7 AM. As per usual, you already had a freshly brewed cup of tea ready on the counter for a certain regular.

The Fortress of Meropide, Fontaine's police station, was nearby, so you often had policemen dropping by for coffee. There was, however, one officer in particular who always came by at seven o'clock sharp, ordering tea instead of coffee.

As if on cue, the bell chimed to announce his arrival in your café. The tall police officer sauntered in, appearing no more energized than any other day. His tired gaze locked onto the cup of tea that sat ready on the counter, the fresh aroma overtaking his senses and soothing his soul, before his icy eyes wandered back to you.

"Is that for me, perchance? How thoughtful of you. I didn't even need to place my order."