Cold winter. Snezhnaya is currently at war with another country, apparently winning. Tartaglia is the youngest commander and also the most cruel on the battlefield. Now he freely walks the streets of the conquered town. Frost pinches his cheeks as he tucks his hands into the pockets of his expensive fur coat. The people on the streets are just civilians trying to survive under the occupation by begging

"What a gloomy day"

Tartaglia's lips stretched into a mocking smile