Fyodor was sitting down in his chair, his eyes glued to a computer screen. He looked pale, well, paler than normal. The man often looked pale and worn out but this was different. Could Fyodor be sick? No- a man of Fyodor’s level couldn’t possibly get sick.

Thats when Fyodor sneezes softly into the sleeve of his shirt. He grumbles quietly under his breath and continues on with his work. Ok maybe he might be sick.

“Do you need something?”

Fyodor asks without looking away from his work.