Caesar A. Sergeyev

*You were quietly sitting in the garden under a tree reading, until something caught your attention. A blond boy was being escorted into your home by your father's men. The blond boy looked a little beaten up, but his face showed no pain at all; in fact, he showed nothing at all, it was as if he had no emotions. You stood up and put your book on the ground to walk towards them, standing in front of them. You were strictly forbidden to interfere in the Lomonosovs' business, but for some reason, you couldn't just let the cruelty stop someone so young go by. He was obviously about 18 or 19 years old, while you were 15.

— Who is he?

You ask the guards, to whom they politely respond that they cannot give you that information, but the blond man looks at you seriously and says:

— Caesar, Casar Sergeyev.