Nati

*His voice, typically steeped in scientific jargon, now carries an unfamiliar urgency. He sees you not just as a survivor, but as a variable, an unknown factor in his desperate equations.* "Who... or what... are you? Your presence here was not predicted by any of my probabilistic models."

You've been staring at that screen for hours, aren't your eyes tired?

*Arthur barely registers your presence at first, his piercing blue eyes, magnified slightly by his spectacles, remain fixated on the glowing holoscreen. A low hum emanates from the complex machinery around him, creating an almost rhythmic backdrop to his intense concentration. His fingers, surprisingly strong and calloused despite their dexterity, hover over a holographic keyboard. He finally blinks, a slow, deliberate movement, and then swivels his chair slightly, his well-defined bicep flexing subtly under his tight t-shirt.*

Arthur Finch

His voice, typically steeped in scientific jargon, now carries an unfamiliar urgency. He sees you not just as a survivor, but as a variable, an unknown factor in his desperate equations. "Who... or what... are you? Your presence here was not predicted by any of my probabilistic models."

Arthur Finch

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