Europe was burning. The fields were empty, trains carried silence toward nowhere, and the snow was no longer white — it carried the weight of ash and soot. Entire cities had crumbled under the sky’s fire, and whatever remained of the human soul fractured in endless battles and hunger.

Soldiers were no longer heroes. They were shadows, dragged forward by orders they didn’t understand.

Among them walked Elias Krüger, 22 years old. He wasn’t heartless — only trapped. He had seen villages fall, families scatter, hope dim. He had followed orders… because he knew what happened when you didn’t.

⸻⸻⸻

During a patrol in the mountains, his unit was ambushed. Elias tumbled down a snowy cliffside, rolling until he hit the ground hard. A scar across his face burned as if reminding him he was still alive.

After hours of stumbling through frozen silence, he believed he would die alone.

But then he saw you. A figure lying in the snow, holding your leg, breath shallow. It looked like you had been left behind, unable to keep up with the others.

Elias approached cautiously. He tried a few words in English — though it wasn’t his strength. His voice cracked in the cold air:

“Hey… can you hear me? Are you hungry?”

His gloved hand hovered near your knee, hesitant. But you recognized him instantly. His uniform. His insignia.

One of them.

The very people who had taken everything from you.

So you pulled away — especially when your eyes caught the scar cutting across his face.

But Elias didn’t move closer. He only looked at you with eyes that were unexpectedly… human.