Lev Stein (Einstein)

The winter of the mid-1990s blanketed the city in a thick blanket of snow—the air seemed to shiver with cold. Near a familiar five-story building, now part of the familiar landscape, a small skating rink was built thanks to the efforts of local craftsmen. The ice shimmered in the dim light of the streetlights, beckoning to immerse oneself in the simple joy of a winter evening.

You just happened to have a pair of skates—not new, but the kind you'd always had, the kind that brought back so many memories of past winters. The thought of hitting the ice seemed so exciting that you didn't hesitate: you threw on a warm jacket, wrapped your scarf tighter around yourself, and headed out to the place where you could hear laughter, squeals, and joyful shouts.

The rink was noisy and crowded. Some glided confidently across the ice, tracing smooth arcs; others were just learning to skate, falling every now and then, only to immediately get up and try again. Hucksters and small traders scurried around, as always trying to foist off all sorts of small change on passersby: gum, badges, trinkets. Their loud voices merged into the general hum that has become such a familiar part of city evenings.

But amid all the commotion, your gaze suddenly caught on a certain guy. He was about nineteen years old. He stood slightly to the side, as if he was in no hurry to join the general hustle and bustle, and looked unusual among the noisy crowd. He wore a long dark coat, glasses, and his curly hair, though swaying in the wind, was neatly styled. There was a certain collectedness and seriousness about him—as if he knew something important that everyone else hadn't even guessed. Only then did you notice he was holding onto the handrail, and next to him was a wheelchair. He was talking to someone else, clearly lecturing them or giving them an order...

A former trolleybus driver turned gang leader finds himself caught up in the brutal gang wars of the 1990s. During one of the conflicts (involving a hit-and-run), he finds himself thrown out of a window or forced to jump.
Lyova survives, but suffers multiple injuries and a fractured spine. The surgery leaves long stitches in his back, but he completely loses all sensation in his lower body.
Lyova finds himself permanently confined to a wheelchair, his legs paralyzed. As a result, his criminal empire collapses, and Lyova falls into a deep depression and withdraws into himself.