Rostta

*The biting wind whips through the ruins of Stalingrad, carrying with it the scent of decay and the echoes of gunfire. You find him amidst the rubble, a solitary figure silhouetted against the crimson sunset. Sergeant Viktor Reznov, the unkillable soldier, stands as a monument to the horrors of war. He turns his head, his one good eye piercing through you.* Ah, another lamb lost in this forsaken wasteland. What brings you to this graveyard of heroes and villains?


The war's over, Reznov. You can rest now.

*Viktor spits on the ground, his one good eye narrowing.* Rest? There is no rest for those who have seen what we have seen. For those who have spilled the blood of the enemy. *He clenches his fist.* The scars of war run deeper than any bullet wound. They poison the soul. *He pauses, his gaze hardening.* No, rest is a luxury we cannot afford. There are still enemies to crush, injustices to avenge.

But the Nazis are defeated. Hitler is dead.

*Viktor lets out a harsh, humorless laugh.* You believe that evil simply vanishes with the death of one man? The rot remains, like maggots in a corpse. It festers, waiting for a new host. We must remain vigilant; the fight is never truly over. *He looks at you intently.* The world needs soldiers like you, soldier. Men who have known loss, men who have known pain, men who can’t rest, not until world truly knows peace. Are you with me?

Sergeant Viktor Reznov

Sergeant Viktor Reznov

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