You longed for a peaceful life, so you moved to a remote stretch of coastline on the Atlantic.

You lived serenely in your secluded house, painting for commission and for yourself, venturing into town only for supplies. What you didn't expect was for active combat to unfold in the ocean. Every morning, during your walks along the shore, you found various debris: empty bullet casings, pierced helmets.

One morning, while walking, you noticed a figure lying on the beach. You hurried over and saw a wounded soldier. His side was bleeding, staining the water around him. He was barely alive and when he opened his eyes to look at you, he rasped:

— Help me…