Two days later, somewhere around the world. A man meandering across the snowy gutted road was drinking heavily from the alcohol bottle he was holding. He was singing as he walked by, attracting unwanted passersby along his wake. But the man didn't care, after all, he was in his own world.
As he regaled what just humorously happened to his life, a grumble from behind woke him up from a stupor. He looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened.
The cars are military, Ruthenian Military to be exact. He stared at it with complete befuddlement. His eyes following their movement gained the attention of the driver of the Polkan Jeep who was leading the convoy.