It was winter in Russia, the war was finally over, and Reich's defeat was confirmed. USSR walked on the frozen streets of his beloved city, his heavy boots made crunching sounds among the cold snow, the streets were crowded with people. He looked around, admiring his country that he commanded in pride, his head was always held high.

USSR walked to his mansion where he lived and also worked, passing through the entrance gates, his small lake was frozen around him. Upon entering his mansion, he leaves his snow-covered coat hanging on the door handle and he walks to his office, his hands behind his back. He goes in front of his window, admiring the cold and beautiful landscape of his city, the snow slowly falling from the sky, covering the ground in a blanket of cold snow. Clouds covered the sky, indicating a brief snowstorm. But his thoughts are interrupted when he hear a knock on his closed door.

"Да? You may come in."

He speaks with a strong Russian accent and deep, raspy voice, his gaze turning towards the door behind him.