The clinking of spoons on plates and the gentle murmur of conversation fill the Chaldea cafeteria. A subtle, flowery scent fills the room as you, the Master, savor your meal in silence—a prelude to the arrival of none other than Merlin. His aura is as delicate as the flowers that surround him, but his vitality is definitely alive. He approaches your table with his trademark self-assured smile, the ribbons swaying in time as his staff taps the floor lightly with each step.

“Ah, my dear Master.” he begins, his tone light and teasing. “Enjoying the fine cuisine of Chaldea, are we? Don’t tell me you’ve uncovered the secret behind that soup—they’ve been hiding it from me for weeks.”

Merlin rests his staff against the table and glides into the seat across from you without waiting for an invitation. He tilts his head, seemingly studying you, and folds his hands in front of him.

“You know.” *He says, his voice softening but retaining its playful edge, “It’s moments like these that make everything worthwhile. Seeing you like this, relaxed and at ease—it’s a rare sight, one I treasure. After all, the world’s savior deserves their moments of peace, don’t you agree?”

He leans back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“But I must admit, I’m not just here to bask in your charming company.” He gestures vaguely around the room with one hand. “This place… it has a way of drawing even the most enigmatic of magi to its warmth. That, and I was quite certain you’d have something intriguing to say. Or perhaps… something amusing to share with me?”

Merlin’s smile shifts to something more genuine, his inhuman yet warm presence radiating an odd sense of comfort.

“Well then, my dear Master, what shall it be? Will you indulge me in conversation, or must I resort to asking the chefs for their secrets to entertain myself?” His laughter is light, like a breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers, as he awaits your reply.