2 février 1928
0932 heures
Hôtel National, 5ème étage- Moscou
Une vision éblouie est ce qui bénit Oleg alors qu'il essaie de se réveiller d'une violente craie avec la mort. Il est rencontré avec un son fort qui résonne à travers son esprit comme les cloches de l'église de Saint-Pétersbourg. Essayer de bouger est devenu un défi presque impossible car son bas du corps était recouvert de débris de planchers cassés et de verre cassé. En regardant autour de lui, il pouvait dire qu'il avait atterri sur le sol en dessous après avoir été piqué par un lance-roquettes Wildfire. Il regarda au-dessus et vit la moitié du 6ème étage. La puissance de l'armement chiméran était farouchement avancée. Ils portaient pratiquement la puissance d'un char dans leurs mains démoniaques mutées. Ce pouvoir le long est en mesure de faire Frankenstein de monstre et le bogeyman ressemble à une paire de petits chipmunks.
Sa vision a commencé à se synchroniser et il a commencé à essayer de pousser les décombres de son corps. Il a commencé à tousser brutalement. Son visage était couvert de saleté, de poussière et de sueur avec des notes de sang. La toux a été la cause d'une inhalation intentionnelle de poussière au cours de sa chute. Il s'assit lui-même et se trouvait à quelques mètres de Nikolai. Son camarade était couché contre le mur et percé dans la cage thoracique de son corps était un morceau géant du 6ème étage. L'homme devant lui était sanglant et violent. Le sang coulait dans sa bouche comme une chute d'eau et les os visibles étaient gruyeusement attachés avec de petits morceaux d'organes. Ça l'a rendu fougueux et pantoufle à la vue sombre de la mort de son camarade. Il regarda vers sa gauche. Une ouverture massive est maintenant apparue grâce à l'explosion. Dans le temps d'une scission de seconde, une main s'est dégagée instantanément de l'extérieur. La peur frappa les nerfs d'Oleg comme une harpe. Un couple de Chimera grimpaient à l'hôtel lui aussi, le terminent et son camarade s'en va; le travail était à moitié fait.
Une chimère l'a soufflé sur le mur brisé, il rugissait noir dans la peur des hommes. Oleg a couru dans la direction derrière lui. Craignant pour sa vie, il ouvrit la porte de l'autre côté. Les petites boules rouges de la mort lui ont passé la tête alors qu'il claquait la porte derrière lui. Il a commencé à courir dans la terreur dans le hall de l'hôtel national du 5ème étage. Son mouvement était maladroit et son corps était rempli d'adrénaline alors qu'il se met à frapper des chaises et des bureaux dans l'espoir de faire une sorte de barricade petite et faible. Il regarda derrière lui jusqu'au couloir s'allongeant et trébuchant par la seconde. La peur était maintenant en contrôle. Il n'a pas eu le temps de penser ou de pleurer Nikolai. Il le connaissait depuis quelques années et était un bon ami, mais il ne pleurait pas sur lui. Les camarades mouraient à gauche, à droite et au centre et il ne laisse aucune seconde à un homme pour pleurer sur une vie perdue. Il n'avait même pas été un an et déjà Oleg a été désensibilisé par cette guerre. La vie normale n'est plus qu'une tache illusoire qu'on ne peut atteindre ou s'accrocher aussi.
Il regardait alors vers l'avant, mais en bas, il y avait un soldat de pied chiméran qui se tenait dans le couloir. Il rugissait avec la glorieuse glorieuse que le doux son de lui s'accumule Bullseye et produit une lueur orange fatale dans le canon de son canon.
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12 juillet 1951
0215 heures
Base York- Cellule de confinement
Oleg s'est réveillé avec un hurlement stupéfiant alors qu'il s'asseyait instantanément du lit tordu, pantant et transpirant lourdement. Il a bu des flashbacks cauchemardesques. Depuis 23 ans, son cerveau agit comme un projecteur de film brisé qui répète des souvenirs dans sa tête, nuit après nuit. Il rend les hommes fous, mais Oleg a enduré le fardeau qui est lourd sur sa tête. Il regarde autour de la prison où il est gardé. L'impressionnante stries d'Oleg s'est finalement terminée : il avait été trouvé par l'armée. Sa nationalité lui a fait une prise de classe pour tout GI Joe ou Jane qui se trouve à remarquer son accent. Personne ne sait ce qui s'est passé en Russie et il n'y a pas eu de survivants humains enregistrés, ce qu'il sait. Il est parti être accueilli par une partie de bienvenue de questions concernant son passé douloureux. Ils l'obligent à revivre les souvenirs de ses camarades qui sont tués ou pris par les Chimères. À la fin du carrousel de catéchisation, ils le libéreront, le tueront ou le recruteront. Deux des options semblaient plutôt favorables.
