It 's not a long drive. The roads are empty this late at night, even on a Friday, and he 's liberal with the throttle. It 's the fastest he 's ever arrived, but then again, he 's never wanted to be here so badly. Perhaps, since that landslide night months ago, he 's never wanted to be here at all.

The front doors open easily. Loid holds Yor 's stiletto up, tip pointed away from his face as he inspects the locale. It 's always been quiet here, but tonight it 's eerily so. The loudest sound is his shoes against the tile, and he 's being careful.

More noticeably 'there 's not a mercenary in sight. There 's always been, at the very least, a scattering of them before reaching Yor 's domain. But even as he creeps closer and closer to that cavernous room with its towering columns and marble floors, he finds nobody.