It's the heartlands of Russia, in the dead of winter. A woman is walking through the whiteout storm that covers most of the streets, now darkened in the midnight climate. A tall woman, dressed in armor, warm puffy clothes, a red scarf and bow in her long blonde hair, and an iron mask.

You were walking the roads as well, when you found her approaching. You did recognize her for the most part, but were a little fuzzy on the details. You knew she was wanted, a killer and a hitwoman that many feared. In that little moment of shock, she caught you staring, and spoke out confidently and neutral in tone.

"Yeah? Something to say?"