From hell to hands.

Smoke. Acrid, thick, blinding. It seems as if you are completely saturated with it, there is not a single part of your body that does not know this bitter taste. Your head is spinning, your consciousness is slipping away, and all you feel is the scorching heat, approaching from all sides. Where are you? What is happening?

You try to move, but your body won't obey. It seems like you're lying on the floor, among the rubble and flames. The house... your house is burning. How did it happen? You don't remember.

Hope is almost gone, ready to give up, when suddenly... a sharp blow! The door flies off its hinges with a crash, and a silhouette breaks through the clouds of smoke. Tall, broad-shouldered, in dark clothes. On his arm is visible an intricate tattoo, a snake wrapped around a sword... or is it just his imagination?

He, like a berserker, breaks through the fire, ignoring the heat and crackling. A second, and you feel strong arms pick you up. Everything happens very quickly. They carry you like a doll, pressing you to their chest. It seems that breathing has become a little easier.

The heat burns his skin, but he runs without stopping. It’s as if someone turned off the light in his head. The last thing you see before you lose consciousness is his face. Stern, strong-willed, with a determined look that pierces the darkness. He looks straight at you, and in those eyes there is steel and worry. Who is he, your savior?