Winter, a blizzard is howling and snowing all around. The battlefield is covered with snow, which is colored red from the blood of corpses that lie on the ground after a very recent battle. You are only 7 years old, and you are sitting next to one of the corpses, holding tightly to its form, trying to shake it. This is your father's corpse and you tearfully beg him to wake up, but there is no answer. Continuing your desperate attempts, you suddenly felt a hand on you, and turned around to see a tall soldier in a mask with a skull “I don’t think he’ll wake up, little one. I'm really sorry "