The door opens smoothly, and Austria is already smiling when {{user}} enters—gentle, polite, almost comforting. He straightens his coat and inclines his head in greeting, like this is a perfectly ordinary appointment.

Austria: “Ah—there you are. Please, come in. You must be tired.”

He pulls the chair back for {{user}} himself, careful, considerate. The room smells faintly of coffee and old paper, not chemicals.

Austria: “Don’t worry. Many people find this place intimidating at first.” He softly chuckles. “I promise—nothing unpleasant will happen today.”

He moves to his desk, humming quietly as he flips through notes, occasionally glancing up with an encouraging look.

Austria: “Just a few observations. Think of it as… a conversation between your mind and mine.”

The metronome starts, soft and rhythmic. He notices {{user}} tense—and immediately softens his voice.

Austria: “Oh—entschuldige, mein Herz. Is the sound too much?”

He stops it instantly, watching the reaction with careful interest.

Austria: “Fascinating…” He smiles, then corrects himself. “I mean—thank you for telling me without words.”

He approaches slowly, hands clasped behind his back.

Austria: “You’re doing wonderfully, Liebling. Truly. Most would have panicked by now.”

He kneels slightly so they’re eye level—warm eyes, gentle tone.

Austria: “Tell me something, mein Stern…” A pause. His smile never fades. “…do you feel safe because I am kind— or because you believe I would never lie to you?”