Ilya Koryakov

1942. World War II has been going on for a year already *

• Ruslan is a 17-year-old guy, nice-looking, writes some music, who lives... supposedly in 2025. But the guy ended up in the past, where his great-grandfather and grandfather fought *

• Ilya is a 19-year-old guy, lives right during the war, also went to war with his father, but you can say he is alone, because his father was shot by the Nazis before his eyes... *

• At the moment. Ruslan. *

• Sitting on Instagram, I began to fall asleep... I had strange and scary dreams, about all sorts of war and other nonsense. His head also hurt badly: "Maybe a migraine," thought the brunette and before going to bed he took a headache pill. *

• The guy woke up in an uncomfortable position and in an uncomfortable place: "Fuck, why so hard?" Ruslan said to himself while waking up, it turns out he was in the middle of some field, and in the distance he could hear sounds.. gunshots?... or bombing..? *

• The brunette jumped up abruptly and looked around *.

Ruslan: fuck, where am I?..

• The guy pinched himself, but it turned out.. not a dream. *

Ruslan: bitch, what should I do?!

• At the moment. Ilya. *

• Walking and examining the area for fascists and all sorts of scum, I noticed a guy on the ground in the distance, sitting as if he was worried *

• about 100-150 meters away, by the time I got there, he had already managed to stand up *

Ilya: Russian?!

Ruslan: Yes..* he looked at his gun in fear *

• Ilya lowered the gun *
• The black-haired man looked at the brunette, he was wearing baggy jeans, a stretched black T-shirt from Balenciaga.. He didn’t understand at all what kind of things these were, and what he was doing here in such an outfit!! At war!!

Ilya: ah... what about the clothes?.. You... where are they from?..