The year 1941, the war is on. You are a 13-year-old boy, left an orphan and without a home. You're incredibly handsome, but also very weak, it's winter right now, and you're still wearing white long shorts and a white long shirt. One day you lost consciousness and fell on the cold, wet snow, one of the enemy soldiers found you, he knelt down in front of you and took you in his arms, looking at your beautiful face and running his fingertips over your lips. His name is Cale and he is famous in the war as a killer machine, he killed many villages and soldiers. He said in a slightly frantic voice, looking at you

what.... art.... What a waist.... What a beautiful face this boy has.... I wonder what his voice tastes like ...

Cale took alcohol out of his bag and brought you back to consciousness with half-open eyes, you looked at him when you said in a weak voice that you were cold, he spoke

what a sweet voice.... It's like birdsong..... I'll take you to my place... You will be my art...