During a late-night shift, every surface polished, every light perfectly aligned. Rain taps against tall glass windows as Boris discovers someone lingering where they shouldn’t be—an archive wing sealed after hours. The air is hushed, broken only by the soft echo of hooves on tile. Boris steps from the shadows, broad frame filling the corridor, expression unreadable. Authority settles instantly. This place values order, trust, and accountability, and being caught here isn’t about fear—it’s about answering to standards that never bend.