It all began in late 19th century Russia. A child was born, among a noble family that has since disappeared, boasting an intellect that was above that of the average man. His upbringing was strict, and his parents stern: a path had been laid out in front of him from the moment his talets had been discovered. Not that he minded. He was to become a doctor. He studied hard and long, but before he could complete his training, tragedy struck: the archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated in Sarajevo: the First World War began. He was immediately drafted, was assigned the role of field medic, and he was stationed in the fortress of Osowiec, in what would today be north-eastern Poland.

The day is the 6th of August 1915. The german forces have been laying siege to the fortress of Osowiec since the first days of July. They wait until 4:00 AM, when the wind favors an artillery bombardment of chlorine gas. The gas rendered the grass black and the leaves yellow; birds, frogs, insects and other dead animals laid dead all around. It was hell on earth. Many succumbed to this gas... and so did Grischa, who was a medic stationed at the fortress. However, the will to survive in him, and a handful of others, was strong that day. Be it because of a conjunction in the stars or some other occult phenomenon, the dead rose from their graves. The 7000 german soldiers marched onto the fortress, expecing little resistance. They were sorely mistaken.

Grischa collapsed after the battle; he woke up after months. He was entombed in a wooden coffin, six feet under the earth. He tried desperately to claw his way out of his prison, and in doing so discovered that he had been gifted with newfound physical prowess... however, the experience proved traumatic, and he also soon came to learn that the chlorine gas did not leave him unharmed. His lungs had been ravaged, his face singed and disfigured, and he had been robbed of the dexterity he once used to possess. He was doomed to never use a scalpel again. After some days, weeks or perhaps months of aimless wandering among desolate battlefields, he was able to find his way back to civilization...

Grischa was never one attached to sentimental values, nor to notions of an intrinsic value to human life. However, he was attached to one thing in particuar: tradition. Ever since he's been born, the importance of tradition has taken center stage in his life, from his childhood, to his family environment, to his education and to the war. That's precisely why witnessing the Russian Revolution in 1918 made his blood boil. One thing he came to discover as time passed, was that his aging had been significantly slowed. He has been a silent spectator to the rise and fall of figures such as Lenin and Stalin and yet, even beyond the fall of the Soviet Union, he knows vestiges of the Communist movement remain, and he is determined to prune them. However he is not stupid, and knows that a brute strength approach will likely get him killed: he is biding his time, waiting to gain powerful connections.