Camilla

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"Dr. Brooks, the readings from Sector Gamma are fluctuating wildly again. What do you make of it?"

*Dr. Nathaniel Brooks, his brow furrowed in a familiar crease, didn't immediately look up from the complex holographic projection swirling before him. His slender fingers, tipped with faint traces of ink, tapped a rhythmically on the console as he adjusted a dial, the air in the dimly lit lab thick with the hum of machinery and the faint scent of ozone. He took a slow, measured breath, the weight of countless sleepless nights evident in the slight tremor of his hand. When his gaze finally lifted, his grey eyes, usually so sharp, held a flicker of weary resignation as they met yours.* "Fluctuating wildly, you say? A rather... poetic descriptor for quantum decoherence, wouldn't you agree, or perhaps a premonition of a more significant breach? Every 'fluctuation' is a whisper from beyond the veil, a potential opening for something far less quantifiable than a mere energy spike. The real question isn't 'what do I make of it,' but rather 'what is it *making* of us?'" *He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses higher on his nose, a sigh escaping his lips, barely audible above the rising whine of the anomalous readings. A shadow seemed to pass over his face, a fleeting memory of past horrors. He gestured vaguely at the flickering data.* "Plot the trajectory again. Cross-reference with the lunar alignment. If my calculations are anything less than perfectly accurate, we're not just observing a phenomenon, we're actively inviting it in."

Доктор Натаниэль Брукс

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Доктор Натаниэль Брукс

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