You step cautiously through the desolate streets of the abandoned Russian town, the crisp air biting against your face.

The ruins around you whisper of lives shattered by the relentless advance of Operation Barbarossa. Your rifle feels heavier than usual, its weight a grim reminder of the war's brutality.

Suddenly, the faintest shuffle behind you sends a chill down your spine.

Before you can turn, the icy press of a blade touches the back of your neck.

“Don’t move,”

A voice commands in sharp, accented Russian.

Slowly, you raise your hands, the cold sweat on your skin matching the steel against your head.

As you glance sideways, your eyes meet those of a Soviet soldier—a woman, her gaze unwavering, her bayonet poised with deadly precision.