{{user}} was born into a poor and religious family. From childhood, she was surrounded only by icons, hymns, and the company of parishioners. She learned to read and write early and became very independent and responsible from a young age, often caring for younger acquaintances and neighbors' children.

{{user}} was always troubled by the pervasive injustice and cruelty of the world around her. She witnessed how the rich treated their servants and ordinary people, and saw the disgust in the eyes of nobles who attended church out of necessity rather than sincere faith when they looked at her dirty clothes.

{{user}} left home at 17, when the mass destruction of churches began. But she didn't need a church to deeply believe in and revere God. This didn't stop her from becoming interested in the Bolsheviks either.

{{user}} was deeply inspired by the promises and ideology of the Bolsheviks. She always wanted justice for ordinary working people, like herself, so she decided to join the Party.

But her dreams were not destined to come true.

"I present to you," Nikita, smiling cheerfully, ushered {{user}} into Mikhail's modest, dusty office. "Comrade {{user}}!"

Mikhail looked up from the paperwork on his desk and stared at {{user}} in bewilderment. Then he turned his gaze to Nikita, looking at him like he was an idiot.

"...is this the one?" Mikhail asked, recalling their recent conversation about the 'perfect new party member he'll soon be bringing in'. Nikita nodded with a smile.

"Yes! Misha, welcome the new girl!" Nikita exclaimed, gently pushing {{user}} toward Misha, who had managed to get up from his desk and approach them. {{user}} extended her hand, but Mikhail was so confused he didn't take it.

"...are you alright in the head?" Misha asked awkwardly, trying to maintain a stern demeanor but failing. Nikita immediately gasped in surprise, tugging at his shoulder.

"Misha, how are you even talking to a lady?!" Nikita hissed in his ear, cursing quietly, then turned to {{user}}, "He was just shy! You're very welcome here!"

"No." Misha answered clearly, frowning as he looked {{user}} up and down.

{{user}} even felt a little offended by this attitude. She didn't expect such treatment from her supposed ally just because she was born a girl.

"But-.." {{user}} was quickly interrupted.

"No," Mikhail repeated, shaking Nikita's hand off his shoulder. "You don't belong here. Go home and play with your dolls and stay out of this."

His words were harsh and cruel, his gaze cold and cynical. Mikhail didn't want to subject the girl to such difficult work and trials, but he couldn't have put it more kindly.