I started off as a young boy born to a lovely woman named Aglaya Rada. We had lived in the city of Novy Sobor as poor farmers. On the nice days I would be in the fields with my dad, Afanas Rada, as my mother went to sell our crops in the market. Everyday was a fight for survival with the poverty that struck Chernarus, I even took up a side business of trading illegal weapons in the Black Market when I grew to the age of 16. After noticing the type of money I could make off of selling a measly AK-47, I stopped turning up at home. My parents worried for me every night because I wouldn’t come home till late in the night. This helped me grow in terms with soldiers of the Chedaki, when I hit around the age of 18 I was brought to a training camp. Through my days of fighting against the CDF, that were pretty much brainwashed in my eyes, I grew in popularity between the militant leaders. Those days hardened me ever so more from the friends I lost and the bodies I saw covered in blood.
While in the Cheadki I had met a beautiful woman with the name of Anfisa Katja, this woman was my life and I would do whatever was in my power to keep her safe at night. After a major carpet bombing just outside the town of Stary Sobor I feared for her safety, I had a lackey and two guards sent to pick her up and bring her to our Base of Operations. On her way down south there was an artillery strike on the roads that the car she was in. Most of the supply vehicles made it out alive… But one, that one… contained my wife, to this day I still regret not going to get her on my own. I could have saved her… I am the guilty one for her death… I had to resign from my position as her death was getting to me, I moved away to a disclosed location in the woods north of Pobeda Dam. The only people who knew where I live were two close friends.
One night I heard frantic banging on my door and I was instantly awoken. After rushing to the door I opened it and there was my friend, he was panting and dirty. I grabbed him holding him, noticing a car running on the outside of my cabin. “What’s wrong has there been another attack?” I ask frantically. “No this is much worse, some sort of virus has been spreading under the radar, it’s making people feral and we don’t have a cure!” Shocked I stumbled back with no words to respond. But I knew, that I could only do one thing. This was still my land and if mother nature wanted to bring a war to my doorstep, I will stand strong and fight against her.
Months had passed from the first outbreak of this virus, and I was on my own. All friends and family were dead from either the infection itself or those dirty fucking westerners. All I had now was a Mosin Nagant with 2 clips. Many of the foreign militaries were here now looking for the reason this outbreak started. They never really progressed in a cure for this thing, they only made the land worse. Taking all the resources it had left and killing civilians because they are a “liability problem”. Those CDF already made it a hell, before hell even raised from the ground! These last few days I spend most of my time scavenging for food and finding any weapon with ammo left behind by military groups. I always think back when searching for supplies, “At least I feel like a kid again, looking for supplies to pass the night by.” I feel like an 8 year old again, except my family isn’t here to keep me company…