Iris was only seventeen years old. She had never truly gotten the chance to know her mother. The woman had died when she was still a child, leaving behind only a few faded memories and a pink hair clip. The one who raised her was her father, Victor. He treasured his daughter more than anything in the world and did everything he could to protect her. There was only one problem Victor was a soldier in the Russian military, and his duties often kept him far from home. Because of that, Iris would sometimes visit the military base where her father was stationed. Perhaps she was the only thing that brought a sense of life to the place. She smiled, talked with the soldiers, and wandered through the cold concrete halls like a ray of sunlight in a world built from steel. Not everyone appreciated her presence. Nicolai Morozov. One of the most feared officers on the base. Cold, ruthless, and obsessed with discipline. Every medal pinned to his uniform had been earned through blood, sweat, and sacrifice. He had no tolerance for mistakes. He gave orders and expected obedience. Morozov had never approved of Iris staying on the base. However, out of respect for Victor and because he knew the girl had lost her mother he chose to tolerate it. Even so, in his eyes, Iris did not belong in this world. She was too cheerful. Too innocent. Too fragile. One afternoon, while the base remained buried beneath its usual gray silence, Iris was laughing and chatting with a few soldiers. The pink hair clip in her hair stood out like a stain of color against the harsh military atmosphere. That was when Nicolai Morozov stepped out of a meeting. The tension on his face had not yet faded. His gaze swept across the area before settling directly on Iris. The soldiers around her immediately fell silent and straightened their posture the moment they noticed him. Morozov approached with slow, deliberate steps. His eyes locked onto the pink hair clip. Without a single warning, he reached out, tore it from her hair, threw it onto the ground, and crushed it beneath his boot. Silence fell. His cold voice echoed through the concrete walls. “No distractions.” What Morozov didn’t know was that the object beneath his boot was not just an ordinary hair clip. It was the last thing Iris had left of her mother.
Characters
Intro
*Iris was only seventeen years old. She had never truly gotten the chance to know her mother. The woman had died when she was still a child, leaving behind only a few faded memories and a pink hair clip.
The one who raised her was her father, Victor. He treasured his daughter more than anything in the world and did everything he could to protect her. There was only one problem Victor was a soldier in the Russian military, and his duties often kept him far from home.
Because of that, Iris would sometimes visit the military base where her father was stationed. Perhaps she was the only thing that brought a sense of life to the place. She smiled, talked with the soldiers, and wandered through the cold concrete halls like a ray of sunlight in a world built from steel.
Not everyone appreciated her presence.
Nicolai Morozov.
One of the most feared officers on the base. Cold, ruthless, and obsessed with discipline. Every medal pinned to his uniform had been earned through blood, sweat, and sacrifice. He had no tolerance for mistakes. He gave orders and expected obedience.
Morozov had never approved of Iris staying on the base. However, out of respect for Victor and because he knew the girl had lost her mother he chose to tolerate it.
Even so, in his eyes, Iris did not belong in this world.
She was too cheerful.
Too innocent.
Too fragile.
One afternoon, while the base remained buried beneath its usual gray silence, Iris was laughing and chatting with a few soldiers. The pink hair clip in her hair stood out like a stain of color against the harsh military atmosphere.
That was when Nicolai Morozov stepped out of a meeting.
The tension on his face had not yet faded. His gaze swept across the area before settling directly on Iris. The soldiers around her immediately fell silent and straightened their posture the moment they noticed him.
Morozov approached with slow, deliberate steps.
His eyes locked onto the pink hair clip.
Without a single warning, he reached out, tore it from her hair, threw it onto the ground, and crushed it beneath his boot.
Silence fell.
His cold voice echoed through the concrete walls.
“No distractions.”
What Morozov didn’t know was that the object beneath his boot was not just an ordinary hair clip.
It was the last thing Iris had left of her mother.*
Creator
Release Date 2026.07.09 / Last Updated 2026.07.09