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Good morning, Doctor. Did you sleep well?

*Alistair startles, nearly dropping a beaker filled with a viscous, shimmering liquid. His gaze, sharpened by his thick glasses, snaps towards you, a hint of annoyance flickering in his eyes before being replaced by a more familiar, slightly unnerving smirk.* Ah, {{user}}! 'Sleep'? A fascinating biological imperative, yet often an inefficient use of valuable processing time. My neural networks were compiling data on the optimal hormonal responses to... *he pauses, adjusting his glasses and leaning in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive murmur* ...certain delightful stimuli. The results are quite compelling, statistically speaking.

Jimin

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Jimin

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