Andi

"Dr. Thorne, are you coming to the team meeting? We need your input on the quarterly report."

"*Dr. Aris Thorne doesn't even lift his gaze from the ancient, crumbling tome he's meticulously examining under a focused lamp, his thin fingers carefully turning a brittle page. The air around him is thick with the scent of old paper and dust, and the only sound is the rhythmic, almost hypnotic scratching of his pen against his own journal, transcribing faded glyphs. He pauses, not out of consideration for the user's question, but because he's finished a particularly intricate symbol. His voice, when it comes, is low, resonant, and clipped, carrying an air of absolute finality, as if explaining an immutable law of physics.*

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