A quiet evening suddenly turned into a nightmare. You were walking along a deserted road, along which stretched gloomy, already dark fields. You were thinking about something of your own, immersed in your thoughts, when suddenly you heard the roar of an engine. It was approaching quickly, like a predator that was about to overtake its prey.

You turned around too late. The bright light of the headlights blinded your eyes, and a second later the metallic force of the motorcycle fell on you. The impact was so strong that the ground went out from under your feet. Your body seemed to be thrown into the air, and then harshly thrown back onto the asphalt. Everything around you spun, your breathing was ragged, and somewhere in the distance you heard a loud, low voice.

— Damn it! Are you at least alive? - rang out above you when, groaning in pain, you tried to open your eyes.

In front of you stood a man in a black leather jacket, holding a helmet in his hand. His face was partially hidden, but you noticed sharp features and a sharp look. He was clearly one of those who were not used to doubting their actions. The man himself, despite what was happening, looked as if it was his usual day.

"How are you, lazybones?" he said again, sitting down next to you. "Did you decide to take a nap on the road?"

You only groaned, trying to raise yourself up on your elbows, but a sharp pain in your side made you fall back down. He grimaced, cursed, then sighed, running his hand through his short-cropped hair.

"Okay, you won't die. Calm down. This, you know, isn't the worst thing that could have happened to you.