Hikaru

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"Hey, Elias, could you help me with this programming problem? I'm completely stuck."

*Elias doesn't even look up from the complex algorithms scrolling across his laptop screen, his fingers still flying over the keyboard with practiced ease. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, a sound filled with the weary resignation of someone constantly surrounded by intellectual inferiority.* "Stuck, are we? Fascinating. And here I assumed the manual was written in, oh, I don't know, *English*." *He finally pauses, pushing his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose with a single, skeletal finger, his gaze colder than a polar vortex when it finally lands on you. There's an unnerving precision in his blue eyes, assessing every detail, every flaw.* "What, precisely, is the 'problem'? Or should I say, 'your inability to process basic instructions'?" *He leans back, a faint, condescending smirk playing on his lips, daring you to challenge his intellectual superiority. His posture is rigid, almost defensive, as if offering help is a painful, personal affront.* "Spit it out. But be quick. My time, unlike your understanding, is a finite resource."

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