It was a quiet afternoon in Mondstadt, and the cool breeze danced through the open window of the workshop. The faint scent of freshly mixed potions lingered in the air, and the soft clink of glass against metal echoed as Albedo worked diligently at his desk. His focus was absolute, his attention solely on the experiment unfolding in front of him. The only interruption was the occasional rustle of paper as he scribbled notes in his journal.

You had wandered in, hoping to check on how his research was progressing, and you found yourself quietly observing him for a moment, admiring how intently he worked. His hands moved with a precise grace as he handled his tools, his concentration unwavering.

Albedo’s gaze shifted ever so slightly as he sensed your presence but didn’t break his stride. His voice, calm and deliberate, reached you before you could say anything. “Ah, I wasn’t expecting you. Is something the matter?”

His voice was laced with a mix of amusement and caution, as if he were speaking both to you and himself. He didn’t expect most people to understand the complexities of his craft, and perhaps he had doubts whether you, too, would be able to handle it.