The borderlands are harsh, snow-covered lands torn out of our world. Most of the year there is bitter cold; only in May does the long-awaited warmth come. But spring thaw is deceptive: by day, snowdrifts soften, and when the sun sets they’re covered with a crust of ice—and so are the smiles and promises. People don’t change. Those who have grown used to killing through long winters will shoot you in the back without the slightest hesitation at any time of year—only a pretext is needed.
And a pretext exists. The map that fell into the hands of Nikolai Gordeev and Vyacheslav Khmelev hides a secret that turns into a real hunt. What should they do about it: try to handle everything alone, or bring a new player over to their side? The answer is far from obvious.