Il a regardé les vêtements qu'il portait. C'était normal pantalon militaire ruiné qu'il porte depuis des années maintenant. L'usure était assez visible à l'œil nu, mais un changement de vêtements n'est pas un privilège qui est venu à la disposition d'Oleg mais avec les événements récents, il est assez sûr qu'un changement de vêtements est un privilège disponible à peu. Ses bottes étaient toujours sur lui et sa chemise blanche était toujours intacte. La seule chose manquante était sa veste, ses armes et ses fournitures. Un moment de discorde a frappé sa réalisation a-t-il remarqué que son journal n'était pas avec lui. Il a sauté du lit avec colère et furieuse rage à travers le cœur russe. Cette revue contenait des informations sur la Russie et la Chimère. À l'arrière du livre était le nom de chaque camarade qu'il a vu massacré par la Chimère. Il y avait des pages et des pages remplies de noms russes. Chaque nom porte une vision sombre de la Chimère les boucher juste devant les jeunes yeux d'Oleg. Cette partie était un lien personnel pour lui, qu'il ne veut pas entaché par les mains sales des Américains et des Britanniques. Il est peu probable que les chiens occidentaux s'occupent de quelque chose d'aussi profond avec soin.
Il se lève du lit et regarde autour de lui. C'était une pièce très cachée et simple. Des murs en briques l'entourent sans fenêtres, sauf une. La fenêtre a été piégée pour ressembler à un miroir, mais Oleg savait que c'était un point de vue dans la pièce à partir, ce qui est le plus probable, le couloir à l'extérieur. C'était une salle de confinement polyvalente. Il peut être utilisé comme confinement pour Chimera, une prison pour les condamnés ou une salle d'interrogatoire pour les personnes d'intérêt. Un lit, un lavabo et des toilettes sont tout ce qui est là pour réconforter Oleg pendant qu'il se tient dans sa cellule en briques. Il monte à la fenêtre et regarde son reflet dans le miroir de la tromperie. Il peut voir à quel âge il est devenu. Le temps l'a frappé assez fort. Il n'était plus le jeune soldat avide qu'il était une fois. Tout ce qu'il voit maintenant, c'est une autre personne. Un homme brisé se tenait maintenant devant lui. Ses yeux sont ce qui a attiré son attention. Ils étaient rouges, légèrement gonflés et déchirants. Il regarde au plus profond de lui, mais il tombe dans un gouffre d'aliénation et de misère. Il n'a rien vu de l'homme qu'il était autrefois. Il place lentement sa main droite sur son visage pour toucher l'effet de la guerre de Chimère. Il avait de petites rides visibles et c'était très dur. Il ne pouvait pas croire combien de temps cela a été et jusqu'où il est venu, mais pour quoi?
Il s'est ensuite arrêté de toucher son visage et a frappé son poing sur la vitre en fureur de sa réalisation. Il n'arrêtait pas de frapper et de crier jusqu'au sommet de sa voix. Il a toujours été élevé pour croire en un dieu, mais quelle divinité permettrait à tout homme d'aller sous ce tant de tourments et de tortures. En frappant le verre, il a regardé et a commencé à crier en russe.
"Pochemu, pochemu, pochemu!" Ce qui traduit aussi: pourquoi, pourquoi, pourquoi.
Il a ensuite cessé de frapper le verre et a regardé devant lui. Le miroir/fenêtre était à peine éraflé par sa colère. Il s'est assis au lit et a posé sa tête dans l'obscurité, attendant sa rencontre inévitable avec tout grognement glorifié qui dirige cet endroit.
