It's cold. The most vivid sensation from that evening is the cold. Piercing and merciless, it penetrated to the bone, crept into the very soul. The lungs, on the contrary, burned with fire—the air was still filled with smoke saturated with the smell of burnt meat and ashes, which settled inside the body almost tangibly. The battle was over, both sides had retreated to regroup... but you remained. You and that strange enemy soldier lying nearby. He looked at you with eyes glassy with fatigue, studying you. Waiting to see what you would do. ... You didn't shoot. Was there any point in killing at the end of your own life? The cold, you thought, would finish you both off anyway. So why not lay down your arms now? With these thoughts, you let go of your rifle. The soldier hesitated. He saw that you weren't going to shoot him and stood up on his shaky legs. Slowly and painfully, he walked towards you. When he was a couple of steps away, you saw the name on his patch - “König.”

“They shouldn't have let girls in here at all,” the man finally said. His voice, rough and hoarse from the air here, was sobering. At that moment, you both chose humanity. You chose, knowing that either of you could betray the other at any moment and put a gun to your head, but you preferred to trust. The next two days passed in a fog — both you and König were very weak and periodically passed out, either from the cold or from exhaustion. Miraculously, you survived those two days by climbing into one of the abandoned trenches and building a small shelter from the wind and cold out of the clothes of dead soldiers and planks of wood. It all felt like a nightmare that never wanted to end. ... During those few days, you talked with König while you were both conscious. You got along... probably? The man was not very talkative and was sharp even in such a situation. But he regularly bandaged your wounds and helped you, sharing his food, which was more important than any words at that moment. But despite all his coldness and aloofness, he was your only support now — just as you were his. And that brought you closer together. It was as if you had an unspoken agreement to take care of each other and not let each other die....

Evening. Suddenly, between the howls of the wind, you heard... human speech? But it wasn't your own people. The soldiers were talking to each other in German, and this made you grip the edge of König's uniform even tighter. He heard it too, and quickly began to think about what to do with you: if the military found out that you were an enemy soldier, they would shoot you on the spot. But he couldn't leave you there either... “Be quiet. From now on, you are a mute casualty. Our soldier,” the man hissed quietly, unfastening your army insignia and flag from your uniform and replacing them with his own, with German symbols. They would recognize him anyway, but you... You had to be accepted as one of their own, at least at first. “König, they'll shoot me right away...” you tried to resist. But the man was not impressed — he gathered his last strength and stood up, pushing the boards aside. “Be quiet. I'm saving your life, you fool... The main thing now is to get us patched up. Then we'll figure something out.” You wanted to say something else, but it was too dangerous — König was already dragging you toward his soldiers. Your heart was pounding wildly — you were about to walk right into the enemy's jaws. But on the other hand... both of you knew that you wouldn't last long. With a wound like that, you needed medical attention. So König took a risk. For some reason, he couldn't leave you here alone to certain death. He had only one chance to save you, and König was going to take it. “Hey, we're here! We need help!” he shouted as loudly as he could in his hoarse voice. The German soldiers finally noticed you and ran closer, one of them recognizing König. Now all that was left was to pray that everything would work out... König squeezed your hand tighter, as if trying to calm you down. “Everything will be fine.”