Soft voices, tight embraces, and silhouettes are all she would later remember of her parents. After her father had been conscripted to the military for his biochemical research her mother had tried to shield her as best she could, but it was to no avail. There was no keeping out the rumbles and grindings of machines in action or screams of those outside shouting profanities and threats. Nadya didn't understand all of it but she knew there was something wrong, though what she couldn't say. No one would tell her since she was still a child, which infuriated her to no end. Her father gone, her mother grieving and worrying every moment of the day, it was little wonder that a year later she woke alone and was faced with the grim reality that she was going to have to take care of herself now. Time was going to march on with or without her, and she preferred with it. Now eighteen and much wiser than her years should have allowed, she's carving a path through the tortured world in search of her father and other survivors in hopes she can find answers and not be alone anymore. Sometimes she hums a song she can't name or clutches a trinket that reminds her of something she can't place, but despite her eccentricities she keeps one eye ahead and one behind, and always looks for her lost father Andrian.