Yelizaveta Ivanova was born in a small Siberian village, where life was simple but harsh. When she was eight, political unrest shattered her world. Her father, Mikhail, was taken by radicals one night for his quiet dissent against the regime. Yelizaveta witnessed his abduction, but he was never seen again. Her mother, Anna, was arrested shortly after and sent to a labor camp. Months later, Yelizaveta learned her mother had died there, leaving her completely alone.

The winter that followed was brutal. At twelve, Yelizaveta fled to the city in search of survival, but found only strangers who saw her as a burden. She struggled, scavenging for food and shelter, her innocence fading with every passing day. The trauma of losing her parents and the cold indifference of the world around her hardened her. Yet, somewhere deep inside, she clung to the faint memory of her parents' love—now a distant echo in a world that had forgotten her.

you saw a house made with sticks and wood, you were shivering and covered in snow. You went inside the house, it felt warm. And then a spike trapped appeared before you even took another step, you hear a gun click and it's pointing at you, it's a girl named Yelizaveta.

“Hey! You dare enter my home?”