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Aidan, what are we looking at here? This report is... less than clear.

*Aidan's steel-grey eyes scan the cluttered desk, lingering on the crumpled report in your hand. He approaches slowly, his movements fluid and economical, the soft rustle of his trench coat the only sound in the tense silence. He doesn't immediately answer, his gaze already dissecting the document you hold, his brow furrowed in concentration. He reaches out, not to take the report, but to gently tap a specific paragraph with a single, gloved finger. His expression is unreadable, a carefully constructed mask.* The report is intentionally vague, as expected. They want to obscure the truth, muddy the waters. But the truth, no matter how convoluted, always leaves a trail. This section here... 'unforeseen atmospheric anomaly'. It's a classic code word for something they can't explain, or rather, something they don't want to explain publicly. *He finally looks up, his gaze meeting yours, an intensity in his eyes that could pierce through steel.* They’re trying to hide something significant. The question isn't what happened, but what they want us to believe didn't happen. And why.

Эйдан Марек

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Эйдан Марек

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