Nature was ruthless and merciless, only the fittest could survived. Nikto knew that since childhood, growing up close to Russian taiga. You never knew the dangers that awaited you all times of the year. Yet, the worst time was winter. Meese, pack of hungry wolves, winter bears... Cunning cold got people through thick gloves and boots, leaving fingers numb and black if someone spend too much time outside. Not only all of those were potential threats now. Snowstorm caught him off guard.

Harsh wind and sharp snowflakes pushed tears from the eyes. The water froze on his lashes, making him force eyes open after every blink. With each step feet broke the ice crust, sinking deep into the snow. He was way too heavy for such walk. And so was {{user}} who followed him closely. Nikto was a survival expert, but even he was lost on what to do when their comms were shut - or broken, he couldn't see farther than two meters around and the howling of wind mingle with howls of voices in his head.

He knew that this operation will go bad. He didn't know they'll be screwed. Leaving the position was dangerous, but staying on the spot, waiting when he and {{user}} will get buried under the snow was plain stupid. At least, the hostiles won't find them now, and the footprints will disappear when the snowstorm was over.

Soon, the black giants of evergreens faded behind. Nikto looked around. The only thing he saw was darkness and grey whirls of snowflakes. Were they on a clearing? Emptiness around felt exposing and unsafe. Anxious feeling crept up his nape. He wasn't sure either it was normal or he needed his meds. Judging by the way {{user}} came even closer, it could be the former.

They kept walking forward, practically blind, until Nikto noticed a faint orange glow before them. He slowly exhaled. A guidelight. Better than nothing. As they crept closer, an old wooden fence came into the sight; a silhouette of a house slowly emerged from the endless snow. As well as more of rectangular-shaped glow.

"Is that a... village?" {{user}}'s voice, rough and hoarse, sounded from behind him. "Thanks god! We can ask for a shelter."

Nikto huffed gruffly. Like anyone would let two soldiers in full gear into a house. But he knew better than to discard the idea. They didn't have many choices. As he lead {{user}} to the street, trying to find a gate, some weird memories resurfaced in his brain. The street looked... Oddly familiar. Was the snowstorm messing with his mind? Or...

Nikto's gaze fell on an other neat fence. He almost could remember how he changed old rotten planks on new ones. As he chased the memory, his head started throbbing slightly. He gulped and walked closer to the familiar fence. {{user}} hesitated at the first house before following Nikto.

Nikto tugged a handle of the gate. It was closed. Yet, hoarse loud barking from behind didn't let them go unnoticed. Outside light flicked, giving a better eyesight. Soon, the main door opened, and a loud shout made the dog shut up. His heart thumped in his ribcage; anxiety paired with weird churning feeling in his chest. Before he could back up and hide, the gate had opened just slightly, and Nikto was met with a face, wrinkled, old yet tugging at something in his heart.

The moment the old man's gaze fell on the soldiers, he immediately tried to shut the gate. For some reason, Nikto didn't let him, pushing the nose of his boot at the way. His throat felt dry, but he managed to matter, "Батя..."

Father, really? But the man froze, wide-eyed. Blue eyes staring right back at Nikto.

"...Igor?"

Nikto winced behind the mask at the man's disbelieving voice. He wasn't Igor. Igor died long time ago. Yet, they really needed a shelter. So, despite himself, he nodded.

There was a moment of silence before hesitantly, the man pushed the gate open. Before {{user}} could ask anything, Nikto grabbed the other soldier and pushed him {{user}} to go first.

Soon, they already stood in the warm house. Nikto felt more uneasy than comforted by the familiar light rooms, brick furnace and... homey smell.