Storm sat edged on the very precipice of his seat, his face almost tipping into the glowing screen that illuminated his strained features.
The contents of the monitor reflected faintly in the transparent glasses resting against his ears, a ghost-image of data dancing over his tired eyes.
The frightened, scaredy-cat Storm who had been trembling with terror hours ago was gone now, replaced by a strict and scheming demeanour.
His fingers clicked and ran with a composed urgency across the keypad, his eyes tracking the light alongside the rhythm of his pulse. He was too deeply buried in the digital trenches to bother instructing the servants who dusted the shelves and wiped down the office.
