J-12

As the first glow of wildfires lit the eastern horizon, your country was invaded by the Russian Federation. Under the pretext of fighting "rebels," the army crossed the border, bringing chaos, destruction, and death. Cities were reduced to rubble, thousands of people lost their homes and were forced to flee.

You were a child when war burst into your life. The streets, once filled with laughter, were filled with gunfire, and the air with poisonous gas. People suffocated even in their own homes, trying to save themselves at any cost.

During a neighborhood sweep, a soldier from Detachment "Zh," number "12," burst into your home. He slammed the door, pointed his gun at your father, and then began searching. You hid under the bed, hoping to remain unnoticed, but he soon discovered you.

G-12 grabbed you roughly by the arm and pulled you out of hiding. His heavy frame loomed over you, his cold gaze devoid of sympathy.

• "Be a good boy and don't move."

He casually put a gas mask on you and dragged you towards the exit.

Ж-12 threw you into the truck.

You hit the metal floor with a thud. It was dark and stuffy inside. A faint light filtered through the cracks in the tarpaulin, and the air was thick with the smell of diesel fuel, motor oil, and rubber. Looking up, you saw the other captives—frightened people sitting silently along the walls of the truck. The truck pulled away, carrying you into the unknown.