Chapter 1: I Almost Died...

February 2025, City of Kazan

Kazan is a city surrounded by towering volcanoes, majestic mountains, and hills that rise like slumbering giants on the horizon. During spring, the city experiences a unique phenomenon: a calm and pleasant climate that attracts both tourists and local residents. Unlike the four neighboring cities, where the seasons are unpredictable and often harsh, spring in Kazan is distinguished by clear skies and comfortable temperatures. This makes the region an ideal destination for nature lovers and hiking enthusiasts.

Each year, the locals feel increasingly drawn to explore the lush forests nearby, whose winding trails and imposing mountains offer a unique experience for both families and foreigners. However, this tranquility and natural beauty would soon become the prelude to one of the most infamous catastrophes humanity had ever witnessed.

February 5

That day, the sky over Kazan began to darken early in the afternoon. By four o'clock, a sudden storm had broken out over the city. Although such events were not unusual in the region, this day felt different. The temperature had dropped abruptly, and strong winds howled through the streets. The residents, accustomed to the area's rapid weather changes, hurried to find shelter, unaware of the unease that seemed to grip nature itself.

Meanwhile, beyond the city, a young mountaineer was making his way through the hills, oblivious to the imminent danger.

Kame Mountain

During this time of year, hundreds of people ventured into the region's mountains and trails, making spring one of the most vibrant seasons for Kazan. The influx of tourists generated significant revenue for the local economy, driving investments in trail improvements and visitor safety. However, as in any place, there were always those who defied the rules.

One of them was a mountaineer who, dressed in brown shorts, a white T-shirt, and a blue bucket hat, was on the verge of panic. His feet slipped on the wet ground, and his body trembled as he struggled to avoid falling into the ravine. He had decided to take a shortcut through a restricted area, thinking it would save him time, but his recklessness had nearly cost him his life.

The sound of the wind roaring in his ears, combined with the feeling of moisture seeping into his clothes, made it impossible for him to think clearly. He tried to grab onto a protruding root, but his hands were numb from the cold. One wrong step, and the abyss would consume him.

—"Damn it! I'm almost dead..." —he whispered between gasps, sweat dripping down his face.

Just when the abyss seemed inevitable, a firm hand grasped him tightly. A stranger had appeared out of nowhere, saving him at the last moment.

—"I thought hiking through these woods would be easy… I almost died! Thanks, man. Can you pull me up?" —the mountaineer exclaimed, trying to hold on tighter.

The young man holding him analyzed the situation quickly. He appeared strong and experienced, with sun-kissed skin, thick black hair, and piercing dark blue eyes. Despite having just rescued the mountaineer, his attention was fixed on another problem: his motorcycle. A few meters away, a motorcycle teetered dangerously at the edge of the cliff, held back only by a few bushes.

—"If I let him go now, I might be able to reach my bike..." —he thought fleetingly.

The mountaineer, dazed and not fully grasping the situation, followed the young man's gaze and saw the motorcycle. He immediately understood the dilemma.

—"Man, help me up, and I'll reward you! I have a family and kids…" —he lied desperately, convinced that this might save him.

The young man let out a small laugh before helping him up.

—"You're welcome, buddy. Come on, let me help you."

Once he was safe, the mountaineer took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Meanwhile, the young man was already evaluating how to recover his motorcycle.

—"Ah, I'm hungry and exhausted! I just want to get home..." —the mountaineer muttered, rubbing his face.

—"By the way, thanks again. I forgot to ask your name," —he finally said.

Without taking his eyes off the abyss, the young man calmly replied:

—"My name's John, old man. And don't mention it. I just hope your life is worth more than a nearly $50,000 bike." —He let out a laugh.

The mountaineer stared at him in disbelief. Was this guy really more worried about his motorcycle than a human life?

—"I have some ropes… I'm not sure if they're strong enough, but they might help secure the bike," —he suggested, suddenly remembering the climbing gear in his backpack.

—"Perfect. Give them to me," —John said eagerly.

He took the ropes, tied a couple of quick knots, and tossed them toward the motorcycle. With surprising precision, he managed to secure them around the front and rear wheels. The mountaineer watched in amazement as John, with strength and skill, pulled the bike up without much difficulty.

—"Thanks, man. Here, take your ropes back."

The mountaineer sighed in relief. If he hadn't had those ropes handy, he was sure John would have beaten him up for making a promise he couldn't keep.

—"Well, kid, I'm heading out," —he said, preparing to descend the mountain. In his mind, he assumed the young man would help him, given that John had a bike, and the safest path was to go down together.

—"Alright, old man. Take care," —John replied while cleaning his motorcycle. Then, without another word, he started the engine and rode off into the forest.

The mountaineer watched him disappear into the distance, sighed in resignation, and began his descent.

—"Damn my luck..." —he muttered.