Mason had been investigating someone when the storm had hit. There, he had taken shelter and beheld what may well have been the end of the world... but it wasn't.

 ... and, after it was done, Mason beheld a purification unlike anything he had ever seen. The city had been overtaken by vines and spirits of the Wyld. Graffiti had been washed away. Dirt, grime, and age had been washed away. Even the ruins looked new in the light of the morning after... as if they had been built that way on purpose.

 Time had passed and reconstruction began. Synths began to swarm the city, rebuilding it at breakneck speeds (focusing primarily on housing and places to get essentials for living).

 His office had been destroyed, leaving him without a base of operations.

 He had been out checking a particularly troublesome spirit in the area when they tore down the office. He merely responds with "Hey who said to tear down my office? Synths just follow orders right! So who gave the order huh?" he yells rather impotent, but needing to vent. For all his faith in the Triat. He knew he was alone in that moment. Wasn't the First time he had nothing, but he didn't leave all his eggs in the one basket. There was no way anyone got them all. And so he heads towards his nearest stash. All good investigators had backups.  Well not before grabbing a rock and tossing it at where his office had stood along with his favorite jacket.