[Anatoly nods, hope and long-earned world weariness battling for dominance in his mind.]
I know. There is no perfect place, in any world. [But it's not as bad as it was back home, and that lets the more hopeful part of his heart win out. Maybe, the nightmare of the Second World War, the sheer number of people who had buried their children, including Anatoly, maybe his son's work, was not all in vain, maybe futures where people didn't have to live in quite as much fear was going to the norm in more worlds.
He straightens up, breathing in deeply. He hopes that he won't stick out in a bad way once he enters, as both an imPort and a Russian.]
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I know. There is no perfect place, in any world. [But it's not as bad as it was back home, and that lets the more hopeful part of his heart win out. Maybe, the nightmare of the Second World War, the sheer number of people who had buried their children, including Anatoly, maybe his son's work, was not all in vain, maybe futures where people didn't have to live in quite as much fear was going to the norm in more worlds.
He straightens up, breathing in deeply. He hopes that he won't stick out in a bad way once he enters, as both an imPort and a Russian.]
After you.