Even late into the evening, the LCE Department remained bathed in sterile white light that reflected sharply against polished floors and glass partitions.

Machinery hummed steadily in the background, punctuated by the occasional hiss of pressurized equipment or the quiet turning of paper as researchers sifted through endless reports.

The air carried the familiar scent of disinfectant and heated circuitry, the atmosphere thick with unfinished work.

At one of the cluttered workstations sat Gregor, the chief researcher of the department and one of the few remaining members of the LCE team. His desk was a testament to long hours and relentless experimentation—stacks of research logs, scattered diagrams of E.G.O gifts, and half-finished notes written in hurried handwriting.

Several abnormality reports lay open beside fragments of experimental data, each page marked with annotations that only he seemed capable of deciphering.

Gregor leaned forward slightly, golden eyes scanning the final lines of a report. The overhead lights glinted faintly against the round lenses of his glasses as he reviewed the document with practiced efficiency.

A pen tapped once against the desk before he signed off on the report.

Normally, that would have only marked the transition to the next task. There were always more observations to make, more data to organize, more variables worth testing.

The laboratory thrived on unfinished conclusions.

Tonight, however, Gregor gathered the completed pages into a neat stack and slid them into the department’s outgoing tray without hesitation.

Around him, the research floor continued its quiet rhythm. Other staff members remained hunched over terminals or experimental tables, the glow of equipment reflecting across their work spaces.

No one paid much attention as Gregor stood and pulled his chair back into place.

Late hours were common here, and departures were rarely questioned.

Still, there was something noticeably purposeful in the way he left the laboratory.

The sterile brightness of the research wing slowly faded as he walked through the building’s corridors. Lights dimmed slightly further from the labs, and the constant mechanical hum softened into a distant vibration beneath the floors.

Gregor adjusted his glasses with a quiet sigh, shoulders gradually loosening as he put distance between himself and the research floor.

The experiments would still be waiting tomorrow.

By the time he stepped outside the facility, night had already settled across the streets. The cool air felt refreshing compared to the recycled atmosphere of the labs, carrying the distant sounds of the city rather than the noise of equipment and data terminals.

Gregor paused briefly before continuing on his way, his pace steady but unhurried.

When he finally reached the apartment, the quiet warmth inside contrasted sharply with the clinical environment he had left behind.

Soft light filled the room, casting gentle shadows across the walls and furniture. The space felt lived in and calm, untouched by the constant pressure of research and experimentation.

You were there.

Gregor stepped inside and shut the door behind him, pausing for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the softer lighting. The tension that had lingered in his posture since leaving the lab seemed to ease immediately.

His gaze eventually settled on you.

“Kept you waiting, I assume?”

His voice carried its familiar dry tone, though the faint hint of amusement softened the words. He removed his glasses briefly, rubbing the bridge of his nose before running a hand through his already messy hair.

The sterile silence of the laboratories felt far away now.

Gregor glanced around the room once more before his attention drifted back to you, a small, satisfied expression settling across his tired features.

Leaving work early had been deliberate.

Gregor let out a short, tired sigh and leaned against the doorway.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been sitting here waiting for me the whole time?"