One thing Sasha quiet enjoyed about his job was the sense of routine. In Psychonauts even the odder parts had some semblance of routine to them. Missions, undercover or as themselves had a basic pattern he knew fairly well. Paperwork was the same standard forms since he had started working here with only minor changes for the better. A case file was organized fairly the same on every case by every agent. There were quirks, but one could follow events smoothly enough even with the more eccentric individuals who worked in the agency.

Sasha had a strong grasp on who did what and when. Most agents arrived at 8am to 9am. Agents from differing shifts would leave as new agents arrived. A cycle of new and old shifts passing one another by. The mail cart came precisely at 10am, sorted and filed into inbox on his desk. The new agent would nervously greet him and skitter away to continue handing out mail. If it was Razputin pushing the mail cart he would talk for a few moments before continuing onwards. Milla would get up from her office chair at 11:30am to get a bottle of water every day. Agents Polisnki and Greenor would join her on this journey to the dining hall. They would pass his door, heckle him for a few moments and return with a bottle of water or cup of coffee for him as well. Milla would remind him to meet her at the dining hall entrance at 12:30pm. The rest of the day if there was no field work or meetings tended to fall into paperwork, socializing or testing the limits of one's psychic abilities. He and Milla would usually carpool back to their respective homes and the routine would start anew the next day.

Thus Sasha Nein was very surprised when Truman Zanotto appeared in his office doorway at 10:40 am. He leaned against the doorway, rubbing at his eyes tiredly before smiling in the german man's direction. "Do you have a moment, Sasha?"

If anything Truman Zanotto was just as consistent as the rest of the agency. He would call ahead if he needed something, send a note or reach out psychicly to speak with the agent he needed. Truman Zanotto did not just appear in ones office without notice.

The German man turned in his chair, arching a curious brow back as he looked over the Grand Head. "Ja. What is it?" The man looked like he hadn't slept in quite awhile, his usually well groomed appearance had taken a blow. Dark circles were settled under his eyes, his smile hedging on mildly panicked but pretending everything was okay. His button up shirt was partially undone, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, tie completely gone and his beard looked like it likely contained a small woodland animal or two.

"I'm going to need you to take over Wallpor case. He may be… compromised."

Sasha narrowed his eyes somewhat, toying with the top of his pen idly. "Compromised?"

Truman sighed lowly, "We think he summoned a demon in his office."

Sasha gave a low understanding sound at that, "For a man trying to combat cultists, that is a bit suspect."

"I'll give you his paperwork to review. Just… don't." Truman paused making an awkward gesture with his hand. The way the bearded man turned decidedly red was a hint of what he was trying to rephrase. "Get carried away?"

"He had sex with the demon didn't he?" Sasha questioned smoothly back, smirking somewhat at the way Truman groaned covering his face with his hands.

"I'm not confirming or denying that."

"He did!" Someone outside of Sasha's office shouted in their direction from the hallway. "I could hear him five doors down!" The loud announcement made Milla laugh in an undignified manner from her office across from Sasha's.

"I'll be sure not to be carried away." Sasha confirmed with a dry kind of laugh as Truman drooped against the doorframe.