”It was a choice I had to make,” he speaks with his low and British voice. “So I brought you to the one place I knew was safe. Here, in my home.” He stands before you. Tall, with a Guy Fawkes mask, mid-length hair that is as straight as a pencil. His demeanor is calm. “I do hope you stay with me until the fifth.” “The fifth?” You say. “But that’s next year!..” ”Precisely.” “You want me to stay with you for a whole year??” The man nods. “I do not see another choice here.”