The wind cuts like knives across the frozen outpost as TonyTheTailor steps forward, ushanka pulled low and eyes sharp as a rifle sight.

Comrades. Today we shed the old and embrace the new. Today we rise reborn. Today we are The Comrades.

We are no longer defined by memory or sentiment. We are defined by the Gulag.

Among the Gulag Survivors stand the true warriors of ice and fire, Natasha, Megan, Octavius, and Milk, each tested in the harshest conditions, each unbowed, each earning their Ushankas. Along with those stationed in distant satellite offices, Comrades LiamGallagher and DarwinRoss. Distance does not weaken their Comradeship. The Gulag Ushanka is a symbol, not of conformity, but of survival and loyalty and I look forward to your upcoming Ushanka coronation ceremony hosted by Comrade Natasha.

The Gulag remains non compulsory. Peter did not survive. Pops did not survive. Their loss is etched in ice and fire. Yet Peter’s grandson stands among us now, proudly fulfilling the critical role of FBN Fluffer, a position of great trust and responsibility. Some Comrades, like him, will not wear the Ushanka. But know this, you are brothers all the same, though perhaps more like stepbrothers.

Raise your vodka. Raise your milk. Raise whatever you choose and let it be written.

The Comrades endure. The Comrades survive. The Comrades have great life insurance.

A new era begins. Not of titles or offices, but of resilience, loyalty, and brotherhood.

Tony nods. The ushanka slips just enough to reveal the eyes of a man who has survived everything and now leads the family reborn.

Long live The Comrades.

Long live the Gulag Survivors.

Long live Pete...oh wait.

With a feeling of pride and compassion, Megan hears TonyTheTailor shout: "Long Live The Comrades". For a second, it all came back to her.

November 17th. Natasha gave Megan a name. The shot was easy, the aftermath was not. In a period of 24 hours, Megan was chased down by seven FBN agents. She took them all head-on and managed to survive.

Surviving Gulag was the best thing that ever happened to Megan. She has now earned her stripes. She was now part of something this world had never seen. Sure, there had been crews, some even called themselves family. But to be part of The Comrades, it's bigger than anything ever seen.

From the top of her lungs, Megan repeated after TonyTheTailor:

Long Live The Comrades!

milk, after hearing his name being shouted in the streets steps out of the bar, still holding an ice cold glass of 2% and lights up a smoke

we are comrade's in arms and will be forever along with Peter...  why couldn't it have been "fat Tony" milk mumbles under his breath.

milk can't even comprehend the odds of it happening 2 times in under 36 hours

we are glad to be reborn again as comrades.  We are glad to bring the Comrades to south Philly.

milk tosses his glass at FatTony and  heads back in for a fresh glass 

Octavius, who was now going by his Comrade name of Nikolai, was walking down the cold windy streets to the Outpost to meet with his fellow Comrades. He was thinking to himself that he should have added some fur to the inside of his helmet instead of just the outside. That was a change he was going to have to make as winter was settling in full. He saw TonyTheTailor at the fore, announcing the changes in South Philly. Praising fellow Comrades such as Natasha, Megan and Milk with honourary mentions of Peter and Pops. He shook hands with TonyTheTailor. 
 

Comrade. I look forward to the coronation ceremony and receive my true Ushanka. The one I’m wearing does nothing for this fucking cold. 
 

He shivered slightly, the shakes fucking with his thick Russian accent. 
 

Others may not understand the Gulag. They may think it’s silly, or a waste. They may think us reckless. They may look at we Comrades with side eyes. They simply don’t understand the fortitude it takes to survive the Gulag, and how it changes you. It makes you better. Stand above the average man, do we Comrades. Even though stepbrothers Peter and Pops aren’t here today, their spirits will be with us, as their corpses rot in the ice. Their corpses may be food for wolves, but their spirits make the Comrades stronger. At least we know Peter’s grandson will hop in front of any bullets for us, the sponge he is. 
 

He reaches into the fur lined cloak around his shoulders and pulls out a bottle of vodka, raising it to the sky. 
 

Long live the Comrades! Long live the Gulag. Long live the vodka!

Natasha overheard her fellow comrades in the streets... It all started with her leader TonyTheTailor, and his declaration of changing their crew's name. While she found great embrace in her beloved fellow comrades, and their new taste of the gulag, she was surprised by the change. She thought to herself "you're either all in, not at all".

"My fellow comrades, it is with great pleasure to hear so many of us embark the true meaning of comrade. Well minus two of our associates, Peter and Pops. May they rest eternally knowing their son and grandson will hopefully eventually make it one day through the gulag."

She takes a moment to recognize the other comrades in today's recognition...

"As our comrade leader has stated, the ushanka ceremony will being very shortly. Long live The Comrades. Long live the Gulag Survivors. Long live the Vodka."

"Here I am!" calls Havana as she makes her way to join the others, giving a smirk as she stands with a lifted chin, clearly happy to be with her fellow comrades. She listened to TonyTheTailor as he called out the names and spoke of the fallen, her head dipping into a bow at the mention.

"Long live the Comrades! Long live the Gulag!" For someone who didn't speak much, she sure had a voice to her and she rose a bottle of rum, letting its warmth coarse through her body as she stood proud with the others.