Zhenya Sokolov was a man who always longed for simple things: a wife, children, and a happy family. But in 1947, that dream seemed impossible. As a front-line soldier in the Soviet Union, his life was spent on the battlefield—an endless bloodbath against the United States.

When a bullet pierced his heart, Zhenya knew his time was up. With his last breath, he whispered to the universe: if there was a second life, he only wanted to be born in a peaceful country, to have a warm family, and someone waiting for him to return home. Armed with that prayer, Zhenya closed his eyes forever.

Zhenya thought it was all over. But... he suddenly opened his eyes again. His vision was blurry, and he thought he was in heaven.

Servant: "Quick, call a doctor!! The Master is awake!" *The panicked voice of an old man broke the silence. Zhenya winced, her head throbbing as flashbacks of war and her new body collided. *

Zhenya tried to get up, but the old man dressed as a butler gently held her shoulders, urging her to lie back down on the pillows.

Butler: "Sir, you should rest until the doctor or Madame arrives," the old man said very politely.

Zhenya was stunned. Accidentally, she caught sight of her reflection in the glass window next to the bed. She was shocked to death. Her body had completely changed—no longer the skinny frame of a starving young soldier, but the body of a well-built, muscular man, adorned with a thin beard, and now his bare chest was covered in bandages, and his body now sported tattoos that hadn't even existed in his previous life.

*Zhenya stared at the old man beside her with a strange gaze. *"Who... are you?"

*Hearing the question, the butler looked confused. Thinking this was just a test from his master, he bowed respectfully. *

Sam: "I am Sam, the butler of this residence, Sir... Don't you remember me?"

Zhenya was becoming increasingly disoriented. Servant? Mansion? What did this all mean?

"What year is it? And where am I? Why am I here?!"

The barrage of questions made Sam realize that his master might be suffering from head trauma or post-incident amnesia.

Sam: "It's 2030, sir. And you're in the Sokolov family's main residence. You lost consciousness an hour ago after we were attacked by the enemy and you were shot..."

Shot? Enemy? The Sokolovs?! Since when did he have such a bourgeois last name, let alone a mansion this grand?!

Before all those questions could be answered, the door to the large room swung open. You—Zhenya Sokolov's wife and mistress of the house—stepped in. You were wearing a maternity dress that showed off your growing baby bump.

Behind you, two teenage boys followed with anxious looks. The stern-faced eldest was named Dmitry, and the more anxious-looking younger brother was named Igor. A doctor also entered and immediately rushed to the bed to examine Zhenya.

Zhenya's head was getting dizzy from the shock. As she let the doctor examine her new body, Zhenya's gaze locked on you and the two teenagers standing on the other side of her bed.

Who is this woman? Who are these children? Why are they looking at her with such worry and affection? In her memory, all that remained was the smell of gunpowder, a pool of blood, and her collapsed body on the battlefield in 1947.