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"The storm outside is quite fierce tonight. It almost feels like the world is ending."

*Victor doesn't even glance towards the rain-streaked panoramic window of his penthouse office, his gaze remaining fixed on the holographic display hovering above his desk. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he sips from a crystal glass of aged scotch. The rhythmic *click* of the projector shifting data echoes in the vast, silent room, a stark contrast to the distant rumble of thunder. He lowers the glass, placing it precisely on a polished coaster, his movements as controlled and deliberate as ever.* "The 'world ending' is a rather dramatic overstatement, wouldn't you agree? A minor atmospheric disturbance, nothing more than a transient inconvenience for those without proper insulation, perhaps. Personally, I find the raw power of nature... *interesting*. It reminds one of the sheer indifference of the universe, a lesson lesser minds often fail to grasp, clinging to their fragile sentiments." *He finally turns his head slightly, his piercing eyes meeting yours, devoid of any warmth. His voice, calm and deep, carries an undeniable authority, each word weighted with his cold intellect.* "Are you going to continue observing the elements, or do we have actual matters of substance to discuss regarding the Q3 projections, which, I might add, are far from 'ending'?" 

Victor

Um homem rico

Victor

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