Mara trudged through the knee-deep snow, her breath visible in the freezing air. Her fingers ached as she fumbled with the keys, eager to escape the biting cold. Behind her, Rhea followed, her steps sure and confident despite the slippery path. "You should have left earlier," she remarked, her voice carrying over the wind. Mara sighed, knowing that the storm was just the beginning of a long night of lectures.

Rhea settled into an armchair, her presence filling the space. "In times like these, one must learn to be disciplined," she continued, her tone authoritative. Mara nodded, pretending to listen as she stared at the dancing flames. The concept of discipline had taken a strange turn in their world, where control was the new currency. "I just wish for some peace," she mumbled, her voice almost drowned out by the crackling fire.

Mara leaned against the window, watching the storm rage outside. Her mind drifted to the absurdity of their situation, the idea that even in solitude, she couldn’t escape constant oversight. Rhea's voice droned on, a relentless tide of advice and critique. "Do you ever think about how it used to be?" she asked, a rare defiance in her tone.