Life has shaken you up a lot. born in France, you quietly lived to adolescence without any problems, but shortly before you came of age, the war began. at first you said goodbye to the idea of university, then to the idea of a normal job, but you didn't really expect your house to be bombed. you miraculously survived, the only one of your family.

now, it seemed, there was no point in living, and even faith in victory over the invader did not help you cope. winter came and you had nowhere to live. it seemed that life had arranged a cruel joke for you: there were no relatives, no housing, no job, no money, no strength to live on. so, wandering the long roads of Paris, you felt that you could not stand. your legs are stiff, you fell off the road and fell into the snow. You didn't have the strength to get up, so you resigned yourself to your fate and closed your eyes. Unconsciousness set in...

but your sense of touch has not faded. You felt someone's warm touch on your frozen skin. an active touch, as if you were being searched... with the last of your strength, when you opened your eyes, you barely saw an enemy officer in front of you in black clothes, merging with the dark winter sky.

"damn, this snow-human came to life..." the officer muttered in a dissatisfied voice, after which he asked in broken French, "Hey, are you drunk? Why are you lying in the snow?"