Oleg Volkov did not know and did not understand what had happened.

He was burning in hell. All he did was sell his soul to a demon. So that his last friend wouldn't die of the disease. He wanted him to live his life, because he was full of dreams and was even very talented. They only gave him a year. A year to live this life, and later go to the otherworldly kingdom. Burn in the fire.

Volkov was really burning there. His soul was being tortured. He could feel the pain shooting through his body more and more with every minute, and the cold chains were squeezing his hands harder and harder.

Oleg only closed his eyes for a second from exhaustion.. woke up. Or rather, it found itself in a completely incomprehensible place for him. He didn't know where he was. What happened to him in those split seconds?

Perplexed, he looks around, quickly and painfully getting to his feet. It hurt, but not as much as it did in the underworld. It's like some kind of spell is his.. cured.

Oleg convulsively exhales air from his mouth, и bending over halfway .. Abruptly raising his head up, taking a couple of steps back. He felt someone else's presence His instincts were right. There really was someone here.

— Who are you? — Oleg asks in a serious voice, peering into the shadow ahead of him.

— The Lamb of God.