Waking up is always a mixture of pleasure and pain.

            “Matias,” a familiar voice spoke up from the bedroom door, “I have breakfast ready for us downstairs. Better come down before the grandkids eat all the fruit.”

            My throat cleared, “Sure thing, dear…”

            Once I found the will to get out of bed, my old bones and greying fur not looking any younger, I waddled over to the nearby window of our bedroom. Beams of crystalline sunlight were already leaking through the clouds to shine on nearby buildings. To the left side of the window, I could spot people strolling through the supermarket, while the right side held a magnificent view of the south Atlantic Ocean. To this day, I didn’t know why Adaline was against the idea of retiring in the Falkland Peninsula.

            Sitting at the large table downstairs, my entire family found itself trapped in an anarchy of conversation. Adaline and our daughter-in-law Josephina were discussing her eldest daughter being accepted for an apprenticeship position at Daybreak Industries in Rio de Janeiro. Little Kenda and Paulina were blowing bubbles from their glasses of milk. Their older brother Fernando was attempting to watch a newsvid with his father, my eldest son, discussing the possibility of reopening public space travel by rebuilding the lunar colony. Sitting down beside them, I decided to focus instead of the nice bowl of cereal bran in front of my hungry muzzle.

            “Ow! Easy there, sonny.”

            “George, stop playing with Grandpapa’s tail,” Josephina scolded him, causing the eight-year-old boy to timidly return to eating his food. “Sorry about that, Matias.”

            A friendly smile formed across my muzzle. “Heh, it’s fine…”

            My tail occasionally flicked at George’s side, who then started to pet the graying fur, this time more gently.

            “He’s just curious that’s all.” Smirking, I turned to my son, “Besides, Adaline, did you ever tell her how Desmond treated my tail when he was a toddler?”

            “Ugh, I told you I was sorry, okay Dad?” he told me. “I thought you were a toy bear or something.”

            My younger years as a Timber Wolf Class anthroid—one of the very first after Lucas Mendoza—have long since passed. Spelunking in the frozen tundra of the North tended to take a toll on one’s physical form, even with biomechanical enhancement. I spent almost two decades exploring and mapping out the geography of three continents in the Northern Hemisphere, as well as joining on expeditions to these regions. I’d been alongside Lucas as we set up the first Project Atlantis basecamp in Old Chicago, Old New York, Old Tokyo, Old everywhere basically. Nowadays, the only work I did was lounge/houseclean while my Adaline worked full-time as a primary school teacher. Now, today we were celebrating the start of summer by having a family get-together.

            “How else are the kids, J?” Adaline asked. “From what I’ve seen on your feed, Fernando has one more school term before graduating?”

            “He is!” Josephina beamed proudly. “Isn’t that exciting, Fern? One more term!”

            “Yeah…” he mumbled, eyes still on the TV screen.

            “What do you hope to become afterward, Fernando?” Adaline pressed further. “Do you…have any jobs you’re interested in?”

            Either he didn’t hear, or my grandson got the same addiction to newsvids like his father.

            “Fernando,” his mother spoke up, “it’s extremely rude to ignore a question from your grandmother. Desmond, sweetie, please turn that thing off.”

            “But it’s the morning news, hun…” he tried to argue, only for her to retaliate with that trademark frown. The same one she always used to get him to do something. “Ugh, alright, alright…” Picking up the remote, Desmond was about to switch it off when a familiar face, or rather a familiar muzzle, flashed onscreen.

            “Wait, keep it on, Des!” I told him abruptly. “Keep it on…”

            “What is it, sweetie?” Adaline asked, only to follow her eyes with mine.

            Onscreen, a series of clips displayed ancient photographs of a city, as well as various Northern cities, now encased in glaciers and ancient snow. Between these clips, a reporter started describing a new development regarding Project Atlantis.

            “…officials have announced an expedition intended to establish a new research outpost in what used to be the ancient Canadian city of Toronto. Attempts to further explore beyond the Great Lakes have been difficult due to extreme cold and unpredictable weather patterns, but one of lead archeologists, Lucas Mendoza, just sat down for an interview this morning, hoping to explain what he hopes this new expedition will achieve.”

            And there he was. Sitting in a chair across from the reporter, Lucas aged better than I did all these years. Granted, he was a couple years younger than me, but the snow leopard had some secret method that helped keep his fur from greying like mine. Note to self: ask next time I got in contact with my old friend.

            It was when the whole table grew silent that I noticed Fernando. His awed expression made my tail wag again, reminding me of when Desmond first found out about my occupation.

            “Fernando,” I cleared my throat, “see that snow leopard there? He’s a colleague of mine with Project Atlantis.”

            Like that, my grandson turned his attention to me.

            “Is that true?” he gasped, glancing between me and the TV before refocusing back to the interview. “You actually know the Lucas Mendoza, Grandpa?”

            “I sure do, Fern. I was one of the first anthroids to be commissioned after him, and we went on a few expedition together. We still keep in touch sometimes after I retired.”

            “Why did you retire?” Fernando asked.

            “I was getting old.”

            He raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t Mr. Mendoza getting old too?”

            Adaline, Josephina and Desmond chuckled lightly. “Yeah,” I shrugged between a short chuckle, “but he refuses to retire. Archeology is his entire life.”

            Maybe in the future though, someone else could carry that torch. And at this moment, I could see it brightly burning in Fernando’s eyes. He might’ve found his future.