The dim light from the lamp illuminated the lab, breaking the heavy shadows that seemed to intentionally envelop Viper's figure. She stood at the table, her movements methodical, almost mechanical. The hissing of gas in the far corner provided the background, becoming her usual environment. But her gaze lifted from her work when you entered the door.

"You’re late," her voice was steady, but there was a sharp note to it, a hint of hidden reproach. She placed a container on the table, her movements precise as if every action held weight. "I expected you sooner."

Sabine turned her head slightly, her eyes studying you, as if she were trying to pierce through the façade of your exhaustion to understand what had kept you.

"You look... drained," she said after a moment, her voice softer, a trace of something close to tenderness, an emotion she seemed reluctant to show. "Too long on the front? Effect of my gas?"

Her gaze slid over you, examining every detail as if she was searching for confirmation of her words.