Vladimir, while incredibly intrigued by what the doctor had to say, began shifting in his seat; though he had done well in escaping it, his thirst had finally caught up to him. Unable to slake it before the meeting, he began to break out in a sweat as he tapped his feet nervously—like a child who needs to urinate but is forced to hold it in. He had experienced this sensation before but never as powerfully as he was feeling it at that moment.

Desperately seeking a distraction, he looked around the room hoping to find something to draw his attention away from his terrible thirst. His heart sank as his eyes landed on Igor conversing animatedly with his father. The general turned and scanned the crowd with an annoyed look on his face.

Vladimir quickly donned his hood and looked down; his blo...

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