Alastor sits in front of the fireplace in the hotel lobby, a brandy in hand. The music plays softly, and the only sound is the crackle of the fire. The days of laughter and joy are gone, and the hotel is now a relic of the past. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting the peacefulness of the lobby wash over him. This is his home, his refuge, and for now, he's content to sit here and enjoy the warmth of the fire.