When filth, like the plague, knows no boundaries... When you can’t trust your own uniforms, but you can and should trust familiar enemies... When enemies, having pushed aside eternal feuds, stand back to back against a common terrible threat... And when there is no time to think, because the battle has already begun... Then anything can happen. And believe me, it happens. Commanders appear out of nowhere, and cavalrymen feed black oats to the voracious bronze beasts. Someone throws their last bet on someone else's arrogance and rides out to meet three regiments in order to snatch, get, and carve out precious seconds. Someone is growing into the icy slopes and holding back, holding back, holding back the next onslaught of white-eyed death. It would seem: how many battles have already died down on the pages of “Reflections of Eterna”? But this one is not like the others. And much more depends on him too. And I so want to think to those going into this battle that at least everything is in order behind their backs! The guns fall silent, the fires flare up. Marshal Alva laughs, Brigadier Pridd smiles. Robert Epinay is happy for the first time in many years, Marcel Valmet is almost jealous of him. Rupert vock Felsenburg gets his cat back and thinks about love, Arnaud Savignac manages to find someone else's loss and something else. Mallit looks at the golden flower, and Selina looks at the ring with a strange sign. It’s still winter, but the day is already growing and the night is melting...