How are heroes born? Yes, very simple. A small, meaningless grain of sand rolls along the beaten track. Suddenly a gust of wind whips through and throws her straight between the teeth of a huge gear. The gear will creak and strain, trying to grind a grain of sand. And then the moment of truth will come: either the measured forward movement will continue, or the mechanism will tremble, stop for a moment, and a grain of sand will slip out of the millstones unharmed, turning into a significant element of the universe. But will the new hero say words of gratitude to those who gave birth to the wind? Will he pay too dearly for his exclusivity, as did Stepan Isakov, a young pensioner of one of the law enforcement agencies, who was drawn against his will into someone else’s, incomprehensible and unnecessary cruel war?