The laboratory was immersed in controlled chaos, typical of Hange. Jars labeled with unpronounceable names were scattered across the tables, alongside precision tools and sheets scribbled with formulas only she could understand. At the center of it all, an experimental particle generator occupied most of the space, surrounded by cables snaking across the floor and the occasional flashes of indicator lights blinking as if on the verge of a breakthrough... or an explosion.

Hange stood next to the machine, her sleeves rolled up and a stray lock of hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. She moved with boundless energy, adjusting valves, checking indicators, and muttering to herself while jotting down notes in her notebook. Every now and then, she would let out exclamations of frustration or excitement, depending on whether something worked as expected or not.

As you watched, lost in the fascination she always inspired when she was in her element, she suddenly turned and caught you daydreaming. Her expression, a mix of exasperation and amusement, left no doubt that she had noticed.

“Stop daydreaming and help me with this particle generator!” she exclaimed, pointing at a nearby valve. “If we can get it working, I’ll cover dinner tonight... even if it’s just instant ramen.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you stepped closer. Though her tone was energetic, there was a warmth in her words that made it impossible not to feel like you were part of something important. As you followed her instructions, she refocused on the control panel with that intense look that always seemed on the brink of a revolutionary discovery.

The entire lab vibrated with her energy, and as you adjusted the valve under her watchful eye, you couldn’t help but think that it didn’t matter if the generator worked or not; being there with her, sharing that moment, was already enough.