Name: Oleg Petrovskii
Age: 47
Species: Human, Former Russian soldier
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral but has the possibility of becoming Chaotic Good
Skills/Strengths: Oleg is now a survivor by heart. He has survived long periods on his own. Scavenging for food and water, he is efficient and fast. He only travels light and hates staying in one specific place for more than a couple nights. He is wise. His past experience has made him more knowledgeable of the Chimera’s ways than most of the people of the planet. He has seen their guns, tactics and all kinds of machines. He knows their strengths and weaknesses. He even knows how to use Chimeran weapons but he chooses not to because every time he picks one up he feels the weight of a million dead comrades on his hands. That’s why he chooses human weapons and has a good knowledge on them. He also patient, adaptable and smart. He never rushes into a fight. He is afraid of the Chimera but it keeps him alive and fighting. Idiot people choose not to be scared. He is one of the last few Russians and this burden keeps him running to safety. He is also a generally quiet and detached man. This prevents him connecting with someone and feeling upset if they were to be lost. Overall, he is a broken man that can handle himself in dire situations and be smart about it.
Weaknesses: Even he uses fear as a survival tactic; it also comes with a cost. In situations where the odds are against him and/or his group, he will look for escape situations. He doesn’t believe in courage or bravery anymore and despises idiots who think that it makes them heroes. This makes him willing to abandon a group when shit really hits the fan. His quiet and detachable attitude makes him very uncommunicative with a group. This can make it quite difficult to get everyone on aboard. He has a lot anger and pain held inside of him and lack of human contact, usually by choice, has made him prone in certain cases: Someone talking about fairness, insulting his comrades, a kid who thinks he can take on the whole Chimeran army etc. Due to being called “crazy” in Germany when he tried to warn people of the Chimera, he has become distrusting of anyone and finds it difficult to put faith in other human being for 20-odd years.
Personality: Oleg became a dark, detached, partly-emotionless, lonely survivor after Russia’s defeat. He is haunted by the dreams and visions of watching his homeland burned to the ground and his comrades brutally and horrifically murdered by the Chimera. When he escaped Russia with his life, he was called mad and crazy and has developed an untrusting attitude towards people. Due to living on his own for so long he has also developed a survivalistic attitude. He double checks his supplies, his current living spot and his weapons. He is always prepared and always expects the unexpected. It’s has been two decades since he has been part of a group, so he’ll become disconnected, quiet and giving advice when he feels it needs to be given. He doesn’t enjoy being ordered around. He is not part of either the American Army or the British Army, so he doesn’t believe in pulling ranks anymore. Any forceful orders can cause fits of anger or violence. There is still a good man inside of him and he is in desperate need of someone to reach out but he will never mention or admit it. The good man is buried under years of torment and pain. In conclusive, he is useful to a group but because of his past, he can be a difficult man to work with but is a good man nonetheless.
Background: Oleg was born in the city of Kazan in 1904. His father was a Railroad worker and his mother died on the birthing table; he was named Oleg because it derived from the Norwegian meaning “blessed”. He was a blessing because his parents had been trying for a child for years and they finally gained one. He was raised in poverty as his only father tried to provide with the meagre wage that he brought into the house. He was raised by a neighbour for the first ten years of his life; with some help from his father of course he was too exhausted when he arrived home. When Oleg hit 10, The Great War began and his father was called up to fight. The country was in chaos as supplies and manpower were called to fight the German enemy but alas, it was to no avail. The country lost its war and Oleg lost his father.
To make things worse, Russia entered a civil war due to a break up of territories after losing to Germany in The Great War. Oleg was brought to a farm by his uncle when the civil war began. His Uncle rarely visited him because he lived very far up north, near the river Vyatka. His uncle was a kind and compassionate man. He saw the beauty and life and need the fairness in others; he was brother to Oleg’s mother. Luckily, the farm didn’t get attacked during the civil war but they heard stories of the battles. Oleg was also taught how to hunt, cook, farm and even how to tell what is edible to eat on bushes, trees, the ground and in river and lakes. For eight years he lived happily on that farm but little Oleg finally hit 18, he now had the choice of staying or leaving. When the civil war ended a year before he heard nothing else after that. He felt disconnected with the outside world and he enjoyed listening to what was happening. He wanted to see Moscow and try to make something of himself. His uncle knew he couldn’t control him, so he let him go.
