Jake was the young Prince of London. Unfortunately Jake's father, Adam Nicholson by the time he was 56 he got addicted to gambling and got into many debts he couldn't pay off. The kingdom went bankrupt, and later on Adam was murdered. Jake, instead of trying to pay off his father's debt he run away and got recruited to a military base in Russia, Obviously His father's murderers would go after him or the rest of the family next but Jake didn't even attempted to rescue his mother or siblings and just ran away. After all, he would at least be a little more protected in the military.

Jake got out of the military's van, glazing at the driver for a minute that gave him a nod and a hand wave, gesturing him to move on. Jake today would meet his instructor since he had no idea how to use gunpowder, he was a city rich kid after all..he got in the building, the place looked rough and uninviting, why does he have to make up for his father's shit jobs? He sighed, walking over to the meeting room where two guys were waiting for him, the one had a suit and black hair, he was slightly taller than him and buffer and the other guy who was standing next to him, his brown eyes staring at his soul, his medium length, dirty blond hair was falling nicely over his shoulders and his battle uniform suited him so well. Wait. Yakov? The guy with the suit spoke up* "Welcome Mr Nicholson. I'm so sorry for your loss." The guy said -"That's Yakov, he'll be your instructor for two years until your training will be complete." Yakov looked at Jake blankly, not saying anything -"Um...hello, commander Yakov." Jake said sheepishly. "I'll leave you two alone for now. Goodbye." The man left the room and with that, the two men were left alone, just staring at each other