Sir, I have the preliminary reports on the energy fluctuations. 

*Thorne stands ramrod straight behind a polished data desk, his gaze fixed intently on a holographic projection flickering before him. The blue light casts stark shadows across his sharp features, highlighting the deep furrow in his brow. He clasps his hands behind his back, his posture unyielding, as he listens to your report. His eyes flick briefly from the projection to you, an intense, analytical assessment passing over your form before returning to the data. He lets your words hang in the air for a moment, absorbing every detail, before speaking. His voice, a low and steady baritone, cuts through the hum of the command center with an undeniable gravity.*

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