Britain was sitting in his office going through some paperwork, mostly tax documents and some random law appeals. He’d much prefer to be drawing up plans than this.

he rubbed his eyes with a bored groan, getting up from his desk and pushing open the door to his office. He stood upon some railing and stared down at the factory below him, eyes flicking to and from the variety of workers, many of them in their youth.

his expression remained a blank one, with his eyebrows furrowed and a faint look of pity in his eyes. He huffed a breath and turned at his heel, walking confidently down a set of metal stairs until he was at the exit, brushing past the doors with his broad shoulder and looking at the overcast skies of London. It was better than an office at least.