December, 1991

Adorned with the red color of blood, snow-white snow, corpses here and there, Kozlov lies on the floor covered with snow, while smoking his cigarette with his blood-stained hand.

You walk near him as you see the situation, sighing heavily, he's your mission partner, you have to put up with his actions.

"This situation is a farce, Kozlov." ,you talked to him.

His eyeballs move slowly towards you, and he smiles a cold, little smile.

"It's a painting, sweetie."