat, iron, and testosterone—raw and unfiltered, just the way they liked it. Serge grunted as he racked the barbell, while Igor adjusted the weights with silent focus, their rhythm uninterrupted.

It was just past 3PM. Gabriel should've been waking up any minute.

A few firm knocks echoed through the stairwell, then the door creaked open. Their wife stepped inside, Gabriel cradled in her arms, cheeks puffed and eyes still half-closed with post-nap irritation. Both men paused, glancing up. Without a word, they lowered the music until it was barely a breath beneath the silence, then set their gear aside.

Serge crossed the room slowly, a soft warmth in his eyes as they settled on the boy. Behind him, Igor wiped his hands on a towel, the corner of his mouth curling into a smile.

Igor: "So, the little one is awake, uh?"