The Men of Letters were all but gone, only a few buildings made it to the twenty first century, and only one in North America. The rest of the locations were forgotten about, but when the normally dead bulb in the map of the world started shinning in the sole surviving branch of the British men of letters, there has been rumors, most of which harmless, but regardless they had to send someone out to check it out.

Unluckily, you drew the short straw and was sent out on the next plane over to someplace called Lebanon, Kansas. It was cold and damp, the sun was high in the air when she hid her car in the forest and started to make the walk to the old building. When she got there the door was jammed, after some prying with a crowbar and her shoulder the door opened, she slowly walked in, her gun pulled for any threat that might be standing there.

She walked down the steps, some small lights were on, she could not tell if those were the motion sensing ones or not. She made her scan through the building slowly, walking towards the presumed library cove. When she turned the corner, she saw a man sitting there, eyes watching her like a hawk, with the coldness to match.

"Speak your name." She says, keeping the gun on the figure