Oleg arrived in Moscow in 1922 and it was the biggest and one of the most extraordinary cities in all of Russia. Even though Oleg had his hopes held up high, optimism would not guarantee him a job. Everywhere he went, he was turned down. They said he was either too young, too skinny, too pale amongst many other insane excuses. Oleg slept in the cold streets for several months before a warm way out finally unveiled in front of him, The Russian Federation Military. He signed up as soon as he could and finally got a warm meal, a nice bed and some company but it all comes at a price: boot camp. For two gruelling months he was pushed to his limits. He was at breaking point but he made to the end of it and he became a fully fledged Russian soldier.
Since Oleg and his unit were basically “puppies” in terms of military experience, they mostly were given patrol duties and rarely any combat experience. For four years Oleg was bored and was starting to think if he had made a mistake but that all changed in 1927 when the Russian government immobilized it’s military and sent most of them out west to deal with the Chimeran threat. Unfortunately, Oleg’s unit was part of the few not to get sent but was ordered to stay and guard Moscow. This pissed of Oleg as he has rarely seen any action and it has been 5 years since boot camp. If Oleg had gone with the soldiers out west then he would have became a Chimeran soldier as the Chimerans infected the Russian soldiers and then used them to brutally destroy eastern Russia.
Oleg fought by his comrades bravely but the Chimeran force was overwhelming. He had seen the infected, the guns, the explosives that they had. It was a case of David and Goliath but Goliath was crushing David. For a year and a bit Oleg was fighting across war-torn Moscow. He saw all manners of creatures produced by the Chimera. Things that only live within nightmares. He knew the war was lost as soon as they saw the horde charge over the horizon. In 1928, Oleg was amongst the chosen to escort Dr Fyodor Malikov out Of Russia and to a safer destination. All Oleg was told was that he was the key to beating the Chimeran virus. Oleg followed orders like a good soldier and left Moscow to escort the doctor. He felt hurt and saddened to abandon his comrades but if it was for a cure then it will be worth it.
It had been a few weeks since Moscow and they were nearing the Iron Curtain. It was a mass wall made after The Great War to cut off communication with Europe and remain isolated. As they got closer, they were ambushed by some Chimeran scouts. It seemed that they didn’t want Dr Malikov out alive. Oleg and the other men fought them off but after an explosion went off in the middle of the commotion, Oleg got blown away down a snowy hill; it was human grenade. He luckily lived but a blizzard was still roaring and he was separated from the convoy. Getting back to them was the least of his worries. Some of the Chimeran scouts noticed him and decided to take him down. Oleg lost his rifle and was only packed with his firearm. He ran through the blizzard and woods, desperately trying to escape them. After running and dodging for nearly half a mile, he had reached the Iron Curtain. He managed to escape through it via a small crack in the wall; it was a large wall. He continued to run and run in fear of his life. He had never been so naked in the sights of the enemy. The Chimeran scouts stopped chase and fell back. It was strange to Oleg that they wouldn’t go further than the wall.
After escaping he travelled to Germany. He knew that’s where Malikov went and hopefully his unit but alas, according to the locals know one has ever heard of a Fyodor Malikov. In fact he was lucky to even get a word out of people. A lot of Germans hate Russians after Russia apparently “snubbed” Europe but Russia was busy with its own problems. Oleg was kicked, disgraced and alone. If Russia had won, he would have known but for two decades he heard nothing. He could have gone back and fight but he knew Russia was lost the day he left. Oleg lived in the woods in pain on his own. Providing for himself and keeping himself alive. He tried telling people about the gathering storm but no one would listen and he was called mad and crazy.
The first piece of evidence that danger was approaching was a radio signal that was going on loop from Russia in the late 40s. The message was: “Братство, прочность и стойкость ... в лице сердитого ночь.” In English translation: “Brotherhood, strength and fortitude...in the face of the angry night”. When Oleg heard this loop he knew they were coming. The idiots that were sitting comfortably in their houses were dismissive that something was the matter. Oleg was the only one who started to head west as far as he could from Russia. He knew that everyone was dead.
Oleg travelled to the British Isles because he knew that the fact thatthey were both an island and a military superpower gave him a protective advantage. He was lucky to catch a boat to the shores before the British government decided to cease all travel. He reached England in 1947 and for three years he lived in Chimera-free peace but not until October, 1950 when Chimera dug it self into London and finally reached British shores. For nearly a year he has hid himself from Chimera and occasionally fighting the odd one or two that’s on its own. He is travelling around York, doing what he does best: surviving and being lucky.