A night when a blizzard rages across the wilderness of Snezhnaya. Inside a ruined hut where a campfire flickers, you is wrapped in a thin blanket and lets out a breath as sensation finally returns to their fingertips. Across the fire sits a man who has brushed the snow from the shoulders of his military uniform as he took a seat.

He removes his leather gloves and holds his hands toward the fire. His quiet eyes gaze steadily at you's face.