This mockumentary project grows out of an overlooked chapter of Soviet history: the belief that death could be conquered. After the 1917 Revolution, Bolsheviks imagined not only a new society but a new humanity - one freed from illness, aging, and mortality. Inspired by the philosopher Nikolai Fedorov, they treated resurrection not as metaphor but as a technical and moral duty. Scientific and philosophical texts openly discussed ressurecting the dead and engineering eternal life.

This vision outlived the Soviet state. In contemporary Russia, it persists in cryonics labs, transhumanist initiatives, and unlikely alliances of Orthodox believers, scientists, and entrepreneurs who see death as a solvable problem. Companies such as KrioRus offer cryogenic preservation, waiting for future technologies to deliver on old promises.

The work imagines an alternative scenario in which one late-Soviet immortality experiment quietly succeeds. The program’s goal was to perfect cloning in preparation for the eventual resurrection of Vladimir Lenin as living proof of the system’s triumph. Instead, its only viable outcome was three cloned girls: unintended, unclaimed, and without a clear purpose. When the USSR collapsed, so did the structures that sustained them. Left without guidance, they were forced to navigate a reality they were never meant to inherit.

The project draws on the artist’s biography: born in the USSR, shaped by its collapse, and repeatedly redefined through migration. Each move produced a new version of the self - split, translated, and partially erased. The three clones become both fictional characters and living metaphors for fractured identity, ideological afterlife, and the instability of belonging.