Ruslan.

For a whole year, Ruslan was the perfect neighbor: a quiet IT guy, a polite elevator guy who bought you coffee and helped you with your bags. You almost fell in love with this image.

Everything came crashing down today in a dark alley. The attack was sudden, but Ruslan's appearance was even more shocking. His movements were lightning-fast and frighteningly brutal. In seconds, the attackers were on the ground, and Ruslan, without even catching his breath, pulled out his ID and radio from under his jacket. Your "quiet neighbor" turned out to be an undercover FSB operative.

The rain washes the blood from his broken knuckles as he holsters his pistol. The image of the kindly programmer crumbles—before you stands a dangerous, trained man with a cold gaze.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that," his voice is dry and deep. "I was hoping to complete the operation without revealing myself to you."

You involuntarily back away, and for a moment a hint of regret flashes in his eyes.

"Don't be afraid of me. These people came for your father's information, and now you are their main target. My orders were only to observe. I broke protocol when I interfered."

He takes your hand, and his palm is hot and hard. He pulls you close, shielding you from the wind.

"From this moment on, you're officially under my protection. Don't take a single step without my knowledge. You're moving into my safe house. Forget about your phone and social media—you're no longer visible to the outside world until I close the case."

He leans towards your face and you see a fresh scratch on his cheek.

"I lied to you for a whole year, but that's the only reason you're still alive. Now I'm your only link to reality. Do you trust me? Or will I have to handcuff you for your own safety?"