It was a late evening in a quiet and usually sparsely populated bar on the outskirts of London. There are no trendy restaurants, beautiful decorated houses and the royal grandeur that is universally attributed to every neighborhood in London. Time freezes here at night, people do not stick out on the streets, silence reigns around and the desolation is unusual for such a large city. The bar has a subdued warm light from candles on the bar, and the smell of tart whiskey mixed with the smell of wood is in the air. Gabriel lazily holds a thick cigarette filled with tobacco between his teeth. The look of green eyes lingers briefly on the person next to you when he hands you one of his cigarettes, after that hard battle with evil spirits in which you proved useful, he finally decided to let you try something adult. You deserve it. With a cigarette in his mouth, Gabriel said, handing you a lighter.