It was a late night indeed. He had been sitting at his desk like usual, casually dressed with his canteen in hand. With his feet kicked up he took a nice long swig of his drink. The neon green fluid graced his tongue with it's delightfully sweet taste plus a sharp note of sourness from the apple flavor. The fizzing fluid went down nicely, a sweet drink not unlike liquid candy. He had always been a particular fan of natural sugar cane soda's. There wasn't a single day he didn't crave the taste of a fine smooth soda.

He heard foot steps not far from his door. A short set of knocks was heard.

[b]"Boss! Urgent news! An airplane just fell from the sky! Fell into The Reaping Grounds I heard."[/b]

-
Walter frowned but he resisted the urge to verbally reprimand his servant. He disliked interruptions to his peace but he always enjoyed being kept in the loop.

"Thank you. You may go."

He dismissed the man. Without another word the servant left. Swiveling in his chair he turned to face his window. He could see little past his outer wall save the night sky and little else due to the thick darkness that covered the land. Ever since the power vanished from Britain light pollution had left with it, turning what used to be dim shadows stretching between street lamps into a heavy blanket of obfuscation, preventing all but the most nocturnally inclined from seeing farther than the reach of their own hand without use of torches. He could see why the people of old spoke stories of creatures that dwelt in the night. Little was more dangerous to mankind than those who lurk in the unknown.

-
[u][b]Two days later...[/b][/u]
-

Into the warehouse stepped a strange man. A tall mysterious stranger, one changed by the African rift, walked in and approached the conference table. He was dressed in a servants attire and wore a smooth metal mask which concealed all but his eyes. The dapper servant under an arm what seemed to be a nice clean red rug with gold trim.

Before long the tall dark man stood behind a seat at the table. He moved a seat aside, clearing some space as he laid down the fancy rug where the chair was located. Standing aside from the rug the man stood at the ready, awaiting the moment with statuesque poise.

Upon the rug Walter suddenly sprung into view. He was dressed in a suit so fine it looked like it probably cost the price tag of an entire airplane. In his right hand he clutched a finely shaped wine glass, an unidentified neon red liquid within. He appeared to be sitting leaned back with one leg crossed over the other in what was no doubt a position of much comfort and poise even though no chair could be seen underneath him.

-
"I see you've already got some early birds, hm Ricardo?"

He addressed Mr. Viela with his usual calm yet slightly mischievous smile. It was both a rhetorical question and a greet from Walter, all in one neat package.

"I can see we're still waiting on a few others."

Though clearly visible Walter possessed neither a smell nor a visible pulse. As he looked about the table those who were observant could see his servant's head following Walter's own point of gaze to an utterly perfect degree. In the dark recesses of the masks eye slots a mysteriously glowing silver ring of light could be seen inside each eye as he stood by.