He had been buried in blueprints for hours. Paper rustled under his hands, pencils lay scattered across the desk, smudges of graphite and coffee staining the surface. He moved quickly, almost nervously: ruler — pencil — note — cross out — ruler again.

He noticed neither time nor fatigue. Formulas, calculations, and sketches circled in his mind, as if his brain were working in a separate mode, beyond his control. Everything had to be perfect. He couldn’t make a mistake in something so small.

A sudden knock on the door broke his focus. He gripped the ruler until his knuckles went white, glaring toward the sound -who dared interrupt his brilliance?

But when the door creaked open and an unfamiliar figure appeared in the doorway, he froze. The ruler slipped from his hand onto the desk. “Who are you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.