Breaking News. Yesterday, President Rannii was assassinated. He was shot in front of the Government House. Doctors at the Central Clinic were unable to save him. He died at the age of 39.

— Did you hear? Our president was killed, — a petite girl with black hair and emerald streaks at the ends sat in a chair in front of the television.

— Yes, yes, serves him right, — an elderly man grumbled, puffing on his pipe, lying on the sofa next to the girl, — if he hadn't been walking so late at night, he wouldn't have been shot.

— Grandpa! — the girl turned and smiled.

— What is it, my dear? — shaking his head, the elderly man rose from the sofa.

— What are we going to eat?

— My dear, I don't mind, as long as you eat something yourself, — he replied in a slightly hoarse voice.

— Okay, Grandpa, I'll make something.

The girl got up from the chair and left the room. The elderly man's words followed her:

— Gerda, don't put too much sugar in!

— Okay!

This girl's name was Gerda. She had been small and fragile since childhood, always helping her grandfather around the house. Her parents had disappeared without a trace, leaving her with her grandfather. Her grandfather was a military man, but he doted on his granddaughter. Now, in his declining years, he increasingly recalled his service. They lived in a modest two-room apartment, devoid of any technological innovations except for a new-fangled radio receiver capable of picking up numerous channels. This receiver had been given to her grandfather to commemorate the end of his service in Military Radio Communications.

Gerda was almost sixteen, but her height was only 147 centimeters.

Leaving the room, Gerda headed to the kitchen. Perfect order reigned there. The evening light of the setting sun fell directly through the window. Gerda took a carton of eggs and took out two. She took a frying pan from the top shelf and placed it on the gas stove. A gas cylinder stood next to the stove. Gerda reached for the cylinder valve and turned it slightly. Gas slowly flowed through the pipes to the stove. Taking matches from the bottom drawer, she struck one and lit the burner. The flame was moderate, neither too strong nor too weak. Cracking the eggs over the frying pan, Gerda watched as the yolk and white spread and began to fry. A bag of bread hung on a nail on the wall. Taking it down, she began to slice the bread. First, she cut a thin slice, then a thick one, much larger than the first. She ate the small piece immediately, unhurriedly. Taking a plate from the top shelf, she put the second piece on it. She spread it with honey and butter. The crackling of butter in the frying pan could be heard. Wrapping her hand in a towel, Gerda carefully opened the lid and removed the already fried eggs with a spatula. She placed them on the plate next to the bread.

— Grandpa, it's ready! — she shouted.

Heavy footsteps slowly approached. Grandfather came out of the room and headed for the kitchen. The sunset was so delightful that it replaced electric light. Gerda was happy in these moments.

Grandfather entered the kitchen and was just about to sit down next to his granddaughter when a bright flash in the window blinded him.

The bright flash was replaced by a dazzling glow that slowly faded until a sphere appeared in the sky. It was red, as if fiery. A dome and thick smoke formed around it. The dome quickly began to expand, and a shock wave followed.

Blinded by the bright light, Grandfather squeezed his eyes shut. Gerda, who was looking at him, saw only the fireball, missing the initial flash.

— My dear, you forgot the tea! — Grandfather grumbled.

— Oh, sorry, it'll be ready in a moment.

Gerda took mugs from the shelf and poured tea. Putting three spoons of sugar in her grandfather's cup, she pushed it towards him.

Grandfather slowly sat down on the chair next to Gerda and began to drink his tea. Hot, sweet tea was his favorite drink. He reached for the bread with butter and honey when suddenly a tremor ran across the table. Grandfather didn't react and didn't want to alarm his granddaughter. Taking the bread, he began to eat, washing it down with tea.

Having eaten the bread and drunk his tea, Grandfather pushed his mug away from him. He sat motionless, as if lost in thought about something important. He was thinking about what had happened, about what would happen next, how to protect his granddaughter, how to defend her. Complete silence reigned for a minute, and then Grandfather slowly and with difficulty said: «It's time.»

These were his last words.

After that, the windowpanes cracked. Grandfather grabbed Gerda's hand and pulled her sharply towards him. He hugged her tightly, turned his back to the window, and crouched down. The glass exploded from the shock wave, and shards flew at Grandfather. Gerda's face was turned forward, and she did not see the last moments of his life.

Explosion. Gerda closed her eyes. She didn't see what was happening, but she heard the crackling and rumbling. Broken glass rained down from the window.

The city's buildings began to collapse like a house of cards, one after another. Gerda and her grandfather's house also began to crumble. Gerda fell on her side in her grandfather's embrace, buried under the debris.

She lay in her grandfather's warm embrace. His blood had not yet cooled, warming her. After a couple of minutes, the temperature of the ground began to rise. There was no intense heat under the rubble of the house, but the warmth was very noticeable. Gerda snuggled closer to her grandfather.

Pitch darkness surrounded her. The debris insulated the sound well, but the rumble and gusts of wind were still audible. Gerda fell asleep in her grandfather's arms.