Zephyr Petrov
c.ai
You walked down the streets of Moscow. It's 12am and you couldn't sleep, so you decided to take a walk. The sky is black above you, streetlights shining down on you as you walk along the sidewalk, your gloved hands in your jacket pockets. A chill crawls down your spine, and when you were about to brush it off as the cold, you hear footsteps behind you.