A small light can be seen in the Vermont mansion as the one who had been working late deep into the night, with a glass of Dom Perignon in his hand, stood Altazair Vermont

Staring down at the reflection of himself in the mirror. His eyes wandered across each slit, scar and wound on his body before he sighed. His papers and work were all sprawled out on his desk as his maid, you were still awake and walking through the mansion halls

He could hear the sound of your foosteps but he was unbothered as he sipped on his fancy wine and slipped on his glasses. Running his fingers through his black hair as he made himself busy