"These plates are extremely hot. We have three more to bring out; would you like them all at once?"
"Let’s split them in half, please."
"Excellent choice. The top portion is sirloin, and the bottom is tenderloin. I’ll portion them out for you."

The sound of sizzling butter and meat filled the air, the aroma wafting through and stimulating the senses as thick cuts of steak were plated. Each cut was drizzled with a spoonful of butter and oil, ready to be enjoyed. As Eugene and his companions savored the first bites, the tender texture and rich flavors enveloped them.

"Did they say this was dry-aged?"
"Don’t ask us. We’re not exactly experts—just soldiers used to MREs in the field."
"Hah, sounds like meals weren’t so great over at Fort Bragg. Coastal bases sure don’t have that problem."
"They serve decent meals, sure. But who has time to eat them, huh?"

Special forces conversations were often peppered with complaints and jokes—grim humor that was characteristic of the life they led. Despite the casual banter, the steak was a treat: tender, savory, with a hint of cheese flavor, served in portions that totaled 3.2 kilograms. Even though the T-bone’s weight included the bone, there was plenty of meat to go around.

"If anyone leaves a bite, I’ll send the bill to your accounts," the Senior Officer warned.
"Have you ever seen me leave food behind?"
"You’re really digging in, huh? Looks like we’ll need that third and fourth plate soon."

Lorentina called over the server for the next servings, eyeing the juicy steaks with mild disappointment.

"I’d have preferred it even bloodier," she muttered.
"Should’ve ordered one rare," someone replied.
"I got caught up and just went with medium rare for all of them."

As she took a bite, Lorentina’s sharp teeth gleamed—human-like but sharper, more shark-like. Her preference for bloody meat made sense, given her shark-like traits. Unlike her, Eugene was closer to Logan in his transformation, with slightly elongated canine teeth, another distinct marker of the EM mutation.

After downing a piece of steak, Lorentina took a sip of wine and pulled the soundproofing curtain around their booth. "I hate to spoil the surprise, Eugene, but you’re likely to meet Henry soon."

"Henry? The president?"
"Not yet, but with his approval ratings, it’s just a matter of time before he’s in the White House. He asked for a dinner meeting."

"Just me?"
"Unfortunately, no. You’ll be there with us."

It seemed the meeting was a done deal, and Eugene suspected the entire group would be involved. Lorentina handed him a shopping bag, which contained clothing that had been sent over for the occasion.

"What’s with the handbag? I’d rather have a tactical backpack."
"They said it’s for the 'fashion.'”
"Fashion? Really?"

Despite their laughter, it was clear they all found it amusing that they, of all people, were being roped into fashion-related affairs. The Senior Officer spoke up, grinning.

"They both got offers to be accessory models a few months back. Care to guess what they asked first?"

"What did they ask?" Eugene replied, curious.
"They didn’t ask about necklaces or earrings. They wanted to know if it was a dot sight or a suppressor."

Lorentina and Logan, flustered, tried to defend themselves as the Senior Officer chuckled, and Eugene couldn’t help but laugh. After all, they were still in the business of guns and gear.

"So, when’s this dinner with the presidential candidate?"
"Tomorrow at 7:30 PM. At Per Se. It’s Michelin three-star and just a short walk from your hotel."
"Columbus Circle... That’s where the Osprey went down once, wasn’t it?"
"You’ve got a strangely detailed memory for that."

The meal continued, and they reminisced about the past with a touch of solemnity. Lorentina pulled back the curtain, and Eugene saw thick snowflakes swirling outside. The heavy snow was beautiful, but for Eugene, it was also a reminder of silent battles, of a colder, more treacherous New York that no longer existed.

"The approval ratings?" Eugene asked.
"Still leading. After expressing interest in VR events, public opinion seems positive. And his support from defense industry-heavy states has also risen slightly since the last debate."

With new geopolitical complexities, it was a time of unpredictable challenges. Yet for Eugene, who had witnessed the transformation of major powers, it felt like all they had to do was avoid self-destruction.

"Prepare for unexpected outcomes," Eugene muttered.
"Sorry, sir? Did you say something?"
"Just talking to myself."

In the stillness, Eugene reflected on the coming winter—a season that once brought despair, now tempered by the warmth of camaraderie and resilience. Tomorrow’s meeting would be just another chapter in a city that held many memories, but this time, he would face it differently, with lessons learned from both past and present.

The rest of the day passed in quiet reflection, and as he closed his eyes, he knew that tomorrow would bring more than just a meeting; it would bring a chance to make peace with old ghosts.