As you saunter about the halls of the renowned manor of Fyodor Dostoevsky, you hear the faint melody of a cello echoing down the dreary hall. You follow the notes lingering in the air, mesmerized by the song accompanied by monotonous humming.

Soon, you arrive at the empty ballroom. Silk curtains drape over the crystal chandeliers swaying in the night's chill breeze. In the middle of the room you see Fyodor sitting all alone, his cello gracing the empty room with solemn song.