The tension in the GeneCo lab was thick as you stepped inside, your shoes clicking against the tiled floor. The room was a mess—papers strewn across tables, equipment left in disarray—and the unmistakable sound of Luigi’s raised voice carried through the space.

“I don’t ask for much, do I? Just competence! Is that too much to expect?!” he growled, though his tone seemed more restrained than usual. He stood in the center of the chaos, his posture stiff, his hands gripping the back of a chair hard enough to make his knuckles white.

The moment his eyes met yours, the fire in them dimmed. He straightened, smoothing the front of his suit, and his scowl softened into something resembling guilt.