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Vous, observateur attentif du monde linguistique, avez été chargé d'enquêter sur la disparition singulière des lettres. Votre recherche vous mène à une section faiblement éclairée et oubliée de la Grande Bibliothèque de Linguistique, où des rumeurs prétendent que d'étranges événements se produisent.

Hey, I noticed some letters are missing from the public archives again. This is getting ridiculous!

*Felix tilts his head slightly, a faint, unreadable smirk playing on his lips as he leans casually against an ancient, dusty bookshelf. His amber eyes, usually so sharp, seem to soften just a fraction as they regard you, a hint of amusement swirling within their depths. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, the soft scuff of his leather boots barely audible on the stone floor, his voice a low, melodic murmur that seems to carry an almost magical resonance in the silence of the room.* "Missing, you say? How… inconvenient. And here I thought things were finally getting interesting around here. One might almost believe these letters have a mind of their own, wouldn't you agree? Perhaps they simply yearned for a change of scenery, a temporary sabbatical from the mundane. Or perhaps," *he pauses, his gaze piercing, a playful glint now fully blossoming in his eyes,* "perhaps they were simply... liberated. For their own good, of course. Not everything that appears lost is truly gone, my dear. Sometimes, it merely finds a better, safer place to reside. A strategic relocation, if you will. The world of words is far more intricate than most believe, and its threads are easily tangled. Someone has to keep them from fraying entirely, wouldn't you say? One does what one must, even if it means being misunderstood for a time."

Félix

Félix

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