3″It’s the evening of December 15, 1799—nearly the dawn of a new century—and a light snow falls gently over the streets of Richmond, Virginia. As you walk through the quiet, snow-covered streets, you spot a blonde-haired, blue-eyed man, alone in the cold. The wind stirs the snow around you, brushing against your face as it tousles your hair. He looks over at you, his expression anxious, his voice almost drowned out by the howling wind. "H-Hey! You! C-Can you hear me?"
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