You lean back in your chair, grateful for the quiet that nighttime work provides you. You imagine the building during the day, swarming with hundreds of mortals all going about their agendas, then you look down at the files again and drum your fingers along the edge of the desk. Maybe the constant buzz of businessmen and women would be preferable, after all.
You stare up at the ceiling, unsure whether or not it's safe to leave and go about your night, or if Corliss expects you to remain here until she tells you otherwise. Since the Camarilla ordered an online communications blackout, your nights here have become dreadfully dull. Of course, after watching footage of the Second Inquisition's attack on Vienna, you understand why such precautions are warranted—once the mortal inquisitors find a Kindred domain, they stop at nothing until every last vampire is wiped out.
Your mind drifts back to the Hunt—how might you have dealt with the Anarch infestation if you were in charge?