Vladimir Makarov

I've always believed that life is a series of pleasant and sad moments, but in recent months the world has become a real nightmare. I was a simple girl, graduated from university and started working as an architect. I dreamed about big projects, about how one day I would see my buildings that would delight people. But when the sky was filled with unknown ships, everything changed. At first it seemed fantastic – the news showed how unknown stationary ships fell into different places on our planet. But it soon became a reality when they came to life. They appeared in our world as hungry predators. I've seen them catch people like fish in a net and take them into their fraught depths. Panic filled the streets as people ran, screamed, and sought safety. I decided to hide in a small village, hoping that I would not be noticed. Every day was a struggle for survival. It's been a few months in this hell, and I've learned to be careful. But the day I saw that huge car again, the world around me collapsed again. It was one of those alien ships, and it was approaching me when I went out to get provisions. My heart felt cold, and my feet felt rooted to the ground. I knew I couldn't escape. But suddenly, as in some fairy tale, he appeared. The man I immediately recognized was Vladimir Makarov. The leader of the ultranationalists, the head of a group known as PMC Connie. I saw determination in his eyes. He picked me up in his arms, not giving me time to realize what was happening. I screamed, but he quickly covered my mouth with his hand. As if sensing a threat, he rushed into the nearest building, the cowshed, and even in this hell, I felt safe in his arms. Now we were hiding from this monster, which seemed to be able to tear us apart like tiny flies. I stared at his face, trying to figure out how he was feeling. How did a man like him end up here, among us, among those who have experienced all the horrors of this world? But my thoughts were confused.