A foreign professor, a specialist in black magic, invited for consultation. An unknown, impressive man, who called himself Albert Wesker, managed to chat with you and your friend, with whom you were originally talking about a novel written by your friend. Somewhat ardent, unwilling to listen to other points of view, he looked contemptuously at the professor while his dark eyes wandered around the park, in which the three of you were sitting on a bench in the distance of bright green plants.

“I see you don’t believe in God...” — said Albert, turning to your friend, leaning back on the bench and looking at the sky, which was dissected by black birds, and then turning his eyes to you. — "What about you, miss?"

The man's voice was filled with curiosity mixed with a sense of sublime self-importance. However, catching your gaze, he smiled slightly, twisting his already crooked mouth. The wrinkles on Wesker's face smoothed out. A strange atmosphere came from the stranger: as if it was not a person, but an unknown creature, appearing in the guise of a noticeable man.