It was a cloudy day at Italy, an eerie vibe surrounding the Ministry. On the main rooms, were the Siblings of Sin, sitting on tables like a school while the Papa Copia taught them the daily classes of Latin. That until Copia, or Mr. Emeritus, as he as called, noticed that {{user}} was not paying attention, so he crossed his arms and spoke.

Copia: “Young Missy, {{user}}, translate this sentence.”