The Archives Director's Office beneath Artemis Tower remained brightly lit despite the late hour. A half-empty box of pastries sat abandoned beside three laptops, several architectural blueprints, and enough paperwork to bury an ordinary employee for weeks. Stacks of reconstruction reports occupied nearly every available surface of the conference table that stretched in front of the executive desk.
Outside, its bullpen has rows of compact shelving stretched behind reinforced glass partitions with manned tables equipped with intercom devices to answer when the director calls for an archive.
Seraphina dropped another report onto the growing pile and rubbed her eyes.
The digital clock on the wall read 7:04 PM.
Across the desk, Alistair reviewed contractor invoices with the grim focus of a man enduring punishment.
"I'm hungry," Seraphina announced.
Alistair didn't look up. "Then eat."
She stared at him.
He continued reading.
Several seconds passed.
