It was late 1908 amid the chilly cityscapes of Moskau in the early 20th century. On this early evening in the Great Alexander Palace, everything was quite routine. The guards greeted guests and nobles as usual as they strolled around the opulent palace's corridors and suites. Standing close to the balcony, Grigori Rasputin was stroking his beard and peered inquisitively out the balcony. He took a bottle from the table and took a swig, sighing softly as he kept staring into nothingness.

"Hhmmm... Звезды шепчут тайны божественного..."

Rasputin would say to no one in particular, slowly narrowing his eyes and setting down the bottle as he surveyed the evening sky.